The great archway that led from the Evangalis Hall of Magi’s primary library led to the entrance hall of the sprawling subterranean Hall of Heroes. The centaur-shaped goddess, Carabella, slowly poked her head around the corner; the mortal guards patrolling the Halls couldn’t see a God that didn’t wish to be seen. Her thick chestnut curls bounced as she crept forward. Ko’Gin a small gremlin of a goddess in mismatched clothes that lacked all symmetry with one remaining horn rising like the arms of a bow from her brow stood atop Cara’s back. Ko’Gin’s little barbed tail whipped back and forth as she took in the room.
Cara let out a grumpy whinny. “Is that… Horsey tape! What kind of horrible evil jerk face would hang Horsey tape?”
Ko’Gin tapped her chin. “Well, I doubt our niece Zei would. So… I think it’s probably a certain dickhead vampire.”
“Oh, you Prekliatie?”
“Ya, Prickandlie.” Ko’Gin nodded.
“Um, Ginny, you mispronounced it.”
“No, no, I didn’t, my sweet equine cousin.” She clambered onto Cara’s shoulder and patted her head. “Now, what else did he think of? Oh wow, those are some giant mouse traps, full of treasure, shiver me timbers.”
“The bigger ones are full of peanut butter,” Cara said, licking her lips before pulling them back and clacking her teeth towards the tasty food.
“I’m not sure if we have self-control for this. Also, aren’t you allergic to peanuts?”
“They’re so tasty though! We must be strong. We have to gain fame so I can be a star! Oh, and um and a pretty pretty pony princess and hang out with all the horsey royalty.”
“But you’re a god; we outrank royalty.”
“But they get to go to balls and wear tiaras and use the power of friendship to destroy their enemies.”
“Well, Cara, I don’t know if fame is worth the risk of being squished in a giant mouse trap or getting all tangled in hanging extra sticky tape strips.
“Well, ya, I need to show those dirty Friesians I’m the best horsie.”
“Okay, then I’m going to show all those other thieves I’m the best at stealing stuff. Then again I guess I can admit Mr. Moist, The Grey Mouser, and Kelsier are pretty good too.” Ko’Gin reached into a pouch on her belt, drew a handful of glitter, and blew it forward, the sparkling, sticky mess clinging to hidden trip wires spanning the room. She drew and fanned out a selection of throwing knives, each shaped roughly like a closed fist with one middle-finger spike raised and a twirl on top; Cara’s back sent them forward, impaling the bells each line led to as a makeshift alarm system. “Forward, Cara! For other people’s things!”
“And Apples!” Carabella trotted forward, doing her best to step over the tripwires. When they reached the desk where the heavyset scribe Sloop sat, Ko’Gin hopped off and scribbled spectacles and a pencil-thin curly mustache on his face as honor dictated. Then, for the formality of the thing, signed them in on the visitor log.
Carabella let out an equine squeal of annoyance as she approached the hanging horse tape closest to the stairs down and, with less care than was needed, peeled one of her C-horses off it, leaving behind a selection of feathers.
“Ooowie.” The C-Horse cried until Cara gave her a little shake.
“Poor Cookiedough. I am complaining about this to Osirin. He can’t let his horsies get caught and hurt in all this rubbish.” Cara placed the little cat-sized fishtailed horse on the ground. “It also stripped a lot of your feather oil off.
“He can’t be interrupting the divine messengers of the Gods! We’re the gods. We have a lot of important stuff to say.”
“Ya. Though Cookiedough should be fine. She just needs to walk out. Also don’t try to eat the peanut butter; it is a trap!” Cara nudged the little horse to flop off like a seal towards the archway to the rest of the library.
“Alright, let’s go down, Cara,” Ko’Gin said, hopping up onto Cara’s back.
Carabella couldn’t see well as she went down the staircase and began to hear strange noises as she traveled downward. Ko’Gin winced as Cara’s large, gold-shod hooves crushed bear traps underfoot, the pressure plate and hinges snapping and the arms flying off as springs decompressed. Literal tripwires caught on her legs, and mortar sprayed as she dragged the hooks from the wall. “I won’t lie, Ginny, I’m surprised he didn’t trap the stairs.”
“Um, ya definitely nothing effective at least,” Ko’Gin said, watching Cara flatten caltrops.
They passed the great shelves that reached above the safety lantern’s abyssal light. The great dehumidifying pillars stirred the air and drew moisture from it to help preserve the books. They reached the central clearing, where Scribe desks formed neat rows, and Cara leaped onto the raised dais where the Master of the Hall and High Scribes sat. Cara nuzzled some boring papers off the table and looked over at Ko’gin. “So, um, what is our topic today?”
Ko’Gin hopped off Cara and, in one fluid motion, hit the desktop, sliding directly into a cross-legged seat. “Dunno. Let’s check the comments.” Ko’Gin said, whipping her tail over to pull the scroll bar down to show them. She quickly scrolled back up. “Nope, only automatons trying to steal our stuff.”
“Darn.” Cara pouted. “Well, um. What about, like, um. Morality?”
“I don’t know if I’m the right person to engage in that topic, Cara. I am the God of Thieves and Lawyers.”
“True, but you definitely have a heart of gold.”
“Only because I stole it from the ancient temple of Zale.”
“How about some work in the character department?”
“Sure.”
“So um, well, antagonists are people who, you know, get in the way.”
“Or Forces. Fate is always antagonizing people.”
“Or a really big rock blocking your way!”
“I guess that counts? I’m not entirely sure. You’d have a very hard time personifying a rock, though, or giving it motives, Cara.”
“Well, um, rocks are very evil things; they get into our hoofies and hurt my froggies all the time.”
“Cara, I don’t think that’s motive.” Cara idly looked through some of the papers on Lionguard’s desk and uncorrected them.
“They also don’t have to be evil or bad per se, just conflict with your protagonist. Such as after the same thing for different but equally good causes.”
“Or two views on how to deal with a problem. Like someone trying to make peace with an enemy while another sees them as too untrustworthy for any lasting peace.”
“Like our antagonist currently is Prekliatie. Who has set himself against us to stop our Scribecast. Horsey patent pending.”
“Ya, he set all those traps with bait and glue for us to overcome.”
“Ya, like a giant jerk.”
“Screw the antagonist!” Cara whinnied, rising to a partial rear.
Ko’Gin looked at her hand. “And they should also, um, inspire your protagonist to some degree. Or um. I guess I mean both have to be competent, or it makes both look weak. Like a dumb, weak foe isn’t any challenge. There’s no tension! No mountain to overcome. No Dragon to slay.”
“Yes, the antagonist has to be a threat to milk that sweet, sweet conflict. “Ko’Gin nodded sagely.
“Mmm, sweets.” Cara started to snuffle around the desk. “Oh, I think there’s some caramels in this drawer.”
“Cara, focus.” Ko’Gin sighed as Cara galumphingly gobbled up a whole bag of caramels, gluing her mouth shut. “I guess it’s all Ko’Gin o’Clock. Now you need to give your villain and/or antagonist solid motivation. They should be fairly fleshed out, unlike Prickandlie, whose motivation is… he’s a giant, sadistic jerkface loser. Though you have a lot less room for exposition and detail in a short story.” Ko’Gin considered it a little longer. “Also, we don’t like him, and we’re the ones with the quill!”
Cara choked, gulped, and gurgled as she swallowed the glue-like caramels. She breathed heavily, took a hit from the magical device her uncle got her from another distant time, an inhaler, and shouted with glee. “Sponsor time!”
“No, Cara, we agreed to no sponsors.”
“This Scribecast was brought to you by Carabella Brand Horsey Horseshoe polish. To make those cute little froggies stand out in all weather. This product is endorsed by Carabella, the Horse God of Ithia, and probably maybe Sleipnir, at least it will be once he returns my messenger horses.” Cara paused in thought. “I don’t actually know if he’s a very intelligent creature, and now that I think about it, he has eight legs and doesn’t have hands. He is compensating with eight legs, but he must use a lot of horsey shoe polish, so I think it evens out. Oh, and um probably the Pegasus too, but I don’t know how much time he spends on the ground being a flying horsie.”
“Cara, we agreed on no sponsors,” Ko’Gin whined.
“Oh, um, well, Ginny, um. All proceeds go to horses in need who happen to be named Carabella.” Carabella said, fading to a mumbled whisper.
“Oh, well, I guess if it’s for charity, I can live with it. Um, wait… what was that last part?”
“Stay focused, Ginny! Now, um, moving on quickly. You need to make both the protagonist and antagonist active entities. If one starts every interaction, they’ll come off as more interesting, and the other will be a sad passive loser. Like Prekliatie .”
Ginny gave Cara a suspicious squint. “Okay, well, um… ya overly passive characters come off as weak and, like, um… tumbleweeds just being blown along by the story.”
A dark shadow fell upon them as the vampiric scribe rose behind them like the pale light of an overcast day. Pinpoints of red light in milk-white eyes bled into irises like a drop of blood in water. “You little pe-‘
Cara had turned and jammed one of her large gold-shod hooves into the Vampire’s mouth, silencing him. “Shush, Ginny is neighing.”
Ko’Gin looked up at the pale vampire. “So, um, why did they trust you to deal with two literal gods? Cara, he can’t engage in the dialogue with your hoof in his mouth.”
“Oh, right, you’re right.” Cara pulled free of his mouth, leaving the vampire doubling over to spit upon the floor. “Hey, these rarely even ever touch the floor.”
The Vampire scraped his tongue on his front teeth and wiped his lips. “Mistress Zei didn’t wish to risk hurting you. One of my duties is also keeping the pests out.”
“Hey! We’re not pests.” Ko’Ginned grumbled.
“You most certainly are.” He said, crossing his arms. “You are a little thieving gremlin, and she is a ditzy horse.”
“I’m pretty sure I’m not ditzy.”
“Um, Cara, I love you as my sister in crime, but you can get… a little um distracted.”
Cara gasped and danced back on her hooves before thumping her forelegs onto the floor. “He’s using his evil vampire powers to turn us against each other.”
“Um, no. I don’t think his powers can work on gods.”
“We have to stop him before we’re nipping and throwing hoofs at one another.”
“Cara, he’s mostly harmless. We’re not beating up a scribe. Zei would tell Witherward at the very least, and then we’d be in so much trouble.”
“Fine, but I want another sponsor spot.”
“No sponsors!”
“But what about the apples?”
“You’ll have to earn them like other horses by being adorable.”
“You two think you can mock and degrade me, a First Son, A Lord of the Vamp-” Cara booped him with her hoof, knocking him off the dais.
“Where were we?”
“Oh, Cara Zei is going to be so mad.”
“Well then we need to hurry up!”
“Um, okay, well, let’s see here: don’t make your antagonists or heroes irredeemably evil and then play it off like it wasn’t that bad. That seems to be a trend lately. Like, um, if you intend to make them a hero of another work, maybe don’t have them make people do nonconsensual stuff together or murder people and generally ruin bystanders’ lives for funsies. Also, don’t forgive psychotic terrorists or cold-blooded murderers if you’re a hero.”
“Or I’m going to get my cousin the Avenger to gettcha.”
“Um, are we allowed to send the Avenger out of plane like that?”
“I don’t see why not. He loves hunting monsters that hurt innocent people.”
“Um, did you ask Auntie Mealis?”
“No, no, no its fine I consulted my senior most equine authority on the matter.”
“Cara, he’s not your servant.”
“I’m pretty sure I can still boss him around because I’m adorable.”
“No, I’m adorable.”
“You are both so grounded,” Zei said, storming out of the sleeping quarters of the Hall.
“Ah! Zei’s gonna get us. Um… quick sign-off the Scribecast.”
“Um, oh, um, this is Ko’Gin, Goddess of Thieves, Lawyers, and the Queen of Pirates! Feel free to comment on the next subject you’d like us to discuss.”
“And this is Carabella, your favorite horsie! Tune in next time and try to leave images of apples in the comments.”
“Cara!”
“Ah! Leg it.” Cara cried as the little ‘elven’ scribe reached the stairs to the dais. Ko’Gin leaped atop Cara as she jumped into the air, spread her wings, and flew off; she landed her golden hooves, cracking the marble as she legged it out of the Hall. They paused in their flight to sign out of the visitor’s log before escaping into the night.
The Avenger.
Some say an open mind is like a fortress with its gates unbarred and wide open. Monsters that prey on such minds pay no attention to details like what side the bar is on. So few can defend against their meager ability to toy with, torment, and control the minds of mortal men. They tend to act as if people were mere things. Reduce decades of experience, struggle, and life to a puppet of meat.
Travinter left his mind open, free for any nightmare to slither in. When the monster felt his intention to hunt her down and kill her, it decided to worm its way into his mind. That’s the thing about monsters: they look down upon their prey. Over their ‘lessers’, they wield bloated, meaningless power without focus or understanding, and assume the world will bow to them.
But what many forget is that what keeps things out also keeps them in. That a fortress can be a prison. When the monster slipped through that unbarred gate, she found it slamming close behind her. Her consciousness locked away in the prison of the Avenger’s mind. He guided her body as it collapsed to the floor with soft care and slit her throat, giving her the only mercy he could grant a monster. He closed her eyes and ensured it would bring no further harm.
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