Child of Stone & Other Stories

By T.D. Coltraine

In a world separate from our own, life carries on much like the one we know. But here, magic and amazing technology run free, while myth and legend are not always works of fiction. It is a fantastic place and yet danger is never more than a heartbeat away.

Young Un, son of Ur, struggles to find his place in a world that is so much larger than he can comprehend, setting out on a journey which will change not just himself but the lives of infinite others...

His sister Neva, who accompanies Un outside of their tiny village only to discover that she too has a destiny which will shape her future as a champion and an icon of endless war...

Crete Urson, a legendary creature out of time and far from home, fighting against his own doubts and fears in a place that is wholly alien to him. The surrogate family that forms around him may be the key to everything...

Beasts and demons, ghosts and techno-wizards, all come into play as Un and Crete explore a world that seems to have no limits.

Also featuring three short stories centered around other times and places in the Stone Universe.

• Language: English
• Publisher: T.D. Coltraine
• Release date: Jul 13, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301788897

T.D. Coltraine

T.D. Coltraine is a writer of fiction, racing through genres like a wildfire races through dry foliage. Despite twenty years of effort he has only produced a dozen or so short pieces, all of which can be found here.

Book preview

Child of Stone

and Other Stories

by T.D. Coltraine

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2013 T.D. Coltraine

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents

Introduction

First: Child of Stone

And The Sun Rose Upon Their Souls, a brief introduction

Tales of Early Days

Tales of Modern Times

The Early Bird

The Icon

A Cough and a Broken Promise

Blue Skies Revisited

Chasing Rabbits

Visitor’s Pass

Roll the Bones

Epilogue

Second: Other Tales of Stone

Hammerstroke – a story of Neva Ursdottir, the Champion

Finding the Perfect Spotter – a story of Bullgod’s Gym

A Moment of Your Time, Please – a story of the Pandemonium Institute

About the Author

Introduction

Good day, reader, and thank you for picking up a copy of Child of Stone and Other Stories. It’s been a labor of love and hate for more than half a decade to bring it to you and I’m thankful that it’s caught your interest enough to put your hard-earned electronic dollars on the table in exchange.

The primary story, Child of Stone, started some years ago as something distinctly different than it wound up being. I don’t even remember exactly what Un’s adventures were supposed to be. But it evolved from the 2005 version (which was somewhat naughtier, heh) into a mish-mash of fantasy, action, time travel, and perhaps a little horror and comedy. The others are things I used to expand on characters and key locations about the world of Stone. It’s a world with nearly infinite options, where dimensions cross, creatures come out of the ether, and the idea of time is something that’s just a suggestion more than a rule.

Perhaps we’ll return to the world Stone in the future. It’s one that’s become much more realized as time’s passed. And there are always a few more options to dig into and things to explore. I hope you like it as much as I have, and I hope there aren’t too many questions in your head about how the whole thing works.

If you wanted to read things in some sort of official order: Child of Stone comes first. Spotter takes place after Stone, Hammerstroke is set between Early Days and Modern Times, and Moment of your Time sits on its own.

Thanks to Greg for refusing to let this thing die; WK, who just refuses to leave me alone and suffering from my own screw-ups; Bosh, who knows full well what she’s done; and anyone else who’s offered positive feedback, bits of wisdom, or perhaps just told me to get on with it already.

(For those who might be interested, there is another related story that’s not included here; Differential Equations can be found in the adult furry anthology Fang Volume 4 from Furplanet Press at furplanet.com. This is the very first story to feature Crete as well as Ricky/Hephaestus and Delphi, though the gym isn’t really the focus.)

Child of Stone

And The Sun Rose Upon Their Souls

In the first moments of the universe the Powers were placed, standing in a circle about the core of reality, staring into the blank void that had been given to them. It contained naught but emptiness, devoid of life or even thought. The Powers knew not how they came to be here or why, nor could they recall what they had been or done before their new place at the Core. Their numbers were seemingly infinite, matching the endless boundaries of the universe itself.

Each Power was granted a portion of the Core as their own. Each was equal, and no dominion could be stolen away by any other. They could not be disturbed or destroyed; each 'reality' was a permanent fixation upon the Core. Into each reality, a Power could do what they so desired, limitless potential and endless possibility. Some chose to simply turn and walk away from the godlike power and equal responsibility, disappearing into the blackness of the void to never be seen again. Others set to work, creating what they in their hearts desired to see. Dreams became worlds and peoples appeared upon them, manipulated by the ethereal fingers of those who they came to call gods. Powers were shared and realities merged together as the whims struck; the Core was as clay in the hands of supernatural sculptors.

As millennia passed, these simple worlds became universes unto themselves, races falling away and new ones rising up from their ashes, a never-ending circle of rebirth. The Powers found that in removing their influence from the races, the results grew ever so much more interesting, the peoples developing through their own cleverness and guile or falling into extinction through the cruel twists of fate. Some Powers became bored with their own creations and wholly destroyed them or perhaps walked away to be entertained by another's universe, leaving their worlds to whatever may befall them. The endless arrangement of Powers slimmed until barely a hundred exercised dominion over their worlds. Our own, fair reader, is one of those forgotten worlds, left to read stories of glorious realities where the incredible hangs with easy reach and 'impossible' is a word left for others to speak.

One of those worlds is the Plane of Infinite Potential. Seven Powers stand at their stations in The Core, each watching over their peoples and their worlds. Built of over a thousand other realities, the Plane brings together innumerable ideas and creations into a single universe, interlinked through any number of fantastic portals and passageways. It is the most fantastic of all realities in the Core, populated by any sort of preternatural being the mind can create.

Three females, three males, and one being of neither gender gaze upon the Plane of Infinite Potential. The monkey-man Galbirt lays claim to the humans, while his counterpart Napizar spreads her infinite wings of peace and prosperity upon the beast-men. The simple mind of Nor reflects the basic nature of his children, the feral creatures of the worlds; his sister Davifine spreads her beauty to the far reaches by bestowing upon them the wonder of flora. Powers Nesbit and Maxima represent no people, but instead the powers of technology and magic, influencing the others' progeny and their advancement. And lastly stands the Power known only as The Mouse, who watches without comment over the others, his bead-like eyes never blinking, his small form never visible unless he so wishes it. What he brings upon the Plane the others cannot claim to know even in their omnipotence.

And upon this Plane live the Guardians and the Children of Stone. It is where our stories shall take place, amongst the fantastic possibilities that live hand-in-hand with the mundane and the ordinary.

Tales of Early Days

It was a time long before the man-animal would declare himself king and the feral beasts would lay themselves prostrate before him, a time and place when the scales of nature balanced differently than today. In the dawning days, ‘enlightened’ beings had been raised from their brethren to spend uncountable days and nights cowering against the stone walls of their caves, frightened of every sound that rang out through the churning skies above their shaggy heads.

Only the stubborn refusal to go quietly into the darkness kept these early creatures from their demise. Even as they began to develop the foundation of civilization, those who came before were their betters in near every way, being stronger, faster, and perhaps even smarter than the so-called ‘enlightened’ ones. The man-animals lived for millennia in subjugation to nature. Celestial beings looked on in lament; they were bound to not disturb the natural flow of events, instead clinging to the faint hope that time would bring change…

It was in the seventy-seventh generation when the seventh child was born to the cropsman Ur. The child named Un was small, frail of limb and short of stature, standing in stark contrast to his father and siblings. The rigors of tending their land for survival had bred men and women of strength and stamina, much like the bull-men of present day. Ur held away any disappointment of the boy Un; while he lacked the words to say so he was proud of all his children, no matter how it pained him to see Un struggle to force his stunted body to work alongside his family in the fields. Un would spend his days watching his family strain to feed their small village while he stood by idly, not unwilling to help but unable.

Father? Un spoke to Ur after a summer’s day at the crops, again trying with all his might to help only to be forced aside by his weak heart and weaker body. The patriarch was exhausted, breathing through flared nostrils as he emptied the contents of a waterskin in one long draw. It was all Un could do to keep up with his father’s broad strides.

Yes, Un? They spoke far less often than either would have preferred. Un was rarely to be found in the fields and Ur spent his entire day there leaving them often separated; when the family came together to eat as the sun slipped below the line of the mountains far to the east Ur’s attention was in high demand and short supply. The streaks of grey in his chest and beard gave him a striped appearance, shaking his head to throw the lingering bits of water away.

Is it true that Gart is leaving? Gart was the eldest of the males who still lived at the family home and the time had arrived when many left to begin their own families. One of Un’s sisters had left a few seasons ago with a male from a family of metal smiths for a distant village which was said to be the largest that had ever been built, with buildings of stone that rose towards the heavens and walls of iron to protect against attacks by both beasts and bandits. The village Ur and family called home was nestled in the rolling hills far from any road or travelers from this so-called civilization; she was not likely to ever return.

Ur stared towards the horizon for the longest time. Un was unsure his father had heard the question, and began to ask again, interrupted by the simple response. Yes. It is time. If Ur felt emotional about his child leaving his face revealed absolutely nothing, expression as stoic as ever under horns that bent and twisted skyward. He has found a good partner. They will be happy, he said as he sat on the earth in the shade of their home.

But Father, if Gart is to go that leaves only you, me, and Ji to tend the plants. The tinge of fear in Un’s voice was unmistakable.

Ur looked at Un without needing to look up even from a sitting position as the boy barely stood half his father’s height even in his fifteenth year. Ji and I shall tend to the melons and grain. The implication was there, even if the words weren’t used.

Un did not dare to challenge his father on the matter; the boy had long ago accepted that despite his best efforts, his attempts at helping with harvest and planting often did far more harm than good. Is it enough, Father? The winter is coming quickly, and only four hands will make harvest slow.

Ur did not look away. We will make do. The mountain of muscle pulled himself to his hooves and looked to the fields. Or we will not. With that, the Father of Un stepped through the entry into the one-roomed structure, preparing for the evening meal. Un himself stayed outside for a time and watched the lesser creatures move about the fields as the winds blew stalks of grain about in slow waves. His father was old now, the astonishing energy worn away. Ji was as mighty a man as his father had ever been, but two mighty men doing the work that was best intended for an entire family would be a difficult task indeed. Un was frightened, not merely of the oncoming season but of the future of his family and the village. His inability to do more than think left his mind distracted and it was not until prolonged urging by his mother that he came inside.

Gart left with his mate before the fall ended, leaving the family smaller by one but no less proud or mighty. The woman was an undeniable beauty and the daughter of a prospector from the mountain towns. In the last season he had chanced upon a vein of precious metals, guaranteeing his future prosperity. The City called to them, Gart said, and the pair would leave for its walls as Ine had done before him. Gathered around their table were Ur, Un, Ji, and the last child of Ur, daughter Neva, with their mother Sar working to prepare more for the celebration.

You are a son of Ur, Ur had said between mouthfuls of food. Your place is the fields. You will grow fat and idle. He did not respect this City as much as his peers and children did, leery of its promised comforts—too good to be truth, he would insist.

I will not stop being the man you raised me to be, Father, Gart responded. A child of Ur, a child of the stones themselves, cannot stand by idle or we will burst at the seams from the strain! He laughed and finished off his drink, a potent fermented beverage that Gart’s mate had provided as a gift from her father. A demure creature, red of pelt and long of tail, she stayed back from the family around her and felt no small amount overwhelmed. But what she lacked in size the girl was quick-witted and agile, her fingers easily weaving through strands of grain or thread in a fashion beyond Un’s mother and her broad hands.

Ur stood up and held a stone mug out in front of him. I give my blessing to Mil, daughter of Vale. May only the best days find their ways into your lives, and may you be content and prosperous. A cheer rang through the room; even diminutive Un could join in with his family for once in his life, his enthusiasm drawn on his face thicker than any paint.

The seasons passed onward, the sun rising and setting with a predictable pattern. The only change in the Family of Ur was how many seasons they had seen together. Ur himself grew greyer with each day; what had began as spots or thin streaks spread through his pelt until he was mottled with the signs of age. His body began to betray him as well, arms growing thinner as his back hunched forward. But the stubborn spirit of the bull-man would never allow him to rest.

It was now the twenty-fifth year of Un’s life. Only he and Neva still remained at the home of Ur; Ji had chosen a mate but had not left the village, helping his father with the harvest as much as he was able despite the ender man’s constant protests. Neva had grown into a full woman herself, nearly reaching her father’s height and bearing a might as that of Ur in his prime. Many nights were spent astonishing other villagers with her effortless feats of strength. Sar lamented openly that such a woman as she would find locating a mate difficult but Neva would not concern herself with the pursuits of family and a partner.

Un however had not changed. His body was still a gathering of reeds bound to bony legs that barely seemed able to hold him upright. His mind churned as he watched his father continue to burn away the light of his life on the plants which barely provided sustenance to the family anymore. The boy silently cursed the plants themselves before cursing his own fate—to be a son of Ur, a child of stone, who could barely lift such a thing above his head was damnation enough for a million sins. What had he done to deserve a life spent sitting and watching the others work, grow, mate, live while he did nothing? It was agony unlike any other injury to feel so…useless.

Un? He felt the hand on his shoulder, looking up into the eyes of his mother. Sar had grown old as well, but while Ur grew physically weaker his mate’s mind had drifted into feebleness. She rarely spoke and when she did, her voice wavered and the words were difficult to find. Her bright eyes faded into blindness, leaving the former mother and provider of the family disoriented and confused. So much as he regretted the very thought Un wished for her end to come soon; he could scarcely bear to see her hobble about her home as a shade of her former self..

Yes, Mother?

You are so very angry. Why? Sar was taking advantage of a moment of lucidity to speak while the words and thoughts stayed in their proper order.

Un looked into the field. I am…I am a burden. I am cursed to be a weight upon my family until the gods come to reclaim my soul. My father toils even as death prepares for him. My sister, born a full ten years after me, works at the crops as a male would and I should be. Here I sit, watching as it is all I am able to do. His voice grew in volume but never passed beyond a dull roar from his tiny lungs.

Sar let him speak, not interrupting her son. Finally she answered. You have brought us joy in every moment of your life, Un. Is this not enough?

"No, mother, it is not."

Un’s mother’s face fell slightly, and she turned back towards the structure. Then I am sad that my love does not fulfill you, Un, son of Ur. May you find peace elsewhere. Un winced as the realization of what he had said and its meaning came to him. Neva’s shouts from the fields caught his ears and he raced towards her.

In the center of the crop, Ur, the father of the children of stone, lay still. Neva kneeled next to him and spoke, her eyes wide with tears as Un approached as fast as his hooves would allow him.

Father! Neva, what has happened?

Neva did not look up. I do not know! He was speaking to me then he fell over and…I… She looked at Un. Is he…? She could not finish the sentence nor could Un give her the answer as he leaned down, placing his stunted face inches from his father’s.

Un…my last son. The words were coughed and faint, the booming thunder lost as aged lungs worked their final gasps. I am being called. I must go.

Neva clutched Ur’s hand, holding it tightly enough to white her knuckles, sobbing openly now, tears streaking the fur of her cheeks. No father. You must stay with us! We need you!

Ur gave a weak laugh before coughing again, dots of crimson on his lips. You need nothing but yourselves. Children of…stone…break for no one.

With one last rattle of breath life left him. Un and Neva continued to stare at the still body as if enough tears and hope and begging could stop the gods from calling their father home to eternity. Even when the rains of summer came overhead and soaked the pair through they stayed with him. Other villagers would lead them back to the home, the sun long gone and a cloudless night in its place.

What will we do? Neva asked with a hint of panic in her voice. She was young and strong but would be expected to settle down in just a few seasons. Neither she nor Un knew anything of being a cropsman. Ji sat near Sar and did his best to console her as the old woman struggled to grasp the situation, tending to her chores without a word.

Ji spoke. I wish to help, but… The male looked frustrated. Lin and I have a family of our own and too many concerns to try and raise crops. He looked through the doorway towards the fields. I do not know what will happen now.

We will go to The City. Ji and Neva looked to Un, one confused and the other outraged. There is no reason to stay in the village any longer.

Are you suggesting we abandon father’s labor, Un? Just because you are unable to tend to so much as a melon does not mean we can simply walk away!

Neva fidgeted a bit, still disquieted from all the events of the day. They say The City is huge with buildings of stone and metal that stab the clouds. Those who go there do not return. It frightens me.

I do not see another choice. Neva alone cannot tend the farm and as you have said I cannot help nor can you. Un stood up, looking towards the south, where the road to The City had been laid. Whether or not either of you chose to travel, I am leaving when the sun rises.

Ji gestured wildly, exasperated. I certainly cannot go running off on a fool’s errand simply because you are overwhelmed by an urge to run away. If you leave you leave on your own, coward.

Sar spoke without looking away from her cleaning, words clear. Un, you cannot go alone. The trip is long and you are frail. Neva shall go with him.

But mother, that will leave you alone here.

The matron of the family of Ur turned and looked her children over, face an odd, soft smile. Ji shall take care of me. I have but a few seasons left before I am called home and I look forward to spending them with you and your mate. She drew up slightly, a bit of sternness returning to her voice. Do remember I am your mother, Ji, child of Ur and Sar.

It was decided then and there that Neva and Un would depart their childhood home for The City. It was a place they had heard described only in legends and whispers between old women and children. With no horse or carts the trip would take three days hard walk to the south with the risk of bandits and animal attacks hanging over their heads at every step of the way.

But as Un prepared himself for the journey during the long night, he had no fear. The opportunity to change his destiny weighed heavy in his mind; even as he slept the fantastic dreams of possibility played every moment until the morning sun rose over the fields, the last time the siblings would see them.

Ji continued to protest as much as he could until just before Un began his long walk. It was unsafe, it was unwise, or it was this or it was that. He might end up dead, Neva may be raped, and what was Un hoping to accomplish?

Un could not find it within himself to care as he bundled a supply of food to be carried along with them, making sure to provide enough for Neva’s much larger body. At the insistence of his brother the pair had been outfitted with clothing, something they had never dealt with before.

Why are we forced to cover ourselves with fabric, Ji? My pelt covers me far better and itches less than half as much as this cotton-cloth.

Walking about unclothed in the village may be acceptable but it is not in The City. They are far more civilized than we. Ji helped Neva into a great draping of cotton and leather that did more to draw attention to her bulk than hiding it at all. Un was struck again by how much she was his opposite physically, huge in all possible ways. He hoped he would be a suitable travelling companion; a few hours walking often left him winded. The bull could scarcely imagine what three days would do.

They would manage. There was no going back, and with a confidence he’d not known more than a few times in the past, the pair set off towards The City. Despite Neva’s suggestion, he refused to look back over his shoulder or wave good-bye to the remnants of his family.

Are you not saying farewell to your mother?

She is gone, Neva. Her body stands there but her mind only visits sometimes. Today is not one of those days.

The road began as little more than turned dirt laid in a line with rocks sometimes laid upon its sides as a marker. Calling it a road was a bit presumptuous; it was rather more a trail, leading south through untamed wilderness. The surface was uneven and more than once Neva was called upon to remove a fallen tree or rock so they could pass on. Without those minor inconveniences, the trip was rather a dull one and the pair spoke idly to pass time.

It really is quite lovely here, Neva said, gazing in curiosity at an insect that had landed on her arm.

Nature still reigns here. No one uses this trail unless they need to go to our village, and when was the last time a traveler arrived unexpectedly?

Neva nodded. The butterfly flicked open its wings and left her behind. I have never met anyone from outside the village. I wonder what they eat.

Un chuckled and stepped around a hole in the soil. I am sure we will find out. Hopefully they have food we enjoy as well.

Where will we be staying when we reach The City, Un?

The smaller bull looked up, confused. What do you mean?

We have left our home behind. We will need somewhere to sleep, will we not?

I am sure we will be provided a home, Neva. If The City is as large as they say, how could they not have homes for everyone? He smiled with infectious enthusiasm, making any doubts the larger traveler had melt away.

The first half day’s walk led them to the end of the trail, where the copse of trees suddenly dissolved into a man-made clearing where a more proper road stretched out into the distance in either direction. Un squinted against the sudden intrusion of sunlight, looking in both directions.

Un, there are so many people! I’ve never seen one like that! Neva pointed at a passing cart filled with a half-dozen bird folk, all fabulously colored and singing some sort of song. Un recognized neither the instruments nor the words being sung with thickly accented voices.

Both bulls were struck with awe as they stood at the roadside and watched the people pass by. There were few people in the village so to see a menagerie of races and creeds was a completely new experience. Neither knew what most of them were—that was one of the horse races like the smith in town, but they’d never seen a horn quite like his! Never had they watched as something flew overhead, gliding about on leathery wings, like a bird but at the same time not. The astonishment in their faces must have been palpable as more than a few heads turned their way. Many even appeared to be happy to be admired, like the family of odd tusked beasts who raised several gem-encrusted mugs and shouted something in a language neither bull understood. Others were less impressed by the pie-eyed staring; a slinking beast with a thickly-muscled tail in the place of any sort of legs seemed particularly perturbed, flashing fans and a queer forked tongue in their direction as he hissed out what Un presumed was a threat.

At least we will not walk alone, brother! Neva laughed loud and hard, walking into the road with her smaller sibling on one shoulder to allow his spindly legs to rest. He was not fond of being carried about but if it meant they made progress he would do his best to grin and bear it. Given the pace the travelers seemed to move at it was likely a better arrangement anyway—his short legs would have trouble keeping up and Un was in no mood to be trampled underfoot this afternoon.

Un’s ears flicked every direction as they moved to catch snippets of conversation. Much of it pointed towards Neva. Had they never seen a female her size and shape? With further consideration, he found that he had not either—while his mother was large and sister Ine was no runt, Neva was a rare find, a female of the Ur family with arms larger than the males but all the normal trappings of a woman’s body, wide of hip and ample of bosom. Un shifted his weight and went back to watching the various people—merchants, performers, soldiers and families, some in carts or on horses. He had a ‘cart’ of his own, smiling a softly as Neva strode down the cobblestones, making better time than some of the horses were.

Un? Neva looked up at him a bit, an arm around her brother’s waist to keep him stable on her shoulder. Do you understand anything anyone is saying?

Un blinked and concentrated for a second, face falling. Not a word. I certainly hope we can understand more as we get closer to The City.

What if we cannot? How can we survive if no one can talk to us?

Friend, what you need is a translator! The voice rose up from Neva’s feet, unpleasant and greasy. How about you stop for a second and we can talk, face-to-face and friend-to-friend. Whaddya say? Neva stepped gingerly around the pink thing that was looking up at Un with its tiny eyes like bits of coal behind glass lenses. The only hair Un could see flopped about in dirty mats on its head.

Neva looked back at Un. Should we? Un nodded and the three broke from the flow of carts to the side, sitting down on the grass while their ‘friend’ leaned on an ornate stick and smiled widely at them with yellowed teeth on display.

So you say you’re heading for The City, huh? He looked the siblings up and down and rubbed his chin with a gloved hand, the white fabric full of holes and stained in a variety of colors. Whoever this was he stank of old food and sweat, and his demeanor was odd to say the least. Un didn’t know what