Acts of Heroism

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Ananda
Domains and Boundaries

“At last, a chance to rest. A long-awaited vacation,” said a middle-aged man, lying on a beach towel, sipping his drink, as the sun caressed and warmed his skin. However, this moment of serenity was short-lived, and came to an abrupt end when sudden shouts shattered the calm atmosphere he was enjoying.

“Eh…. What now?” he grumbled, lifting his eye mask to peek at the panicked crowd hastily vacating the beach. He observed the crowd hurrying past him, then his gaze landed on the receding waterline.

“Oh no… Not now. I’m resting,” he muttered to himself. Nonchalantly sipping his drink, he ignored the forming, colossal wave on the horizon. In his peripheral vision he saw another man leisurely strolling down the beach, in full-plate armor, a sword in one hand, a shield in the other – a quintessential hero stereotype. So much so, in fact, that the man found himself compelled to facepalm.

The armored man pointed his sword at the colossal wave on the horizon, full of resolve. The sun shone brightly upon him, causing his armor to twinkle in its rays. The middle aged observer finished his drink with a loud slurp and watched the aspiring hero, contemplating his strategy against the approaching tsunami. Unsurprisingly, it unfolded just as one might have predicted. The hero dashed at the tsunami, leaving behind a crater in the sand. Mighty speed and a powerful slash cut the wave in half, but neither stopped nor weakened it. The middle-aged man shielded himself with a basic magic-shield to avoid being splattered by the flying sand that the hero caused, a typical hero, oblivious to others who might be enjoying their first peaceful day on the beach in 137 years, 78 days, and 13 minutes.

The wizard rose to his feet. A snap of his fingers sent a gust of wind sweeping through the beach. His body was now clad in a magnificent robe, decorated with silver strings that embroidered various patterns and symbols. His hat was large, similar to an umbrella. After a quick and brief chant, he disappeared.

A moment later, the wave froze solid. Atop the icy peak walked the wizard, carrying the armored hero over his shoulder.

“Alright you fool, NOW you may proceed to cut it up.”

The hero was swift, and the tsunami was cut to pieces, and a moment later it thawed and the disaster was prevented. However, before the armored man had a chance to express gratitude to the wizard, the air beneath them trembled. A powerful gust catapulted the armored figure, along with half the city, into the air. The wizard tilted his head to the side. “Oh, you’re shi…” The other half of the city now stood behind a stone wall that emerged from the ground as suddenly as the tsunami froze before. The wizard heard a familiar voice shouting from afar, behind the newly erected stone barrier.

“WHAT?” He shouted back, unable to comprehend a word he was hearing. The voice replied, again unintelligible, too muffled to understand.

The expansive wall sunk into the ground with a gentle quake, shaking up the remaining half of the city. Behind the wall stood a figure in robes and a pointy hat. The wizard vanished, only to reappear beside the mysterious figure.

“WHAT?” He shouted. The other one responded in equal loudness,

“STOP YELLING! AND STOP SLACKING!” She yelled back at the middle-aged wizard.

“I am on vacation, Lysandra!!! It is NOT my duty to save the world when I’m on my much-deserved vacation.”

She frowned at him,

“Shut it, Isol, you lazy bum! Pack your hero and meet me at the rectangular table!”

A moment later, the hero emerged abruptly from a mailbox in a dark, gloomy room with a large table in the middle of it. He made a landing on the rectangular table where the other five mages heeded him no attention. Shortly after, Isol appeared.

“Elysia! Why didn’t you take the hero?”

She shrugged, “He’s not my problem, mine is  defending our kitchen from the flies!”

Isol took a peek into the kitchen, spotting two frogs sitting beside a recently cooked roast, gobbling up the flies buzzing around. “Oh…” He uttered.

He returned his attention to the table around which the mages had gathered. Off in a corner stood a mage in black robes, enshrouded by shadows and darkness. A mysterious aura surrounded him. That was Oberon. At the center seat sat a mage in pastel pink robes decorated with golden embroidery, the leader of the council, Orion. On the side, Elysia quarreled with another witch, Evangelina, each trying to be louder than the other. Beside Oberon sat a mage in blue robes, Frostborn, who remained quiet for the time being.

“Silence…” called out Orion, but the quarrel between the witches persisted. “Please, silence…” yet their bickering continued. Isol took a seat, while Oberon remained standing in his dark corner.

“Maybe if you didn’t wear pink, they’d take you more seriously,” remarked Isol.

“Shut it!”

Frostborn shouted out in response.

“You took the color red before Orion had a chance to call dibs on it, you bastard!” he remarked aggressively.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! The color selection was in order of… what was the order again?” Isol replied, pondering.

Orion, the leader adorned in pastel pink robes, spoke so softly that he was scarcely audible over the bickering witches.

“It’s okay, there’s no need to become aggressive,” he voiced with a philosopher’s calm.

“SHUT THE HELL UP, YOU DUMB WITCHES!” shouted Frostborn, instigating an uneasy silence. “The leader is speaking!” he announced, turning his gaze towards Orion, who appeared rather perplexed by the sudden mention.

“Just for your information, I never agreed to him leading us,” replied Evangelina, a malodorous witch. She shifted her gaze toward the dumbfounded hero in plate armor who awkwardly stood behind Isol, nodding eagerly at everything that was being said and offering thumbs-up on anyone who offered him even half their attention.

“So, who’s your new toy?”

Isol glanced over his shoulder at the hero who smiled at him, his teeth glinting. “I don’t know, but this one tried to cut a tsunami.”

Evangelina’s eyes sparkled from excitement. “Ohhh he’s smarter than Ely’s hero. Isn’t that right??? ELYYY???”

Elysia rolled her eyes. “My dumbass went to fight a swamp witch and got turned into a frog. Dumbass I tell you!”

Isol chortled at her remark. “Did he at least bring salt to the fight?”

Ely shook her head and all the mages burst into laughter. It is common knowledge that the sole weakness of swamp witches is salt.

When the laughter quieted down, Isol inquired of the council,

“And where are the other heroes of the realm?”

Evangelina pointed at a statue by the door. “That’s mine.”

Frostborn pointed at a stick bug on his shoulder who was wiggling side to side, and shrugged.

Orion tossed a wooden doll on the table without a word.

Oberon, the wizard in black robes, grinned. “One moment please.”

In the lands beyond oceans and mountains, a creature emerged from the shadows, its characteristics were vague – a human devoid of human features. It strode down the alley, stepping quickly and confidently, a target in its sights.

In the city plaza, a woman in armor landed nimbly on her feet, then leaped back, performing a backflip and simultaneously slashing with her sword. The hydra before her roared out in pain. Its second head went in for a strike, but Alena, the heroine, was not an easy target. She leaped directly into the beast’s mouth, and once inside its throat, she slashed swiftly, cleanly severing its head, she now stood atop the blood-stained neck, her sword and armor covered with the creature’s blood. Another one of the creature’s heads drew a deep breath.

“Too predictable,” she remarked, sporting a playful grin. With a swift step, a mighty leap, and a powerful kick in the jaw right as the fire was about to burst out, the creature’s head exploded from its own fiery breath.

The hydra’s body slumped and fell to the ground. Alena stood atop its breathless corpse, all three heads dealt with. The crowd cheered for her, the proclaimed demi-goddess of war, the mightiest hero in the realm. She was gorgeous, her blonde hair covered in the creature’s slimy, purple blood, did not sway in the wind. Nonetheless, she remained the dream of every man in the realm.

She leaped off the creature’s corpse and pushed through the crowd, she ventured into the back alley where something drew her attention. There, she came face to face with a creature of nightmares – a faceless, featureless shadow observing her closely.

The hydra’s corpse twitched and rose back to its feet. From its three heads, six more sprouted, all roaring in unison, shattering windows and inciting panic. The crowd swiftly fled in fear.

From the mythical beast’s shadow, a spear shot out, instantly piercing its belly. Subsequently, a sphere of spatial prison encased the six-headed monstrosity.

On the bench, a wizard in black robes sat unenthusiastically. He clenched his fist and the prison, along with the creature within, shrank. The sphere fell to the ground, now no larger than a basketball. Oberon sighed and murmured,

“Alena…?”

The quiet town center remained quiet and void of people. The heroine did not respond, forcing the wizard to go in search of her. He snapped his fingers and appeared behind her, he rested his hand on her shoulder.

“The council calls,” he murmured in an icy, monotone tone.

She turned to face him – a shadow retreated from her eyes. Oberon snapped his fingers once more, and she emerged from out of the mailbox at the rectangular table’s room.

Oberon was still leaning against the wall, engulfed in darkness.

“That’s mine,” He replied to Isol who had inquired about the other heroes. Alena bowed, her armor and skin were now clean of the creature’s blood. The wizards and witches applauded with excitement.

“What are her deeds?” Inquired Frostborn impatiently.

“I had just…” However, her speech was cut short by the hero, who, with a dumbfounded expression had been quietly standing behind Isol’s chair until now. He suddenly leaped onto the table, then from there, he sprang towards her, to embrace her. The unexpected embrace and momentum of the leap, combined with the weight of his armor, left the poor heroine defenseless as she fell to the ground.

“ALENA!!! I never thought I’d see you again!” cried out the hero, embracing her tightly.

The mages glanced at the heroes and sighed in unison.

“Alright fellow wizards and witches, I have called this council as the world is in disarray.” Orion proceeded with the explanation for the gathering.

“I am Alena…?” She spoke in a timid tone.

“YES! YES, YOU ARE!” the hero called out, clinging to her. “It is I, Athur! Don’t you recall me?”

The heroine mumbled his name, as if trying to memorize it and recall it.

“Athur… Athur…”

He nodded, “YES! YOU REMEMBER ME!”

Isol glanced at the heroes and shook his head, ‘she doesn’t, you dumbass… but you do you…,’ he thought to himself. His attention then returned to Orion.

‘Orion’s speech could be summarized in three simple words,’ Isol thought to himself at the end of a lengthy, hour-long explanation by the self-proclaimed leader of the council: ‘death, doom, and destruction.

Unexpected and unexplainable natural disasters are occurring all around the world, and we, of course, have to save the world.’ Isol let out a tired sigh.

“Alright, get to it, friends,” Orion said in a monotone voice, clapping his hands.

A magi-sphere appeared in the center of the table, displaying a miniature scale of their realm in real time.

To the East, mountains moved, leveling cities as they approached Lebol’s Archives. Elysia snapped her fingers, subsequently disappearing from the room.

“WHOLE MOUNTAIN? HOW?” Called out Frostborn and then disappeared before Orion could respond.

“It’s as if… oh he’s gone…  Uhh, as I was saying – It’s as if a higher force is toying with us…”

Evangelina glanced at another forming tsunami, then looked at the heroes. One was excitedly clinging, lying atop the other, shouting joyfully at her, while the other laid on the floor, dumbstruck by the stranger who had suddenly attempted to cuddle her. She snapped her fingers, and they vanished.

“Thank you for that,” Orion said, pointing at the super volcano that shook the entire western continent.

“On it!” She answered, then disappeared.

A pack of frost wyrms appeared at the North Pole. Orion clapped his hands and commanded,

“Handle the rest,” before phasing out of existence.

A gate to the underworld opened in the desert, and legions of creatures began pouring out. Oberon grinned and said,

“Ohhh, underworld, I ought to chat with their god. Ciao.” He vanished before Isol had a chance to react to the gate’s opening.

Isol complained about the others taking on events before he had a chance to react,

“Not fair… I wanted to… Ah, screw it.” He snapped his fingers, teleporting to the continental split that resulted from the supervolcanic eruption that Evangelina had gone to handle.

“So! You do remember me, right?” Athur called out as he walked alongside Alena toward a beach marked by a receding waterline. She tipped her head to the side, shadows briefly obscured her eyes before retreating once more.

“Athur… Tsunami…”

He nodded, “Yes, yes. I had vanquished a… OH MY GOD, A TSUNAMI!” He exclaimed, finally noticing a super-tsunami that had formed on the horizon. A column of black smoke began to rise into the air behind them, signifying the presence of a massive wildfire in the forests behind.

“So uh… Wanna handle the water or the fire?” he asked.

She remained silent.

“Alright, noted… I’ll just uhh… Come on Arthur, think… I will just…” He mumbled as he walked a few steps away from her. “Come on, man! We gotta impress her! Be smart! Oh, I know!”

A bright idea came to him: he could use the tsunami to extinguish the wildfire. In theory, it was a fantastic idea. However, in practice, he destroyed five smaller villages and one medium-sized city in the process.

There he stood, wet and victorious, his armor shimmered in the sunlight. The rays playfully bounced off his freshly washed, sparkling plate armor.

“Hah! Not bad eh?”

Suddenly, Alena’s eyes turned black, her attack swift, her blade sharp.

“Whoa there!” Athur barely managed to dodge her jab. “What the…?” He stared into her abyssal black eyes. “Oh no, you’re not possessed, are you? You are possessed!” He concluded.

Her eyes, two perfect black voids, tracked his movements. Her subsequent jab was sharper, swifter, anticipating his reaction and movements. The jab scraped his armor plating.

Looking down at the scratches, he remarked in a sad tone “Oh, I had just polished it with sea salt to make it more sparkly amidst the tsunami…” His voice was full of despair and sadness, he had not only failed to impress his childhood crush, but he had also somehow caused her to become possessed, or so he thought.

“Where are the wizards when you need them?” complained Athur while trying to go for a knockout, but the creature controlling Alena was not an easy opponent. Each of his strikes was in vain, each one from the creature drawing ever closer to his heart. Scratch after scratch, then a dent, followed by a small puncture.

“Alena, snap out of it! When I said ‘you pierced my heart with your looks at first sight’ I meant meant figuratively, not literally!”

The exchange continued for a minute longer before a creature of darkness burst out of Alena’s body, clutching Athur’s face with its shadowy claws.

“Quit dodging me! I will consume your face!”

Athur’s eyes widened as he rapidly shook his head in disagreement. At that moment, Alena regained control of herself, her blade pulsed with light as she whispered a chant, “In the brightest of days, the light guides my ways! The wizards may chant, but we mortals, we can’t! My blade knows truth and the way, be gone demon, go away!”

Her sword emitted a bright glow as it sliced the foul demon in half. Its pained screech was short-lived as its body vanished swiftly. Athur dusted himself off.

“Oh hey, you’re back.”

Her eyes widened.

“Idiot?”

He looked around. “What? Where?”

She slapped him on the face.

“OUCH!”

She grinned.

“Oh my god it’s really you! What are you doing here?”

She embraced him gently, their armors clinked as they clashed.

“Oh well … and then I decided to become a hero too so …” He proceeded to tell her his tale.

Their reunion was interrupted by a massive thunderous roar, accompanied by a vast earthquake. They lost their balance and tumbled to the ground, it seemed like the whole realm shook.

“By the lords it’s as if the gods have abandoned us!” Complained Isol, desperately chanting spells one after another to hold the continent intact.

“STOP! WHINING!” Elysia complained, holding back a super-volcano’s eruption, on the verge of losing her concentration due to the massive earthquake they all now faced, adding to the existing natural disasters.

“Ouch! Ahh! MY TOE!!!” Screamed out in pain a young man who had stubbed his toe on a massive wooden table. His gaze wandered over the landscapes on the table, some of which were moving, before darting to a black cat that sat upon the edge of the table.

“Ananda, what have you been up to?” The young man inquired of the black cat while rubbing his toe. He wore a robe of sorts, simple colors, but what wasn’t simple, were the decorations on it. They were words in ancient tongues, various of them, and patterns embroided of silver, gold, and various other metallic colors. His gentle, young face hardly expressed emotions even though he should have been in pain from stubbing his toe.

“Oh? Nothing. I just… put them through a minor test.” Echoed a deep, rumbling voice in the man’s head. The young man gazed upon the board, his lips curled up slightly into a twisted smirk.

“World wide natural disasters. How unsightly, I prefer a different approach, more elegant.”

The rumbling voice replied with a hint of sarcasm this time, still audible only to the man, whose gaze fell back upon the black cat. “Not all of us are conniving bastards like yourself, Kerdesal.”

The door into the room swung open, through it entered a man and a woman, both draped in ancient Grecian tunics and sandals. The man threw a glare at Kerdesal.

“Ananda, Kerdesal, we apologize for our tardiness, say, ‘s’all-right? I heard a shout.”

Ananda’s voice softened, it resonated in the heads of all present in the room.

“Kerd stubbed his toe and screamed like a girl, shaking up the realm in the process.”

Kerdesal grabbed the black cat by the scuff, lifting him up but then setting him down on the chair beside the table just as swiftly, calming his anger as soon as the cat’s golden eyes emitted a slight glow.

“Ananda was toying with the world.”

“Toying? Speak for yourself, mister walking earthquake. I was testing whether they were ready to exist on their own.”

The man in the Greek tunic approached the table and knelt down, to watch the struggling wizards who were succeeding in averting the world’s imminent destruction.

“Tsunamis, wildfires, super volcano, world-wide earthquake,” he paused for a moment, letting out a sarcastic cough, “gate to hell, invasion of a monstrosity from beyond the realm, you guys created an astonishing world for the inhabitants of it to survive all that.”

Kerdesal lifted his head up and glanced away from the table, out the window, “of course, for ‘twas I who proposed unrestricted magic to observe the limits to the powers of those who devote their existence to it.”

“And I who created the magic reserves for their world, and worked on connecting it to the world-tree, best not forget that, Kerd.”

Ananda’s voice was still only heard echoing in the heads of those present in the rooms, it sounded softer, calmer, but still defensive and on the edge. Ready to bite back at any aggressiveness.

The woman who entered the room alongside the man in Grecian tunic pulled out a tablet of sorts, a device on which she proceeded to tap with her finger. A moment later, data appeared over the table. Text floated in thin air, showing the number of inhabitants of the world, casualties from the disasters, and a single name, tagged as ‘strongest’, along with various other types of data such as: amount of continents, age of the world, estimated remaining life of the world, and list of highest threats to the existence of life on said world. The gods examined the data presented to them for a short while, and then the woman spoke at last, upon granting them all enough time to study the presented data.

“Excellent. Kerdesal, Ananda, the almighty ones are pleased with the results. You both passed and are eligible for the deity nominations.”

The three lesser gods in the room bowed to her and remained silent until she left the room.

“No thanks to you, cat! You almost caused our failure.”

“Or perhaps I showed her what our creations were truly capable of.” Ananda spoke, swiping his paw at the table to accelerate the flow of time in the realm for a brief moment.

“I’ll wipe it.” Called out Kerdesal, oblivious to Ananda’s previous remark.

“No, we’ll keep it. Archive it, there’s more to it…” Ananda responded in a calm tone, obviously distracted. His gaze was focused on a single person who was seen working in the fields. Whatever Kerdesal had to say after, was ignored by the black cat, and the annoyed lesser god stormed out of the room a moment later.

Ananda shrunk in size and disappeared, reappearing a moment later in the field where the man he was so focused on before was still carrying out his duties. The black cat quietly dug up a seed from the ground behind the man’s back, and then vanished before he was noticed, materializing again in a realm that even most deities struggled to comprehend. In an endlessly vast green field, greenery of which was interrupted only by beautifully contrasting red roses. In the middle of the field sat a man in black robes.

“Impressive.” Spoke a voice that seemingly came from everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

“Fascinating to say the least, I did not think that this realm would sprout.” Replied Ananda, his voice audible only to the man in black robes. In his teeth he held a seed which he spat out onto the grass.

“Take it, this realm is now permanent, and in your domain.”

The man appeared beside the cat, kneeling. He gently picked up the seed, dug a small hole in the ground with his other hand, and then planted it, carefully covering it in soil.

“I accept this world under my watch. Do be careful, though.” His omnipresent voice replied.

Ananda’s eyes glistened, and then he disappeared.

Audience prompts for this tale

• I was thinking about the sea so maybe we can get giant waves

• A monster that steals faces, after someone’s face gets stolen people close to that person forget him

• How about someone born in a year related to kings and heroes? Whenever the stars align and form a sword, the hero is born. He’s known as the savior of words, a kind individual whose passion is limitless and dreams big.

• The monster bears the face of someone the hero loves or loved. They’re torn about whether they can bring themselves to do it – if the person close to them is gone… If they can come back… or if the monster has become them.