Return to Musica

[Malliki]

The sun shone a bright orange as it slowly made its way down towards the sea. The water glistened in front of the Countal Yacht making its way back to the City from the Isle of Myn. The Count had evacuated the city just in time to avoid the fires and the celebration. He had always thought that the Fiesta de la B0O0/\/\ was a barbaric tradition, but tradition in Shireroth cannot be changed easily. The rather large ship rocked gently as it made its way to the capital of the county. The water more resembled a small mountain lake than a large sea. It was a light turqoise, the count's favorite color.

As the ship came closer to the city, a dark plume of smoke became visible through the haze. The count sighed heavily, wiped a tear from his eye and went below deck. Arrangements would have to be made for the return of the count. No one in the crew knew if any of the people in the city had returned yet. Just as the count sat down in one of the comfy chairs, there came a bellow from the deck.

- My Lord! Come up and see! The lighthouse is... lit, said the captain, a person with the vocabulary of a small parrot.
- Are there any other buildings visible, asked the count as he quickly negotiated the stairs.
- I'm not sure, my Lord...
The captain hesitated. He knew that the count was very attached to his city, and the view in the captain's binoculars would not be good for the man's health.
- Out with it man, or I'll have you keelhauled, shouted the count with a mad grin.
The captain sighed. No man of the nautical persuasion would use the word "keelhaul" anymore, at least not as a serious threat.
- Oh my, I would not like that, he replied with badly disguised irony. The only houses left standing in the city are the lighthouse and the Mended Drum pub.
The count felt a cold chill. He had not been the Count of Musica for long, but this fate for his beloved capital city had not occurred to him.
---
As the count got off the yacht in the harbor he was filled with emotions. He felt enraged, that someone dared do this to his beloved city. Thoughts of revenge crossed his mind. He would invade the rest of Shireroth! Granted he had no army, but anyway. A couple of rabid Musican dogs would go a long way. Just as fast as the feelings of rage had swept over him, came a new feeling, an emotion that filled his very being. A feeling of despair. The count fell down on his knees, raised his hands above his head and shouted:
- Oh why, my Gods, have you forsaken me? I have always observed the ways of the gods. Have I not always lighted the ceremonial firecracker before each meal? Have I not sacrificed exploding sheep in your honor? Why have you done this? To ME!?

The count stared at the sky. The moon stared back, like the eye of a god, snickering and quietly ignoring him. He tried a different approach.
- Oh great god Ayreon, God of Music, hear my plea! My beloved city has been burned to the ground! I beseech you to help me!
At first nothing happened. Then, suddenly, there was a sound as if the universe had snapped its fingers. A shape of a small man holding a mango appeared before the count.
- Oi, what's this then? I was just having my evening tea and you disturb me with this beseeching crap! Who are you anyway, the man asked.
- I am the Count of Musica, the count answered. Who are you? The count was known for not always being able to connect the dots.
- I am Ayreon. Not the Kaiser, the God, the man added quickly.
The count's eyes bulged. He had never met a god before. He had always thought of them as awe-inspiring, not... plump.
- Eh, okey-dokey, the count replied hesitantly. Can you help me?
- With what then, the god Ayreon replied impatiently.
- You might not have noticed, began the count, but the City of Musica is burnt to the ground.
- Oh, nothing else? I'll fix it, just don't bother me when I'm eating in the future, replied Ayreon and snapped his fingers.
Nothing happened.
More of nothing happened.
The count looked at Ayreon in a very sceptical manner.
- Oh sorry, my fingers were all mango-y, said the god hurriedly and wiped his hands on his trousers. He snapped his fingers again. The dust around the count started wirling around, shaping itself into buildings again. Ayreon slapped the count right across the cheek.
- Hey, what did you do that for, said the count, rubbing his cheek.
- For being a naughty boy, replied Ayreon. No bothering me in the future now, he continued. He took a bite out of the mango, juices dribbling down his chin, his face turned into a satisfied grin. There was a sound like a whip cracking, and Ayreon was gone in a puff of smoke.

All around the count, the city began reassembling itself. Grey and black ashes regained their old color. Ashes wirled up, together forming house-like shapes, and became solid, like reality coming into focus. The count remained on his knees, astounded. He soon found himself, stood up and brushed the dust and ashes off his clothes.
- Right, I'll just go up to the castle now, the count said to no one in particular. Just in case someone listened.

The count sighed with relief, tears of joy running down his cheeks. He had his city back. At least for a year...

[hypatias mom]

Now, doesn't that make it all better?

I love your story. This is the best rebuilding story I've read yet. Keep up the great work, Mike.

(But the Fiesta was a blast, you know, and lots of fun. We missed you there.)

[Malliki]

Thanks. I went to Myn for the Fiesta mainly because I didn't want to see the city burn. But now I'm back.