Word: Cunctation

cunctation

[ kuhngk-tey-shuhn ]

noun Archaic.

lateness; delay.

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               Jim threw opened the door and walked into the conference room. Those already in attendance were too annoyed by the man’s lateness to notice he was walking differently than normal. And even if they had, they would probably not have cared. Jim was disheveled and his suit looked like it had seen better days. But again, nobody cared. There was only one thing that really mattered to them.

               “You’re late.” Growled Mr. Hendrickson, the Chairman of the Board. “You were supposed to be here over an hour ago.”

               Jim flopped into the nearest chair. “Yeah, well, I’m here now.” He said.

               “You’d better have a damned good excuse, Mr. Willson.”

               Jim’s eye twitched. “An excuse? Oh no, I’ve got several. You want to hear them? You want to know why I’m late?” His voice rose just a little bit with each word he spoke. “Fine. I’ll tell you. I’ll tell all of you why I’m late. Let’s see, where do I begin. How about waking up? My alarm clock died during the night. Just up and quit working while I was asleep. Only reason I know that was because when I finally did wake up, it was displaying a whole lot of nothing.”

               “That’s it?” Mr. Hendrickson said. “That’s your excuse? You overslept because your clock didn’t wake you up?”

               “Oh no no no. That’s just the start. See, I only woke up about ten minutes late. Not terrible, right? If it was just that, I would’ve been here on time and ready. There’s so much more. See, when I noticed that my clock had died, I panicked. Didn’t know when I woke up, see? So I scrambled out of bed and my feet got tangled up in the sheets. I tripped and fell. Right into a side table.”

               A few members of the board winced, but nobody said anything else. Jim continued.

               “Of course, I couldn’t have hit it normally, oh no. That would’ve been too easy. I hit it on the corner, and this happened.”

               He rolled up his pant leg, revealing a bandage coated with blood. He lowered the garment, hiding the injury.

               “I don’t know how it opened up that much, but it did. I’m lucky I have plenty of bandages. But my long trip to work didn’t end there. Once I bandaged myself up, I got cleaned up as quick as I could, and ate quickly. That, in turn, nearly made me choke on a piece of cereal. Fortunately, it was only almost. I ran out to my car, and started pulling out. Which is when this happened.”

                 He pulled out his phone and showed the board a picture of a wrecked car. The entire rear of the vehicle had been caved in.

               “Idiot plowed right into me. I got lucky it was the back of the car. Well, obviously, I had to wait for the cops at that point. Took a bunch more pictures of the crash. Both cars, and making sure to show it was in front of my house. It’s a good thing too. See, the idiot who hit me was friends with the cops who showed up. Good friends. Apparently they get together and play cards or watch a game or something a lot. He hit me, and I end up with a ticket. Well, You can bet I spent way too long lodging a complaint against those two. We’ll see how it goes later. Once that’s done, I’m left without a car, so I have to take the bus.

               “It takes me awhile to hobble to the nearest bus stop. Guess what I see when I get there? The bus. Pulling away. I can’t exactly run on a wounded leg, so I don’t have much choice but to let it go. The next bus here is in two hours, so that’s out. It’s either walking, or calling a cab. And, well, bad leg, so cab it is.

               “I get what has to be the worst cab driver in history. He speeds, doesn’t slow down for turns, has no idea where he’s going, and curses enough to make a sailor blush. It should’ve taken fifteen minutes to drive here from where he picked me up. It took him half an hour. And I suspect that was on purpose to charge me more.

               “And then when I get here? I get stopped by security. I’ve got my badge, but they say I ‘look suspicious’, and get searched. I have no idea why. They just did. And I swear they took way longer than I had to.

               “And that, Mr. Hendrickson, is why I am late. Is there anything else you’d like to know?”

               Mr. Hendrickson was silent for a few seconds longer than he probably needed.

               “No, I think that’s sufficient. Let’s begin the meeting everyone, shall we?”

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Hopefully Jim here gets let out early, if only to go get himself checked out by medical professionals. That's something you should probably do right away.

Word: Neophyte

 

neophyte

[ nee-uh-fahyt ]

noun

1. a beginner or novice: He's a neophyte at chess.

2. Roman Catholic Church. a novice.

3. a person newly converted to a belief, as a heathen, heretic, or nonbeliever; proselyte.

4. Primitive Church. a person newly baptized.

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               King Derex of the Shadows sat on his throne, regarding the youth standing before him. The boy was no older than 15, and his inexperience showed. The boy held his sword like he had only started learning a week ago, and his magical energy was raw and unrefined.

               “Are you sure you want to do this, boy?” Derex said.

               “I…I am. I…it’s my duty as the hero to vanquish you.”

               Derex had to give the boy credit. He was braver than most of the other heroes that came before him. Although the boy was sweating and his arms were shaking, he still held the blade up, and his trembling feet did not move. Many others who claimed the title of hero fled long before they got to Derex’s throne room.

               “Really now?” Derex said. “You think you can do so as you are? Why, you can barely hold that sword of yours.”

               “It…it doesn’t matter. For the peace of the world, I have to fight. I have to win.”

               The boy shouted and charged. Derex signed and raised a half-hearted magical barrier. Against a properly trained hero it have about the effect of a few sheets of paper. But against this one it may as well have been an iron wall. The boy swung his sword over and over, each swing making it abundantly clear how little training he had received.

               Derex raised his hand to conjure a ball of destructive magic and kill the young hero. But he did not. A stray thought entered his mind as he watched. The boy was young and unrefined, but he was still a hero. All heroes had the potential for incredible power and skill, thanks to the reincarnating soul they shared. That soul also ensured there would always be a hero, since a new one would be born soon after the previous one died.

               Sure, it would give Derex a few years without having to worry about such interruptions, but it would inevitably return. But what if he did not kill this hero? What if he kept the boy alive? Oh keeping him in prison was out of the question. It would be a needless drain on resources, and heroes could be annoyingly resourceful when it came to prison breaks. But there was another option. One that would only work on a young, untrained hero.

               Any hero with proper training would be able to resist mental magic. But this one? It was perfect. He began casting the spell as the boy continued to strike uselessly on the barrier. The magic quickly finished and a cloud of shadow enveloped the young hero’s head. He stopped attacking and lowered his sword as his eyes clouded over.

               They snapped back into a focus a moment later and he looked around confused.

               “Where, where am I?” The boy asked. “Who are you? What’s going on? I…I can’t…I don’t remember…I…I don’t know…”

               Derex let his barrier fall and rose to the former hero, who was looking around himself quickly with eye quickly filling with fear.

               “It’s okay, lad. My name is Derex. I’m the king of these lands. And you are Selton, my apprentice in the art of sword and magic. You will be training under me in all things and become a champion of the people.”

               “I…I am? I will?” The boy asked. The name was something Derex made up then and there. But the rest of it was true. At least, it was now.

               “Indeed. It is understandable that you don’t remember anything though. Magic can be quite volatile if mishandled. Don’t worry, I will teach you to cast the spell properly in time.”

               “I…I see. I…I apologize for my failure.” The newly budded Selton said with a slight, and very confused, bow.

               “Think nothing of it. Now, let me take you to your room. You have much to learn, and much more to relearn, my young apprentice.” 

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You'd think when dealing with reincarnating heroes, more villains would want to capture them alive. But nope, it's always kill first, question later. Well, try and kill. It usually doesn't go super well for the villain.

Word: Terpsichorean

 

terpsichorean

[ turp-si-kuh-ree-uhn, turp-si-kawr-ee-uhn, -kohr- ]

adjective

pertaining to dancing.

(initial capital letter) of or relating to Terpsichore.

noun

a dancer.

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               The fog was unusually thick. So thick that Evan could barely see his own hands in front of his face. But, he knew the way. He had walked this way so many times that he could do it with his eyes closed. He was more worried about the moisture ruining his clothes. If that happened, he would probably get chewed out by his boss. Again.

               He sighed, breathing in the damp air. It was cool and oddly refreshing, but he still hoped it would start thinning out soon. Work was rough at the best of times and going into the office with damp clothes was bound to make it worse, even if his boss did not take note of it.

               A flash of movement caught his eye. When he looked, there was nothing there. Another flash in his peripherals. This time he was faster. He definitely saw something moving through the fog. He looked wildly around until he saw the source.

               It was a woman. At least, he thought it was. She was pure white and wore a dress to match. In fact, she looked like she was made of clouds instead of flesh. That thought was reinforced by the fact that she was dancing through the clouds in midair. She twisted and turned in an animated, joyous dance set to music that only she could hear.

               Her smile was infectious, and Evan felt the corner of his lips start to lift. It was something that had not happened in years. He had even begun to wonder if he remembered how to smile. Watching the cloud woman tumble, twist and turn through the air reminded him. Watching her made him feel light, as if the last few years had never happened.

               The woman turned to face him, and her smile grew even wider. She danced around him in elegant, airborne pirouettes. He almost felt like he could join her. All he had to do was take a step up, like walking up a set of stairs. His feet refused to do so, even if his spirit was willing.

               She stopped dancing in front of him and held out her hand. He stood there, considering what to do. Should he take the offered hand? Would he be able to? What would happen if he did? Did he care?

               He reached out and slowly took hold of her hand. It did not feel like he thought it would. He was worried he would pass right through her, like he did the fog. But she was just as solid as he was. It felt like it was coated with cool water, but it was solid. The woman laughed silently and resumed her dance.

               Evan was pulled along with her. His feet were no longer tethered to the ground as he fell into the rhythm of the silent dance. He began moving in time with her, feeling his body, mind and soul grow lighter with each passing second. He no longer cared what was happening to him, or what would happen if he did not return to the ground. He wanted to stay there. To keep dancing among the clouds with his new companion.

               The fog cloud moved with the wind, rising up into the sky until it was no more than another cloud. Nobody would even remember the person who rose up with it, dancing forever through the sky.

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I think I'm getting sick, so I've got nothing to say right now. Enjoy the story, I suppose.