One-Minute Epics are new micro tales from John Klobucher’s Lore of the Underlings, a lyrical fantasy-fiction world. Here’s the latest installment…
Lam and Jury
Long ago, on the warm clear morn of old Nord’s Midsummer’s Day, two teenage lovers, Lam and Jury, lay together in a field of white lillylorn gazing up at the eye-blue sky. Lam was a doll-like beautiful girl with silken black hair, sweet smile, and bright eyes. Jury, a tall lanky boy, adored her and had sworn so in blood at the shrine of Nor Dool at last moon, the moment he’d come of age. The resident seer, a prune of a man, foresaw for the nominal fee of five farns their destiny — joined forever in lore, entwined in a love story worthy of song.
Now the young man squeezed her hand. “Lam, come run away with me tonight and we can be married tomorrow.”
“Don’t be silly, my heart,” she giggled. “Father would cross the Desert Sea to find us. We’ll hide better here.”
But no sooner had the words left her lips than a strange sight appeared in the azure above them. An object from out of the blue. A darkness. It hung in the air as a pendant hangs from a necklace, motionless, but like it was watching.
Jury and Lam were all but dumbstruck, transfixed as if they were pinned to the ground. But all around them everything levitated like magic, drawn up to the sky — petals of lillylorn pure as snow, green leaves of grass, thick sticks, even stones. Beasts too, creatures great and small, were called to the black mass.
And then Lam followed.
Her limp body rose like a marionette while Jury, still frozen alive, watched in horror. He saw her float up up up to the specter unable to help her or even call out her name. She vanished in deafening silence.
Jury awoke in a crater alone, except for the shadow eyeing him. Nothing would be the same again.
But that’s a tale for another time.