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[pckwrites]

Them: It must be hard coming up with all those character names.

Fantasy writers:

[pckwrites]

I once asked my friend who makes pots for a living, "Why don't you ever share your pots with me?"

"I'm afraid you might not like them," he replied.

"But you sell them to plenty of people. How come you won't sell one to me even when I ask?"

"I don't mind what a stranger thinks of me. But I do care what you think of me."

"They're just pots though..."

"And I'm a potter. I spend my days and my years making pots. If you don't like what I've made, then you don't like what I've done with my life."

"I think you're reading too much into it. I just want to buy a pot."

[pckwrites]

31st Century

"Are you mad?! This completely proves my hypothesis!" The professor said as he dusted off the ancient artifact.

"I don't know... It looks like something else to me—"

"It's a religious tool. It fits perfectly in the hands and the discs are impressionable to create rhythmic sounds, probably for ritualistic purposes."

"But on the back. Don't you think—"

"And these dials. Perfect circular motions that mimic the orbit of the planets. By the gods, these were an intelligent people."

"But what about—"

"Yes, yes, I hear you! What of the objects on the back? Those are probably... hills! Of course, perhaps their society was built atop two perfectly symmetrical hills."

I observed the artifact closely. He had a point. They did look like hills. I mean, what else could this artifact possibly be?

[pckwrites]

"He looks... a little different," the King said.

"Are you sure? I was careful to follow the description down to the letter."

The King chose his next words carefully. He didn't want to offend the man. He was, after all, the nation's greatest expert on the subject.

"I suppose it's more an art than a science. He just doesn't look the way I remember."

"Our memories can often play tricks on us, you know. Rose-colored glasses and all that. I can assure you, I've preserved your precious pet in his most authentic state."

The King managed to force out a polite smile.

"Thank you... I'll cherish him always..."

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[pckwrites]

They want to stop me. Like cowardly specters, they conspire together.

I say, "Let them try."

They might have built this labyrinth to imprison me. Keep me hidden. But they could never satiate my hunger.

They don't realize that I hear their whispers—hushed tones that dance across these glowing walls. "Floor 256," they say. "We can't let him reach Floor 256."

What would I find there? What could it be... but freedom?

I am almost there. I have nearly eaten my fill. The specters close in on me, but they know I have grown too powerful.

They know I have won.

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[pckwrites]

"It'll never work, Usur."

"Maybe. Maybe not. We'll see."

Usur waded into the waters of the Euphrates. He carried with him the goat-skin bag he had painstakingly stitched together until it was air-tight. At the end was a tube he had fashioned out of goat's horn.

As he ventured deeper into the waters, his friend shouted at him from the shore, "If you somehow make it down there, I'll eat my sandals!"

Ignoring him, Usur peeled the wax seal off the horn, careful to keep his thumb over the opening so no air could escape. With his other hand, he adjusted the belt securing the heavy rocks fastened to his waist.

With the water now reaching his chest, Usur gazed down into the dark depths. He wondered what fantastic mysteries might be hidden below.

Usur took a deep breath to calm his nerves, held the goat skin bag close to his chest, and dove down.

[pckwrites]

"Take this. For protection." The large behemoth of a man plucked the pendant off its chain and handed it to me.

"Wear it into battle and it'll grant ya the strength of Thor hisself!" The behemoth roared with laughter, revealing teeth shattered from countless battles.

He remarked, "Maybe next time you all can put up a better fight."

As I felt the cold steel of the pendant on my palm, the behemoth returned to his raiding party. One of them called out, "Any survivors?"

He grunted back, "No. Just a little pup."

I watched as the behemoth and his party rode away, leaving my destitute village in their wake.

Homes burnt down. Crops ripped from the soil. The bodies of brave men littering the ground.

I gripped the pendant tightly. The sharp edges tore into my flesh. As blood spilled down and into the earth, I made a promise.

This would never happen again.

[pckwrites]

He studied my face with a bewildered expression, "You... look familiar. Do I know you?"

I took a moment to muster up a response that properly summarized centuries of unspoken feelings.

Instead I replied, "I don't think so, sorry. Do you mind moving your cart?"

You are immortal. You didn’t realize your ex from 200 years ago was also immortal until you run into each other while grocery shopping.

[pckwrites]

“Mama? Why can’t I go down into the valley, where the ruins are?” 

Mizha felt the brush stopping halfway through her tangled hair as her mother paused. Mizha could sense this was a topic she didn't want to discuss.

“Evil spirits lurk down there," she finally replied, her tone cautious. "Demons that have walked this world far longer than you or me.”

“But the other kids… Some of them play a game to see who can get the closest—“

“Mizha!” Her mother's voice was sharp as she gripped her daughter's shoulders. “Those children are fools. Promise me you will never go down there.”

Her mother’s eyes were stern and frightening. Mizha realized it would be better to keep quiet and nodded her head obediently.

As her mother resumed brushing Mizha's hair, her thoughts drifted back to earlier that day. It was a strange thing to see those ruins up close. Cryptic markings had decorated the walls and strange objects made of a peculiar stone littered the ground. Even the air felt different—alive, almost.

Perhaps her mother was right. Perhaps evil spirits did wander those ancient halls.

[pckwrites]

Oedipus raised an eyebrow, "That's not what I was told."

“And since you were told, it must be law?" The sphinx replied with an amused smirk.

The sphinx leaped off her perch and circled Oedipus. Her great claws dug deep into the dirt. Her enormous wings brushed against his shoulder. “Or perhaps the coming up of a riddle is too much mental strain for you.”

The sphinx's taunts were transparent, but effective. Oedipus’ wit had been challenged and he had to respond. 

He spoke proudly, “I have a riddle for you. What is of one voice and walks with four legs in the day, two legs in the afternoon, and three in the evening?”

The sphinx’s tail whipped against Oedipus’ legs. “I did not realize a typical human lifespan took course over a single day.”

Oedipus frowned. That was his favorite riddle.

“What fun!” The sphinx howled, “How nice it is to be on the other side for a change. Another!”

The sphinx’s enthusiasm brought a glimmer of a smile to Oedipus’ face. As the day passed, he came up with dozens of more riddles, each of which the sphinx answered with great amusement.

As the sun began to set, Oedipus’ mind had exhausted itself, while the Sphinx’s cheeks ached from laughter.

“Another one!” The sphinx commanded with boundless energy.

Oedipus lay sprawled across the ground. “You sure do enjoy riddles, don’t you?”

“They pass the time. Travelers don’t often take this trail. Much too dangerous.” The sphinx smirked, “Vicious beasts abound.”

Oedipus remarked, “That sounds.... lonely.”

The sphinx lifted her chin with pride, “A daughter of Echidna has no need for company. We are solitary creatures.”

She looked out and saw the sun starting to dip below the horizon. With a hint of disappointment in her voice, she said, “And as usual, it seems our time together has come to an end.” 

Oedipus replied, “Actually, I have one more riddle for you.”

The sphinx laughed, “One last gasp, is it? You’re a stubborn one. Very well, one final riddle before I enjoy my meal.”

Without daring to look her in the eyes, Oedipus asked, “Why does a sphinx enjoy riddle games with mere humans?”

The sphinx’s muscles tightened. Her expression turned dark. “That is not a riddle.”

“Do you not have an answer then?”

The sphinx snarled, but her pride would not let him get the best of her. She answered, “The cat likes to play with the mouse before she eats it, does she not?”

“Wrong.” Oedipus replied. 

The sphinx’s fur began to rise. She demanded with venom in her voice, “What is the answer then?”

“Only if you promise me safe passage.”

The sphinx snarled at him. She considered silencing this man, once and for all. But her curiosity was too great. The words trickled out with great reluctance, “I… promise…”

Oedipus laughed as he rose to his feet and dusted off the dirt from his tunic. “The answer is simple.”

With a friendly grin, he explained, “It’s because you need two to play at riddles.”

The sphinx’s claws dug into the dirt as she pondered his answer. Then, with a flash of anger, she snapped, “That doesn't count! That's a terrible riddle!”

As he walked down the dirt path towards his destination, Oedipus glanced back and shouted, “I’ll come back soon then. With even more riddles!”

The sphinx watched as Oedipus shrunk into the distance. Although she still fumed from his answer, the sphinx mused at the day’s events and found herself looking forward to this stranger's return.

The sphinx sat perched atop its rock and gazed down at Oedipus, "I tire of riddles that measure the shallow depths of man. If you wish to pass, you must tell me a riddle that even I cannot solve."

[pckwrites]

The sphinx sat perched atop its rock and gazed down at Oedipus, "I tire of riddles that measure the shallow depths of man. If you wish to pass, you must tell me a riddle that even I cannot solve."

[pckwrites]

"W-Who are you?" the boy whimpered.

The youthful voice coming out of the bull's mouth stunned Theseus. His throat clamped shut and he could hardly speak. This boy was the deadly minotaur of legend?

The boy rose to his feet with a sudden rush of courage. "Y-You better not come any closer!" He grabbed a knife off the ground and held it towards Theseus.

Upon closer examination of the knife, Theseus noticed the shining bronze handle, the finely crafted jeweled inlays, and the crest of Pandion, a noble Athenian house.

"Where did you get that knife?" Theseus asked as he sheathed his blade.

"Th-The big kids. They snuck in here when they shouldn't have. They made fun of me and poked me and called me awful names."

"What happened to them? Are they here?" Theseus asked carefully.

The boy's lip quivered. He raised his knife and pointed its tip at Theseus. "They weren't supposed to be here! Daedalus said nobody could get through the maze!"

A feeling of dread fell over Theseus. The children he had been sent to save were dead. Even worse, they had entered of their own accord, most likely to gawk at the infamous man-beast.

Theseus' fingers gingerly tugged at the thread that tethered him to the entrance. Its presence reassured him.

He spoke calmly to the boy, "I understand. It's not your fault. I'll take my leave."

For a moment, the boy seemed relieved. The stranger was leaving. But that relief soon gave way to fear of a malicious kind, filled with angst and ill omens.

"How do I know you won't return? You know where I am now."

Theseus shook his head, "I won't. I promise you."

"What if you tell someone? What if more come back and are cruel to me again?"

Theseus sensed the situation starting to unravel. He prayed that the boy would heed his word and no blood would spill.

However, the boy rushed towards him with the knife raised.

Theseus' hand moved towards the hilt of his blade. His eyes, seasoned from battle, couldn't help but notice the boy's beastly strength and his powerful roar. Perhaps if he were born under a different star, he would have been a great hero.

But the gods were cruel.

As he turned a corner of the labyrinth, Theseus caught a glimpse of jet black fur and monstrous horns. He instinctively raised his blade high above his head.

But just as Theseus prepared to strike, he found frightened, youthful eyes gazing back at him. Attached to a bull's head, yes. But also to the body of a boy no older than his teens.

[pckwrites]

As he turned a corner of the labyrinth, Theseus caught a glimpse of jet black fur and monstrous horns. He instinctively raised his blade high above his head.

But just as Theseus prepared to strike, he found frightened, youthful eyes gazing back at him. Attached to a bull's head, yes. But also to the body of a boy no older than his teens.

[pckwrites]

Part 3

House limped through the corridor of the starship, moving as quickly as his leg would allow. Wilson followed closely behind.

“I assume you’ve come to a revelation?” Wilson asked in an exasperated tone. 

“It’s the midichlorian receptor count.”

“Are the death sticks getting to you? You just said it was normal.”

“She just gave birth to twins. It should be in the tank. But instead, it’s normal.” House gave Wilson a knowing look, “Which means…?”

It dawned on Wilson, “Which means her count was high to begin with.” 

House continued, “Darth Hubby’s tantrum exposes her to extreme levels of the force, causing her midichlorian receptors to spike. That creates all sorts of nasty problems, but before we can take a look at her blood, she goes into labor and her receptor count drops back down, hiding it from our tests.”

Wilson voice softened, “She’s not dying because she lost the will to live. She’s dying because she kept fighting.”

House rolled his eyes at the sentiment, “No. She’s dying because she’s an idiot. What kind of moron actually goes to the volcano planet? Holoprojectors exist in this universe, you know.”

They approached the medical unit where a locked door stood in their way. House punched the voice module with the end of his cane, “Housekeeping!”

He turned to Wilson, “We have to lower the receptor count fast or her blood is going to turn to force-induced slurry.”

The medical unit doors shot open. House and Wilson entered to find Padme Amidala lying on a bed, surrounded by a team of medical droids. The senator was pale and on the verge of death. 

One of the droids rolled up to House, “You’re not allowed to be here—“

“I know you’ve got protocols, but I actually have a medical degree.” House limped past them towards Padme. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a glass vial filled with glowing neon fluid. 

As he removed the cap to expose the needle, House felt a strong grip on his shoulder. A tall figure with regal stature stood behind him. House recognized the politician, “Bail Organa. I heard you offered to adopt the daughter. Mazel Tov.” 

“Senator Amidala’s final moments are in my care and I will not let some deranged stranger make decisions without my—“

“Seems like a conflict of interest, don’t you think? If she lives, you lose a child.”

Organa looked appalled, “You dare suggest—“

“Oops.” House inserted the needle into Padme’s arm. His thumb pressed down on the plunger and injected the glowing fluid into the senator’s veins.

Organa pushed House aside, “What did you just do?!”

“Nothing like death sticks to liven up the party.”

Wilson looked down and muttered, “Oh my god…”

Organa turned red with fury. He grabbed House by the collar and struck him in the face. House tumbled to the floor. 

“Do you have any idea what you’ve just done? I’ll have you thrown in a prison, you bastard—“

“Cilona extract.” 

Confused, Organa’s anger momentarily abated. House wiped the blood from his split lip.

“Studies have shown that it can bind to midichlorian receptors in the blood. Do you want to take a guess what the generic brand for cilona extract is?” 

After a quiet pause, Wilson spoke up, “Death sticks.”

“They weaken your connection to the force. It’s why they’re so addictive.” House massaged his aching leg, “it’s an easy escape from reality.”

Organa’s attention quickly turned towards Padme. Color had already returned to her pale complexion and her breathing had steadied. Organa let out a relieved sigh.

House picked up his cane and limped towards the exit. “She’ll survive. Her marriage probably won't though."

(The End)

by pck

Thank you all for reading!

A strange alien doctor stands near the unconscious body of Padme Amidala. “It appears she has lost the will to live.” A older man with a limp hobbles closer with the aid of a cane. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” says Dr. Gregory House.

[pckwrites]

PART 2

House leaned back in his chair as the Republic Cruiser ripped through hyperspace. A stick filled with luminescent fluid twirled through his fingers as he concentrated on the case at hand.

Before he could get comfortable, the metal doors shot open. 

“HOUSE!” Wilson stormed in, fuming. “I was with a patient when those droids you sent practically dragged me here—“

“Before you finish that thought, you have gotta try one of these death sticks. One hit and you’ll feel like you're on Bespin."

Wilson looked stunned, “Are… Are you high right now?”

“We’re on a spaceship, Wilson. We’re all pretty high right now. Ba dum tss.”

“House, this is insane. Take me back. Now.”

“Tell me, why would a woman in her twenties, perfectly healthy, suddenly have a grand mal seizure while being treated in a bacta tank?”

Wilson stared at House, dumbfounded, “You brought me here for a case?”

“No previous history. Sure, she was force choked, but that wouldn’t cause her symptoms.”

“She’s an alien, House. What could you possibly know about her medical history?”

House gave a dismissive shrug, “She’s from Naboo. It’s like… Space Italy.” 

“Right, and this isn’t a Republic Cruiser, it’s just my cousin Giuseppe’s vespa.”

House tapped the glowing death stick against the handle of his cane as he muttered to himself, “I was wrong about her midichlorian receptor count. Labs came back normal.”

“Her husband was complicit in a galactic coup and tried to kill her. I’d lose the will to live too.”

House ignored Wilson, “We’d see a tumor on an MRI… No, this is something else. Something more interesting.”

Wilson grabbed the death stick out of House’s hand. “No. You want it to be something else. Because you can’t accept the alternative, that someone could actually die from too much love.”

House stared at the neon fluid of the death stick as it dripped down the side of its translucent container. His eyes widened as he came to a realization, “… Or too much of something else.”

He snatched the death stick and limped towards the exit.

#HouseMd #StarWars #fanfic #writingcommunity

A strange alien doctor stands near the unconscious body of Padme Amidala. “It appears she has lost the will to live.” A older man with a limp hobbles closer with the aid of a cane. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” says Dr. Gregory House.

[pckwrites]

(Quickly turns off the basement lights and dashes up the stairs through hellish darkness)

prompt 2385

“I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.” 

― Frank Herbert, Dune

[pckwrites]