A Very Important Clump of Grass

A Very Important Clump of Grass

It was winter.

There was still snow on the ground. But it was melting and slushy.

Dead brown grass was peaking through the muddy slush. Tiny specks of green, new young grass shoots were sticking out. Nothing odd. A very normal March thaw in 40th century Maine, where the fractured moon hung low over the global polar vortex, and the undead lobsters lurked in every crevasse.

A peaceful, quiet Maine day, save for the elderly Persian Moon Elf with JellyFish tentacles for hair, dressed in his resplendent pink silk finery, throttling a random Human in front of a roadside tavern, while a tiny fluffy purple Shetland pony with a gleaming silver horn, and a tall lanky man, who was more sheep than man stood on and watched …

“Listen to what you have done!” Quaraun shrieked hysterically, as he grabbed the Human’s hand, forcibly dragging the man to the ground, and holding the man’s hand palm down on the ground, under his own frail fingers. “Can you not hear it? They scream in pain. You Humans are so cruel! So selfish! You kill and maim and give no thought to others! You think only of yourselves!”

The man was not listening to the old Elf’s words. He was too busy screaming in agony. All he could feel was the intense screams of the dying grass, ringing through his ears. His own screams echoing the pain the plants felt, as Quaraun’s psionic mind link put the plant’s pain into the Human’s body.

“Your worthless Human life, means nothing!” Quaraun yelled. His twelve foot long living jellyfish tentacle hair whipped and lashed around him, wrapping itself snakelike around the Human’s throat. “You’re life is not worth more than the life of this plant!”

“Quaraun! Stop!” GhoulSpawn cried out. But he dare on get any closer for fear the JellyElf’s deadly stinging hair would lash out at him as well.

“BoomFuzzy! Stop him!”

The Unicorn, casually glanced in the direction of Quaraun, but being blind, saw nothing. Then glanced back in GhoulSpawn’s direction, not seeing him either. “Why?”

“What do you mean why?” GhoulSpawn was becoming hysterical now. “He’s killing him?”

“So?”

“So! Is that all you have to say?”

“Tis a Human, Ghouly. I doesna much care for de creatures. And Quaraun is right. Humans is destroying de planet. The fewer de better.”

“Wha…?” GhoulSpawn sputtered and stammered many partial words, unable to form any words at all.

“Besides,” BoomFuzzy continued. “Yis a Demon. A free Demon. Demons was not free before, ya know? Demons was slaves to Humans. Before ya time. And they’d enslave ya kind again, given the chance.”

“Killing’s not right,” GhoulSpawn said quietly. He felt too defeated to argue.

“Hmmm.”

The sound of the Human’s suffering anguish, mingled with Quaraun’s deranged screams, as the little fluffy purple Unicorn got up, stretched, yawned, stretched again, and then lazily trotted over to The Pink Necromancer, who was still throttling the Human.

“Yis, upsetting de goat,” BoomFuzzy said to Quaraun.

“I’M A SHEEP!” GhoulSpawn yelled.

Quaraun stopped strangling the Human, and looked back at GhoulSpawn, cowering several feet away to avoid Quaraun’s deadly JellyFish hair. He then looked back at the Human, and released his tentacle grip on him. The Human sprawled on the ground, clutching his throat and gasping for air.

“Consider yourself lucky,” Quaraun snarled at the Human.

Quaraun stood upright and set about to brushing the dirt off his pink silks. Quaraun’s blue eyes sparkled with unshed tears as he whispered ancient chants, his voice as fragile as the broken moon above.

The Human scrambled to his feet and ran away.

GhoulSpawn slowly inched he way closer to Quaraun, uncertain if it was safe to get close to the old Moon Elf necromancer again, or not.

“What was THAT about?” GhoulSpawn asked.

“He was killing the grass,” Quaraun answered, not looking up.

“What?”

Quaraun stopped brushing dust from his ruffles, and pointed a long, thin, perfectly manicured, bejeweled finger to the section of grass which was burned. The expression on Quaraun’s face, told GhoulSpawn that this answer made perfect sense, but GhoulSpawn could make no logic to it at all.

“I don’t understand,” GhoulSpawn said at last.

“He was setting fire to the grass.”

“So, you were going to kill him?”

“Yes.”

“That makes no sense.”

Quaraun sighed and rolled his eyes.

“I do not know what sort of place you come from, but your laws are clearly different from ours.”

“Clearly.”

“There is so little grass. Have you not noticed?”

“I have. You got a lot of snow here.”

“A comet hit our planet, some two thousand years ago. Sent us into an ice age. This polar vortex is global. The whole planet is buried in ice and snow. You were not born yet-”

“I wasn’t here yet either. I’m not even supposed to be on your planet, remember?”

“Yes.” The pink silk of his robe fluttered in the biting wind, a stark contrast against the desolate, snowy landscape. “And we shall send you home if we can find a way to do so. But the fact remains, vegetation is needed to sustain life. Something as simple as a few blades of grass is very precious here, Glinta-”

“GhoulSpawn.”

“Yes. I know.”

“My name is GhoulSpawn.”

“I know this.”

Quaraun’s silver hair cascaded down his back, shimmering like moonlight on a frosty Maine evening. His venomous tentacles were relaxed now as he spoke to GhoulSpawn.

“You keep calling me Glinta.”

“Yes, and his name is Gwallmaiic and I keep calling him Unicorn or BoomFuzzy,” Quaraun said while pointing to the tiny goat sized purple Shetland Pony who was just now sharpening his gleaming silver horn on a granite ledge.

“Why can’t you call anyone by their name?”

“Because I am a Wizard of the D’Jinn Order.”

“You keep saying that, but I have no clue what that even means. I’m not from this planet, you know!”

“Do na worry, Ghouly,” BoomFuzzy answered, before Quaraun had a chance to. “Him does na know what it means neither.”

“Either.”

“Aye. I did said that.”

“No you didn’t.”

“I,” Quaraun interrupted. “Have dedicated my life to restoring Vesonta back to the way it was-”

“Only on account of him is one what caused this,” BoomFuzzy said to GhoulSpawn.

“You interrupted my pontificating!”

“Of course I did. Yis will be doing it all day if I didna.”

Quaraun ignored what BoomFuzzy said and responded to BoomFuzzy’s previous statement instead.

“I did not cause the comet strike! The comet strike happened before I was even born!”

“Ah. Nay. But ya caused the ice age, a hundred years later.”

“That was an accident!”

“Him was drunk, while trying to make a Frost lich, and he went un turned de entire planet into a Frost Lich. We is like fleas living on great big living dead thing now.”

“Is the planet really alive?” GhoulSpawn asked.

He stared down at the ground, and picked up first one hoof and then the other, as if terrified to walk on the ground, for fear it would come alive and swallow him. In this, Quaraun’s bizarre world, GhoulSpawn had seen enough strange things to believe such was possible. The crunch of snow underfoot of his cloven hooves, was a constant reminder of the alien desolation that surrounded him in this strange planet.

“YES!” Quaraun shrieked quickly before BoomFuzzy had a chance to interrupt him again. “That is why it screams when you hurt it! You can not go around setting fire to the grass!”

“Quaraun, I think you need to calm down.”

“NO!” Quaraun stamped his foot for emphasis, and did so in a puddle of muddy slush. “NOW LOOK WHAT YOU DID!”

Quaraun flung his arms around hysterically while pointing to his pink silk slippers.

“I didn’t do it!” GhoulSpawn said, backing away, while BoomFuzzy snickered. “Don’t laugh at him. He’s worked up enough already.”

“MY SHOE!” Quaraun was now flinging his fists over his head, his muddy shoe in hand, and his bare foot now standing in the snow instead. Quaraun’s blue eyes, wide and luminous, mirrored the despair of the shattered moon, revealing depths of sorrow and wisdom. “THERE’S MUD ON MY SHOE!”

“Yes. I can see that. What do you want me to do about it?”

“THERE’S MUD ON MY SHOE!”

“Quaraun, please stop screaming-”

“NO! MY SHOE IS MUDDY! LOOK AT IT!! THAT IS MUD!”

“Is he always like this?” GhoulSpawn asked BoomFuzzy.

“Always,” BoomFuzzy chirped cheerily.

The gleam in BoomFuzzy’s eye as he plotted is next move was cunning, a spark of strategy and survival, mixed with mischievous deviance. The sadistic Phooka loved nothing more then to annoy the high strung JellyElf. BoomFuzzy trotted over to the grass, which Quaraun had now forgotten he was upset about, and ate it.

Quaraun, still focused on his soiled shoe, did not notice, what Phooka had done. The crisp crunch of snow beneath Quaraun’s feet, one bare and one still shoed, kept time with his thoughts, a steady rhythm in the silent, desolate expanse.

“You just ate the grass he was going to kill that guy for,” GhoulSpawn said, stating the obvious.

“Yup,” BoomFuzzy agreed as he pulled up another mouth full of grass and chewed on it.

“Why?”

“I is a horse. We eats grass. Precious little of it des days. Plus, this grass nice and cooked. De Human did roast it for me. Very yummy. Cooked grass. I not had good grass in ages.”

“I thought you were a Phooka and you ate Elves.”

“I done did eat all the Elves. You un Quaraun be last two.”

“I’m a Ursurig.”

“Aye. All that means is ya daddy was a Demon who went boinking himself a she-Elf.”

“My point was, you are not a horse by nature, so you don’t need to eat grass.”

“I a horse right now, and that means I gots me horse entrails what be needing horse diet.”

“I think you mean organs, not entrails.”

“Same thing.”

“No. It’s not actually.”

“Of course-”

“MY GRASS!” Quaraun was suddenly beside them, still clutching his muddy pink silk shoe in one hand, now pointing to the blades of grass hanging out of the little purple Unicorn’s mouth.

There was a long pause as the three of them stood silent, GhoulSpawn and BoomFuzzy waiting for Quaraun to have another outburst, pull out his wand and pelt them with poison sea slugs, rain shattered stained glass shards from the clouds on them, something, anything. But the old Elf did nothing. Quaraun stood speechless for several moments. Neither GhoulSpawn nor BoomFuzzy dared move.

“You ate my grass,” Quaraun said quietly, his voice now barely above a whisper.

“Aye,” BoomFuzzy said, as he went back to chewing the grass.

“But I needed it. The planet is dying. We have to take every green plant we can find back to the bio-dome, propagate it, harvest seeds, take the seeds out to the villages, teach them how to grow it. Grass is so rare. I needed it to help save the planet.”

Quaraun peered into the enveloping fog, its ghostly tendrils whispered secrets meant only for his ears. The pine-scented, frosty air filled Quaraun’s lungs, a bittersweet blend of life’s persistence and the omnipresence of death.

BoomFuzzy burped loudly.

“Planet’s dead, Quaraun.”

“Why are you eating my grass?”

“I is a horse. As I did just explain to Ghouly.”

Quaraun looked up at GhoulSpawn.

GhoulSpawn shrugged.

“He ate my grass,” Quaraun said to GhoulSpawn.

“I had noticed.”

“He ate my grass,” Quaraun said again, clutching his muddy shoe like his life depended on it.

“Yeah. I know. Come on. Let’s go back in the tavern and dry out your shoes.”

The Pink Necromancer, Moon Elf silk weaver & merchant: Quaraun on Noodle Beach. His master chef Phooka turned Lich husband: BoomFuzzy with his 1968 VW Bus Beach Noodle Food Truck. And their on again/off again mad scientist Sheep Demon lover: GhoulSpawn with his 1974 AMC Gremlin time machine. Time Travel setting swings back and forth between 40th century Maine after a comet hit the moon decimating the planet, and the 1970s, Maine. Quaraun in the main character, he and BoomFuzzy are a married gay couple. GhoulSpawn is their shared live-in lover. Art by Wendy Christine Allen.

BoomFuzzy

Quaraun

Faeries vs Elves (In The Quaraun Series) A Pink Necromancer World Lore Post

The Pink Necromancer: The Adventures of Quaraun The Insane aka The Twighlight Manor Series

🌸🦄🌸 Furry Yaoi Fiction about Elves and Faeries and Satyrs and Demons and Unicorns and Technomancer Wizards and Liches living in a Lighthouse and surviving as Travelling Merchants and Food Truck Chefs in Cyberpunk Dystopian 40th Century Maine, and Zombie Apocalypse and Time Travel but it’s Slice of Life Vignettes of Mundane Daily Lives of The UnSeelie Court’s Royal Family trying to survive after a comet hit the moon and turned the Earth into a CyberPunk Ice-Age. 🌸🦄🌸

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