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For this piece, I was asked to use the last line of a book I own as the last line of my writing. I will give credit for the last lines at the end. 

K – A King’s Trust

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King Kaden sat on his throne, wondering what the inhabitants of his kingdom thought of him. Was he doing a good job? He had plenty of riches and trusted all of his advisors when it came to running the kingdom. But deep down, he felt a disconnect with the populace. He decided to try to find out firsthand what their thoughts were. 

He changed his appearance as best he could. He would dress as a peasant and wander the kingdom.

For three days running, he announced that he had some important work to do alone and was not to be disturbed. He changed clothes in his chambers and exited the castle through a secret doorway. 

Walking through the streets and alleyways of his kingdom was fascinating. There was so much that he had been unaware of. The places were all run down. He saw little cheer. Some people gave greetings when passing him, and others just ignored him. Periodically, he would stop and make conversation. 

“I am a stranger to this land and am considering moving here. How fares the kingdom?” he would say.

The answers seemed rather consistent.

“Go back where you came from. You’ll find no joy here.”

“There is no communication with the one that rules here and his money-grubbing advisors. All they do is take from us.”

“Look around you; this place is a shadow of what it was and could be. Look at the palace, for that is where the money is spent. There is no thought to spend it on us.”

“We are insignificant; we may look well, but we struggle to survive.”

King Kaden had enough after three days of hearing these descriptions and complaints. 

How could he have let this happen? It was time for things to change. But first, he needed to know why it happened. The king had trusted his advisors. They informed him of what was happening and told him all was well. Yes, they did ask for more money to be taken from the population, but, as it was explained to him, the people could afford it, for this was a rich and prosperous land. 

It was time for another disguise. This one had to be more stealthy, for there would be contact with his advisors this time. He enlisted the aid of his closest friend, Sir Hector. Hector would infiltrate an advisor’s meeting and report back his findings. 

What Hector found out supported the people’s claim. There was much talk during and after the advisors’ meetings about their wealth and how they could dupe the king into getting more for themselves. They even made fun of the King’s naivety and how easy it was to get what they wanted without reproach. 

Of course, if King Kaden called his advisors out, they would deny it. How could he make change happen?

He decided he would again disguise himself and roam among the populace. Maybe something would inspire him. And as it happens, in these kinds of tales, something did happen. 

As the king was walking past a tumbled-down cottage, an old woman stepped out and hailed him. “Stranger,” she called out with a knowing look. “You seem to be troubled. Why don’t you come inside for a bite to eat and some cool water and share what’s on your mind?”

The king looked the woman over, ignored misgivings, and took her up on her offer. He was quite surprised when she presented him with food and drink and said, “So, King Kaden, this is the fourth time I’ve seen you in this village in the last two weeks. What is it that you are so desperate to find?”

“How is it that you know who I am?” he asked.

“I’ve been following you since you were born. As I did your father and his father before,” she replied. 

The king had heard stories of such guardian spirits, but up until now, they were just stories. Without any hesitation, the King unburdened himself to the old woman. 

“The answer is simple, but not without risk.” She said, “You must do what your heart tells you and become the person you were meant to be.”

And so it was. King Kaden removed all of his advisors. He left them with some money and small plots of land, giving them each the choice to leave the kingdom if they desired. With insufficient funds to live in the luxury they were used to, most departed to find places elsewhere to work their lies. Once the truth is out, liars and cheats must pay the consequences. 

King Kaden named Sir Hector his chief advisor, with the instructions that the populace choose his fellow advisors. The one criterion for the position of advisor was honesty and truth. 

It took time for the people of the kingdom to change their opinions. When the king walked amongst them, he was not in disguise. He knew that trust had to be earned.

As King Kaden stood and looked up at the sky that shone over his kingdom, he could have seen the miserable place he had ruled. But the sky was bright, and he somehow felt he was headed in the right direction.*

As for the kingdom’s people, they eventually came to accept and enjoy their fate. They could only say it just “happened to happen” and was not very likely to happen again. **

The last lines are taken from:

* – Stuart Little by E. B. White

** – The 500 Hats of Bartholomew Cubbins by Dr. Seuss

H – Heck in a Handbasket

Wallace and his wife, Eileen, were walking in the park one day. What had started out as a nice sunny day suddenly became cloudy, and it began to sprinkle. 

They had been married for over twenty years, but those years weren’t the happiest in their lives. Wallace and Eileen may have loved each other at one time, but recently, their conversations always ended in arguments. Today was no different. 

“Did you bring the umbrella?” Eileen asked. 

“Why should I have brought an umbrella? It was sunny outside.” was Wallace’s reply. 

Eileen was quick to respond, “I told you it might rain! You never listen to me.”

Wallace replied, “I would listen to you if you had something to say.”

This conversation was getting slightly more animated than usual and went on for a few more minutes when Eileen decided she had enough.

“You can go to HECK!” she screamed at Wallace, which was not exactly the word she was thinking of saying, but considering they were in a public park, she showed some control. 

Wallace was quick with his answer and controlled himself as well: “If anyone in our family is going to HECK, it’s you, not me!”

The rest of the day was a blur to them. They hadn’t noticed a strange-looking old man sitting on a bench near where they were arguing. After overhearing their comments to each other, a playful smile appeared on his face. He got up, walked between them, excusing himself, and uttered a few unintelligible words. 

They paid little attention to the man as he walked past, so they had no inkling of what he had said, not that they would have understood anyway. But, had they paid attention, they might have recognized the word “Heck.”

Ten years passed. Wallace and Eileen continued to live together as their children grew up. Wallace was 78 when he passed away. 

The funeral was short, and the speeches of remembrance from family and friends were also. Wallace was peacefully laid to rest in the family plot. And life went on. 

Eileen lived for another fourteen years. Her funeral was also brief. Friends and family attended, and her children and grandchildren delivered speeches of remembrance. She, too, was peacefully laid to rest in the family plot next to Wallace’s grave. And for the rest of the world, life went on. 

Eileen found herself in a marketplace. She looked around, and all she could see was emptiness, no people. It was like she was part of something, but not sure what it was. Looking out, she could clearly see the marketplace. There were different stalls, each containing some items to sell. Some were fruit stands. Some were gaming stalls. Some stalls had flowers arranged in beautiful bouquets. Some had lots of colored and varied yarn, with beautifully knitted and crocheted apparel samples. There was a gated area with lots of animals and other living creatures.

“It’s about time you got here,” said a familiar voice slightly below her position. 

“Wallace,” she said, “Is that you?”

“Who else would it be,” was his reply. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about you while I was gone. I missed you.”

Considering how tainted her memories were, this was a shocking revelation to Eileen. “Where are we? And how are we here? You died 14 years ago?”

“As did you two days ago,” was his response. “As I understand it, we are exactly where we said we would be.

“What?”

“When you can manage it, try to twist around and look up over this enclosure we’re in,”  said Wallace.

It took a moment for Eileen to realize she did not have human form. She could hear things going on in the marketplace and see everything around her: behind her, in front of her, above and below, inside and outside. Looking opposite the market she noticed that she was in an enclosure made up of woven fiber, possibly of reeds or plant material. She also became aware that she was part of that fiber. Following Wallace’s suggestion, she looked above her at a sign that read. “Heck’s Baskets. They’ll hold all your precious possessions. They last forever.” Eillen was stunned. 

“As I said,” Wallace spoke out a few woven fibers below her, “I’ve had time to think about you and what you meant to me.  This basket is ours. Granted, there are some flaws in its design, but on the whole, it is a strong, well put together, and meant for the two of us.” 

“But why? And how?”

“I believe it had to do with a discussion we were having in a park some twenty-four years ago. All I can say is that I’m glad we used the language we did that day. As I recall, we debated who would go to heck when they died and who wouldn’t. It turns out we both told the truth.”

Eileen thought a while about what Wallace had said. As she did, vivid memories of their life together flooded her mind. Her feelings and resentment toward Wallace began to change. She began to relish the years when they first met. As those affections flourished, she could see and feel the basket she was part of growing. 

Wallace also felt the change. Instead of being a separate strand in the basket, his position moved closer to Eileen’s until they were directly connected. 

Somewhere in a park sat a strange-looking old man. And he smiled. 

E – Elections

Edward was tired, not physically tired, but emotionally drained. It was the year 2028, and another major election was coming up. He had spent the last three years listening to all the promises and plans of the upcoming candidates in all government areas: local, state, and federal. And Edward was tired.

From experience, he knew that most of the promises were empty ones. Whatever the candidate promised was based on their political party. The candidates refused to accept that some opinions from an opposing party were viable choices, even if, as individuals, they knew the other party was correct. 

Each candidate claimed they were telling the truth. To listen and believe an opposing candidate would have dire consequences. They all had facts to back their positions, some real, some fake. 

In reality, some of what was shared had merit. Some of what had been shared and promised in previous elections had been attempted and even accomplished. But, far more was tripe, memorized rhetoric, with unattainable results. 

We needed a different system of government. Oh, how Edward wished that would happen in his lifetime.

Edward lay back in his comfy recliner, turned off the TV, put on noise-canceling headphones to block out the sounds of cars racing through the neighborhood, and even put on his sleep mask to block out all the light in the room. He just wanted to get some uninterrupted rest and let his mind go blank (which was hard to do). 

He was startled by a tap on his shoulder. He removed his mask and headphones and looked around to see who had tapped him. There shouldn’t have been anyone in his house. The problem he discovered was that he wasn’t in his house. The house was similar to his own, but the furniture was very different. One could say it was futuristic, which it was. 

“Sorry to have startled you,” a familiar voice behind him said, “but I thought it was time to give you some of the answers you seek.” 

Edward quickly got up, turned around, and stared at the person facing him. 

There in front of him, stood a man, about the same height as Edward, with the same color eyes, much grayer hair, dressed in a one-piece jumpsuit style of clothing. This person was at least 90 years old but looked very healthy. 

“Who are you? And where am I?” Edward questioned. 

“I am from the future,” was the man’s first response, “As to who I am, I’m sure you’ll figure it out soon enough.”

A crazy thought entered Edward’s mind, but it was so ridiculous he let it pass. 

“You want to know whether the political structure in your time will change in your lifetime? And the answer is yes.”

“How will that happen?  I see no way the political climate is going to get better.”

“You think as many did, and without the disaster that took place in the twenty-first century, you would have been correct. But major disasters that threaten the globe can bring people together.”

Edward wasn’t sure what the man standing before him was talking about. “We have a major disaster looming. There’s climate change, misinformation about pandemics, pollution, poverty, and wars for possession of land, to name a few. These have been happening for years, and there has been no change. Things only got worse. How can one disaster change all that when nothing else seemed to work?”

The reply was simple. “That’s because this disaster was not even anticipated until it happened.”

“And political parties and their opposing views and information. How does one correct that?” Edward asked.

 Another simple response: “This was easily remedied because there are no more political parties. The only party that exists now is the Human Party. All views are listened to, and all facts are verified and accepted, both in the United States and all the countries of the world.”

This had to be a dream. There was no way anything like what was being described could actually exist. 

“I know you doubt this is the truth. I would share with you the world I live in now, but alas, I’m not permitted to do that. You need to trust me, or should I say you need to trust yourself, for you will be a big part of that change. And it starts now.”

This was a bit much for Edward to take. He sat down again, closed his eyes, and tried to focus on what was said. He had more questions to ask, but when he opened his eyes again, he was back in his recliner, house, and time. 

He never saw that person again. He had a suspicion about who that person might be, and if he’s right, he has about fifty more years before he find out if he’s correct. 

As for now, he had things to do. How does one get their name on a ballot?

D – Darkness

This continues the story Back to Selat. You may want to read that first if you haven’t already. 

——-

It was easy to find my way back to Selat, for I had used the portal numerous times while trying to help all the captured and freed characters remember their stories. I landed in the center of the main street in front of a storefront. I noticed that there was no light inside or outside the store. The sky was dark—no sun or moon, no stars, just darkness. 

I used my flashlight to look at the sign over the door that read, “ASK YOUR QUESTIONS HERE. LIMITED SUPPLY” This was where I first met the Caretaker of Selat. It was the right place, but what was going on? 

I entered the store and went to the front counter. I rang the bell on the countertop. Its sound rang pure and echoed through the room. 

A familiar voice called out, “Ask your question.”

I shined my flashlight on my face and asked, “Do you remember me?”

Usually, when one went to the caretaker, they were only allowed to ask three questions and had to pay for the answers. I had to make sure that the caretaker knew who I was since he had waived all limits and costs for me as a reward for all the help I had given saving Selat the last time. If he didn’t remember me, I only had two questions left to find out anything and would have to find a way to pay for the answers. Hopefully, I hadn’t just wasted a question.

After a moment, he responded, “You are the teller of tales, the savior of stories, the loved of Selat. Your visit was not foretold this time; however, your presence is needed. What brought you to our kingdom?”

I explained to the caretaker the events that preceded my arrival: the meeting with the mystic, the cryptic message that help was needed, that I was supposed to seek out the caretaker, and that something had happened to Red Riding Hood. 

The caretaker verified everything that I said. Red Riding Hood was indeed missing. Since then, darkness had covered the kingdom with what was assumed to be an evil spell. 

“Has Necroma returned?” I asked. 

“Not to our knowledge,” the caretaker said, “However, it would appear her dark magic has.”

“What do you expect me to do? Are there any clues?”

“Your task is whatever you feel is right. You might want to discover what happened to Red, why we live in darkness, and restore what was. Without light, all living things eventually die.”

According to the laws of Selat, the caretaker is not allowed to give direct help to anyone. He does have to oversee its inhabitants and ensure that the life of story continues, so he couldn’t summon me to be there himself. So even if he knew where Red was or how the darkness came, he could only give me hints, similar to what transpired between the Mystic and me. 

He continued, “There are creatures in Selat that are directly involved in all the events that have transpired. One might want to look into stories containing a missing character or causes of a darkened world. Time is short.”

Before I could respond, the caretaker was gone. I could no longer feel his presence.

Again, I was given truthful information—at least, I assumed it was since I trusted the caretaker—but not enough information to solve what I was called here to do.  At least it was a start.

I decided that the first thing I would do was go to Red’s grandmother’s house. Maybe there was a clue there that would help. 

To be continued in F – Fox