6th September 2017

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This is a serial, first part HERE

Chapter 45: Snow of Ill Hue

Doctor Bones awoke, as many of the protagonists of these stories do, in an awkward position. Fortunately the only thing in his upside down line of sight was a very bored looking Miss Fern. He was certainly more fortunate than many. A plant with a pretty maiden’s head is one of the more acceptable things to wake to in the uncounted dimensions.

“Ah, Doctor! Thank goodness you’re ok!”

Given that he been left in an position that would have been impossible had he a bit of flesh, Doctor Bones felt sure she had not been particularly worried about him. Not that he was concerned about the affections of a glorified potted plant.

-I managed somehow- Doctor Bones hinted, dusting himself off, he froze mid dusting… not that there was much dust in the coffin. A cleverly ordered average level of dust was present, for medical reasons.

-If I’m talking to you now, who is controlling the coffin? Did we crash again?-

“Why the rocks are controlling the coffin!”

-The rocks-

Doctor Bones looked at the control throne and sure enough the rocks were piled up on it, chattering and bickering away to each other. The mirrorscreen displayed a stable field of view, which meant that the flight of the coffin was likewise stable. There wasn’t even a little bit of wobbling.

“I was surprised at how good they are at this!”

It actually made a sort of sense to Doctor Bones, after all, whoever made the abominable user interface for the coffin’s spell matrices must have had rocks for brains. Figures that a bunch of rocks would find out what to to.

-Hey, Spooky Bossman, we’re getting close to where the spooky place should be- One rock said.

-Bossman? I thought we agreed that they’re pirates and we’ve been pressganged! Shouldn’t it be Captain-

-I never agreed to anything-

-You never agree to anything-


-He just agreed-

-How about Dark Lord. He looks like a dark lord type to me-

-Wearing white though. What kind of dark lord would be caught wearing white?-

-Director will be fine- Doctor Bones said before things could get even further out of hand.

-Oooh Director-

-Right fancy-

-Director he says-

-Wish I had someone to call me Director-

-Lotta nerve for such a bony guy-

-More like dictator-

Ignoring the comments, Doctor Bones turned his attention to the mirrorscreen.

“There’s just snow. Most of this place is just snow. How the rocks know where they’re going is beyond me. Just snow, snow and more snow”

-That snow doesn’t look right- Doctor Bones observed.

-Aha you noticed Director?-

-Right spooky ain’t it?-

-Gives me the creeps-

-Makes me feel like I’m cheese instead of rock-

-Doesn’t bother me-

-Weren’t you the one crying earlier about how it was going to be the doom of us all heading to this place-

“Ok, that’s really freaking me out. It just looks like snow to me, what are you guys seeing that I’m not?”

With a finger of bone, Doctor Bones pointed at the mirror.

-Snow should not look like that! Look, see how it fails to sparkle under the light of the sun!- he declared.

-If I could drink, I’d not take water made from that-

-Rocks, if you please, if you can, bring up a picture of regular snow!-

-Oh, I’ve been mucking about with that, one picture of snow coming up!-

In moments, a still image of regular snow appeared. The difference was stark. Pulling out a long ruler, Doctor Bones began to lecture about the differences.

-Behold, this snow is clear and pure appearing white, but the snow before us is of foul hue! If the normal snow is like a fluffy cloud of dreams, then this snow is like a stormy cloud of nightmares. Normal snow is still and gentle, even if it hides deadly crags, and even when taking the form of an avalanche it has a beauty to it!

The snow before us, if you look carefully, it shifts when it thinks we aren’t looking! It is ugly! it is lifeless and impure! Such snow, if you made a snowman for it, It is a certainty that a killer snowman would come into being! Such snow is like withered soil! If you used water made from it to clean a garment, the clothing would become filthy!

In summary the snow is just not right!-

“Ok. I get it now” Miss Fern stated flatly.

-Oh, Director! The spooky place is in view!-

Indeed it was. Deep within a jagged crag, as if the maw of some dread beast, carved into dull icy that hinted of cold death, was an ominous structure, one with a sigil like that of Latent Corpentsis. However, instead of a blue cross, there was an azure sword piercing the head of the corpentsis.