The December Snow

It was a cold December morning, and a light snow had covered the ground of the Melons’ camp. It had been six months since Mullen McDermott had led a motley band of young people out into the wilderness south of Steepleton in the nation of Ghantra. Their minds had been enlightened by his idealistic brand of teachings, which were based loosely on worship of Elamonel (1) . The summer months had been kind to the Melons, a derogatory name given to the group as an intentional mispronunciation of their leader’s name. The forty-three young men and women that formed the settlement abandoned their worldly possessions to commune with nature. They practiced three tenets in this commune: peace, love, and dope, lots of dope. They slept out under the stars, wore very little to no clothing, and ate whatever berries and vegetables the land provided for them.

However, as the weather turned colder and the plants died off as is usually the case, the harmonious Melon camp soon turned rather bitter, and dissenters arose, causing the camp to dwindle to half its original size.

"Mullen," the long black-haired man said to the leader that December morning when there once again was no breakfast, "I think it’s time we cut our losses, and go home."

"Bonoman," Mullen said as he smoked his oddly-shaped pipe, "your bad vibes are spoiling the serenity of this peaceful morning. Take a look out into the field," Mullen said, gesturing with his hand, "and tell me what you see."

Bono Fosbury looked out into the field and said, "I see about twenty half-frozen people, starving to death because we’ve got no food, no warm clothes, and no shelter. That’s what I see."

"You’re so totally wrong, man," Mullen said calmly. "I see the majesty of nature. The beauty of it. Food? There is nothing here that Elamonel does not provide for us, Bono. Clothing and shelter? We have each others’ love to keep us warm."

"That’s a bunch of horse shit, Mullen," Bono said, getting up to his feet.

"Dude, where are you going?" Mullen asked as Bono started to walk away.

"I’m going back to Steepleton. To sleep in my own bed if my parents will have me back," Bono answered. "The rest of you would be smart to come with me," he said loudly as he walked past them.

"Don’t listen to him, my brothers and sisters," Mullen said calmly. "Brother Bono has lost his way. He’s been tempted by ‘The Man’ and his heart wasn’t strong enough to resist temptation. Now come my brothers and sisters, and let us all smoke our pipes and I will tell you about the goodness of Elamonel."

---

Bono stomped through the snow away from the Melon camp, muttering to himself. "Why the hell did I come out here in the first place? What the hell was I thinking? Getting back to nature… what a crock."

He headed north, through the bare trees of the forest, shivering, until he heard the sound of something approaching him. He stopped in his tracks and he heard whatever it was still approaching. Panicked, he grabbed a nice-sized branch and was prepared to use it as a weapon, squatting down behind some briar bushes.

It was definitely a humanoid, as it was humming to itself as it stomped along through the snow. Upon closer inspection, the man, wearing a heavy winter coat and carrying a backpack with a shield strapped to it, was about twenty yards away. Bono was protected from his sight, behind the bushes, when he had a thought. "I am cold as hell. That guy doesn’t need that coat. I bet I could take him by surprise and steal it from him."

Bono crept as quietly as he could, getting closer to the man before he finally lunged out from behind the bushes and tackled the man to the ground. The two wrestled in the snow, as the surprised traveler screamed "Get off me!"

The traveler, serious about his statement, kneed Bono in the groin and then got to his feet and began chanting something. "Oh shit," Bono thought to himself as he himself got back to his feet and started running away. But as he ran away he was nailed in the back by a magic missile 2 that sent him hurtling face-first into the snowy ground.

The traveler ran up behind him as Bono attempted to get to his feet. But before he could do so, the mage nailed him with the shield square on the back of the head and Bono was out cold.

---

Bono awoke some time later, groggy and unaware of his surroundings. He was no longer outside, and his feet felt warm for the first time in a long time. He heard the crackling of a fire, and saw that he was inside a cave, but not an ordinary cave. There were some modest furnishings there, and even some crude paintings. Bono attempted to move, but he realized he could not; his feet and hands were bound by rope.

"Hello?!" Bono asked, worriedly.

"Well, well, well." The mage walked over towards Bono, entering from another portion of the cave. He was a little over six feet tall, rather stocky, with blue eyes and red hair, and about the same age as Bono.

"Who are you?" Bono asked the mage, "and why am I tied up in here?"

"That’s pretty funny," the mage said, taking a teakettle off of the fire and pouring a cup of tea. "I was about to ask who you were. And since this is my home, and you attacked me, I think I get to ask first." The mage poured another cup and stood in front of Bono. "Tea?"

"Thank you," Bono said as the mage held the cup up to Bono’s lips and he took a sip. "Ow! I burned my tongue."

The mage laughed and sat down on a chair facing Bono. "So you never answered my question. What’s your name, and why did you attack me back there?"

"The name is Bono, and I attacked you because I wanted your coat. I was freezing. I guess I kinda lost it back there, and I’m sorry. Could you just let me go, and we forget about this whole thing?"

The mage smiled. "I don’t think that’s possible, Bono," he answered. "You see, you’ve seen me now. And you’ve been to my lair. If I let you go, you’ll tell people about me, and then they’ll come looking for me. The last thing I need is for that to happen."

"Well who are you?" Bono asked. "Why would anyone come looking for you? Are you a necromancer or something?"

"Bingo," the mage said, and Bono shuddered. "Or at least that’s what people say. And a murderer, a thief… they want to kill me, Bono. I’ve already escaped the noose once, and ever since then I’ve been evading the law. This last year or so I’ve been quite content to live here, quietly and undisturbed, so you’ll understand if I have to kill you."

"Kill me?!" Bono protested. "You don’t have to do that! Listen, whatever your name is, don’t become a murderer if you’re not one already. Then everything they said about you would be true!"

The red-haired mage thought for a moment. "Beranek," he said.

"Come again?" Bono asked, puzzled.

"My name. Beranek Naslund 3 , mage extraordinaire."

"Oh," Bono said. "So does that mean you’ve changed your mind and you’re not going to kill me?"

"We’ll see in the morning," Beranek said cryptically as he walked to the door of the room. "Goodnight."

Beranek blew out the candles in the room, and exited, closing the door behind him. The fire was still crackling though, and Bono gazed into the flames before he finally drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

---

Bono awoke the next morning, and felt the ropes on his hands coming off.

"You had better be good," Beranek said as he moved onto Bono’s feet and cut the ropes off with a dagger. "Remember that magic missile I shot you with yesterday?"

Bono nodded.

"I have plenty more where that came from," Beranek added, trying to be threatening.

Bono got to his feet, and he followed Beranek out of the room he had been held in and to a room down the hall with a wooden table. On the table were two pewter plates, and more importantly to Bono than plates, food!

"Breakfast is served," Beranek said smiling as the two men sat down to their warm meals.

Bono picked up his fork and was about to plow into the sausages and pancakes when he suddenly stopped short. "Wait a minute," he said. "How do I know this food isn’t poisoned? After all, you said that ‘we’d see in the morning’ if you were going to kill me."

Beranek picked up his fork and stabbed a pancake and sausage from Bono’s plate and then ate them. "Satisfied?"

Bono smiled and dug into his breakfast like a ravenous animal. He hadn’t eaten real food in so long that he couldn’t believe how good it tasted.

"You know if I was going to kill you," Beranek said, "I would have done it yesterday when I gave you that tea, and then you would have died in your sleep and not even known it."

"That’s true," Bono said, "But if you really are a necromancer, you might get more enjoyment out of watching me die right in front of your own eyes."

"A valid point," the mage said before he sipped some tea. "So what brings one of the Melons so far away from the commune?"

"Huh?" Bono said.

"Oh come now," Beranek said. "The long hair, the unshaven face, the inadequate winter clothing, the signs of starvation… I think I can spot a Melon when I see one."

Bono laughed. "Yeah I guess we do kind of stick out, don’t we?"

"Like an orc in church on Sunday," Beranek replied.

"Well," Bono began as he chewed on another fork-full, "I’ve left the camp. I couldn’t take the cold or the starving any more."

"What took you so long?" Beranek asked. "I never understood that crazy cult."

"HEY!" Bono said, defensively. "It’s NOT a cult. It’s more of a philosophy of life. A new way of looking at things."

"Well I suppose Elamonel isn’t Dianaubus 4 ," Beranek stated.

"She most certainly isn’t," Bono said.

"But at the same time," Beranek prodded further, "I think the whole thing was just an excuse for a bunch of young people to go off into the woods, have sex, drink booze, and get high."

"That’s a narrow-minded opinion," Bono fired back. "You’re a young person, yourself. You of all people should understand what we were doing."

"I’m not as young as you think," Beranek said, sipping some tea. "I’ve seen a lot of things in my short life. The world has hardened me. It’s made me stronger, smarter, and more resilient. I am not some idealistic ‘the world is beautiful’ young hippie. I am a realist."

"Realist, pessimist, same difference," Bono quipped. "When was the last time you had any fun, anyway?"

"I have ‘fun.’ I have lots of ‘fun.’ See these books?" Beranek said, pointing to a shelf full of books. "I read."

"Reading?" Bono scoffed. "Reading is for nerds. Nerds and old people."

"On the contrary, Bono," Beranek began, "reading is the great escape. With these books, I can go anywhere. I can visit far away places that most people can only dream about, meet new and interesting people, and I don’t even have to leave my chair to get there."

"I always thought reading was a waste of time, personally," Bono said. "But I guess when you’re out here in the boonies, there’s nothing much else to do though."

"Oh, I don’t know about that," Beranek said, smiling. "Human sacrifice is always a welcome diversion."

"Ha-ha," Bono said, dryly. "Very funny."

"I thought so," said Beranek. He looked down at Bono’s plate as he finished his last pancake. "I suppose I should be letting you leave soon."

"Well, you’re the captor," Bono stated. "You do what you want to do."

"I guess it’s been so long since I’ve had a conversation with anyone," Beranek mused. "It was kind of nice. Human contact, and everything."

"Likewise," Bono added.

"But..." Beranek began.

"Mullen and the rest of them were too stoned half the time to have a decent conversation. Needless to say it got pretty old after awhile," Bono explained.

"I see," Beranek added. There was a long pause that was finally broken by, "Wait here."

Bono waited at the table and Beranek returned carrying some winter clothes, which he tossed to Bono. "I don’t have much, and they probably won’t fit you too well, but at least they’re warmer than what you have."

Bono smiled. "Thanks, Beranek," he said as he was getting to his feet.

"Go get dressed, and I’ll lead you to the road."

---

Six inches more of snow had fallen overnight, and it was still coming down as Beranek and Bono emerged from Beranek’s underground cave dwelling. As the two men trudged through the snow, Bono told Beranek about how he had been kicked out of his house after an argument with his father. Beranek recounted to Bono the unfortunate story of how he had been wrongly accused of murdering his own mentor, and the subsequent events of how he escaped the gallows and became a fugitive.

"After I split up with the cleric and the sword-swallower, I headed south and found the old cave. As you could see, I’ve made it quite homey," Beranek concluded 5 .

The two men stopped as they reached the road, which was covered by snow. "Just head up north on this road, and you’ll get to Steepleton in about an hour or so," Beranek said, pointing up the road.

"I really appreciate this, Beranek," Bono said. "I’m sorry about the way we met, but it was really great to meet you and talk with you. I hope that one day you can get your name cleared and see your family again."

"Thanks, Bono," Beranek said, smiling. "It was nice to have someone to talk to, even if that someone initially tried to rob me and steal my coat."

The two men laughed and shook hands. Bono turned to leave, but Beranek spoke. "Wait," he said.

Bono turned to face Beranek, and Beranek removed a book from the inside of his coat and held it out for Bono. Emblazoned on the cover was the mobius symbol.

"Elamonel?" Bono asked.

"Yeah," Beranek affirmed, "I figured since you’ve heard the bastardized version from Mullen you should at least read the real thing and see what he was talking about."

Bono smiled. "Thanks, Beranek." He put the holy book inside his coat.

"Besides," Beranek began and then added cryptically, "Something tells me you might need it."

"Okay," Bono said, puzzled, "Well I guess I better get going."

"Yeah, the snow is falling pretty good now. Plus you’ve got a long road ahead of you."

"Goodbye, Beranek."

"Goodbye, Bono."

Both men turned away, and Bono set his mind on the journey in front of him. In a way he was both excited and nervous. Excited to be going home and nervous because of the way he left. He hoped that his parents would forgive him.

As the snow continued to fall, the only sounds Bono could hear as he pushed his way through the snow were his own movements and his breathing. The rest was silence. He could not have been more than ten minutes up the road when he heard a distant sound amongst the vast silence. He stopped in his tracks, and a few moments later he heard it again. A human scream. Off in the distance, behind him.

"Beranek," he thought to himself in horror.

Bono turned and started to run as fast as he could, over the tracks that he had made, almost falling over and into the snow as he waded through it. As he got closer to where he left Beranek, Bono heard the scream once again, much louder and clearer.

Bono spotted Beranek’s tracks quickly and followed them, his heart racing and nearly beating out of his chest. Soon he came upon a clearing, and as he got closer he could see Beranek on the ground, trying to get to his feet. Blood, presumably Beranek’s blood, had stained the snow around him a crimson red.

Surrounding Beranek were four orcs. One was armed with a longsword, one with a shortsword, and two with warhammers. The orc with the shortsword, his back to Bono, prepared to deliver the deciding blow to Beranek.

"NOOOOO!" Bono rushed into the clearing, screaming, and swinging a log at the orc, sending the orc to the ground and his sword flying out of his hand. The other three orcs, surprised, rushed in towards Bono as he got back to his feet. Bono quickly exchanged the log for the shortsword and stood, shielding Beranek as the three orcs circled around them like sharks hungry for the kill. The fourth orc got back to his feet and pulled out a dagger.

"You came back for me," Beranek said, barely getting the words out of his mouth.

Bono nodded. "Any ideas on how to get out of this?"

"Already working on it," as Beranek suddenly began to chant.

"I hope you make it a good one, because here they come!" Bono shouted as the four orcs came charging in on him. Bono raised the sword and was prepared to fight off as many blows as he could, but suddenly a wind began to rise up and the snow began to swirl around like a miniature funnel cloud.

"Close your eyes!" Beranek shouted.

Bono did as he was told and soon the wind became so intense that the two men and all four orcs got picked up off their feet and swept up into it. Their bodies were hurtled around in a seemingly never-ending circle and Bono began to feel sick. He was lost in the white swirl, and almost forgot where he was until he finally came crashing to the ground with a tremendous bone-jarring thud 6 .

Disoriented, he suddenly remembered where he was and tried to get to his feet. His head still was spinning, and he vomited on the ground. He staggered dizzily over to Beranek and helped him to his feet.

"We’ve got to get out of here," Bono said hurriedly.

Beranek nodded. Bono attempted to provide support for Beranek as they moved as fast as they could away from the orcs. Soon, though, they could hear the orcs coming behind them, gaining on them.

"Bono, you’ve got to leave me behind," Beranek said.

"No way," Bono said, determined. "Not a chance."

"Don’t be foolish. I am slowing you down. My wounds are bad, I’m losing a lot of blood. We are an hour away from civilization where they could treat me. I’ll be dead before then anyway. If you take off running and I distract them, you can escape. It’s better for one of us to die instead of both of us," Beranek pleaded.

"We’ll find a way," Bono tried to reassure him, and also himself. He knew the mage was right, the trail of blood Beranek was leaving behind for the orcs to follow was not aiding their cause either. But he could not leave Beranek there to die, despite his own instincts for self-preservation.

"We can’t run anymore," Beranek said, gasping. He stopped with the sounds of the orcs’ approach growing ever louder. "If you won’t leave me, there’s no way we can out-run them. That means, then, we’ve got to stay and try to fight them. We’re ahead of them so we have an advantage. We can stake out positions and ambush them."

"What do you want me to do?" Bono asked eagerly.

"Climb that tree over there," Beranek ordered, pointing to a large oak. "I’ll go over and hide behind a tree on the other side of this path. When they come through, they’ll notice the tracks have stopped, but I will come out and cast a spell on them. You’ll jump down on them from the tree and knock them down, and by that time I’ll have something else for them."

"Sounds good," Bono said, encouraged.

"Good," Beranek said, wincing, and then managing a smile. "Let’s do it."

Bono did as he was told, climbing the oak tree. Beranek disappeared behind another tree on the other side of the path. A sickening feeling in Bono’s gut began to arise when he heard the orcs coming through. Just like Beranek said, when they saw the footprints stop they stopped too and began to look around. Bono hoped they would not look up and see him in the tree.

After a few moments, Bono began to grow worried and he wondered what Beranek was up to. "If he doesn’t make his move now, this plan is never gonna work," Bono thought to himself.

Suddenly he heard Beranek’s voice. "Hey you guys!" he yelled standing a hundred yards back in the direction where the orcs had come from.

"What the HELL is he doing?" Bono wondered.

The orcs, upon seeing their target, started running in Beranek’s direction, and Beranek disappeared from sight. Bono, confused that the plan had been changed, jumped down from the tree a short time later and chased after the orcs at a safe distance. He heard a loud cry and then metal against flesh repeatedly. A loud war cheer rose up in four orcish voices.

Bono’s heart sank as he saw Beranek’s lifeless and maimed body lying in the snow, blood everywhere. One of the orcs held up his heart and thrust the hand that held it skyward, eliciting another cheer.

"He never meant to go through with the plan at all," Bono thought to himself, confused and saddened.

Bono had little time to mourn his fallen friend as an orc spotted him watching and pointed him out. Bono once again took off running, and the orcs in pursuit. Bono, in tears, ran as fast as his tired legs could carry him through the heavy snow, which seemed to be falling harder now than ever.

The snowfall made it difficult for Bono to see, and the increased wind decreased his ability to hear the oncoming orcs. Even still he pushed forward. He did not know where he was going, and feared he may have gotten turned around in the whiteout. He heard voices in front of him; he was being approached.

He saw silhouettes of four figures coming towards him. He tried to run, but fell to the ground from exhaustion. The figures approached him and one reached out for him, and he tried to back away.

A bearded face asked him, "Where are they? Where are the orcs?"

Bono could only muster enough energy to point behind him. The bearded face nodded and then Bono passed out.

---

Bono stood over the freshly dug grave and read a prayer out of the Holy Book of Elamonel for Beranek. After a few moments of silence, he turned and faced the four dwarfs. "Thank you again for your help," Bono said to them. "You all saved my life."

"I’m just glad we found you when we did," the lead dwarf said. "We’d been tracking those bastard orcs for months, and then that snow squall whipped up out of nowhere. If we’d have been a minute or two later, you’d have been buried in the snow and we would have never found you."

Another dwarf stepped forward, orc ears hanging off his belt. "We’re heading through Steepleton on our way up north. You’re more than welcome to travel with us if you like."

"Thanks," Bono said. "I’ll take you up on that offer."

"You might as well take this," the lead dwarf said, handing Bono the orc’s shortsword that he had taken the day before. "You’ve earned it."

"I don’t even know how to use it," Bono said, embarrassed.

"Then LEARN!" the lead dwarf said, slapping Bono on the back as the others laughed.

Bono nodded, and he and the four dwarfs walked the road back to Steepleton. He thanked the dwarfs once again for their help, and wished them good luck on their return trip home.

Bono walked up to the door of his house, long hair and full beard. Before he could knock, though, the door was suddenly opened. His father stood in front of him in the doorway with a scowl on his face. Bono started to turn and leave, but he was halted when his father said happily, "Come on in, son."

Bono smiled and hugged his father. "I’m sorry, dad."

"Come on in," Mick Fosbury said, slapping his son on the back. "Your mother’s got dinner on the table."

As the December snow began to fall once again, the Fosbury family sat down to the dinner, and all was right with the world.

THE END