Young Writers Society

Flashback

Being a bartender for a watering hole in Sanctum had its ups and downs. Today, though, was definitely one of those downs. Outside, the weather was superlative; the sun was shining for the first time in what seemed like ages and the temperatures felt comfortable enough to wear a short-sleeved tunic.

Unfortunately for Nate, it was of no consequence. Whether the sun shone or clouds smothered it with oppressive grey, he had to tend to the bar. Worse, the superlative weather meant he had no customers. So there he sat behind the bar, using a dirty dish rag to clean a spot from a tri-colored glass.

It was at times like these that his mind wandered to days gone past. A few days ago, he recalled a warrior who had walked into his bar; she had come from the Riverlands. He knew this because he had been there before.

The Riverlands were deceptive. As long as you kept your distance, they posed a magnificent sight: fertile and lush amidst a sea of blue crystal waters and green vegetation. But as you edged closer, it slowly morphed into something almost hellish.

On the edges were herds of horse-hippopotami; a fearsome animal if ever there was one. They gathered in dozens, and could take off at a gallop in a split-second. They were also fiercely territorial. If you walked within half-a-click of them, then you had written your own death sentence.

Once you past them, there were other animals to fear; most notably, the platypus-bears and the feline-crocodiles. The former had the body of a bear but the tail and head of a platypus. Indeed, they were amusing in appearance, but you wouldn't want to get close. The tail was heavy and broad enough to strike down a rhino-elephant with one fell swoop.

The feline-crocodiles, though, were fairly docile. In his youth, his neighbor had even trained one to act as a canoe in the canal behind their neighborhood. At night, the animal would sleep beside his neighbor's bed on pillows. Of course, out here in the wild, even docile animals could turn vicious at a moment's notice, and you would not want to be caught in the jaws of one.

However, despite the animals, he remembered it was not those that frightened him most. He had been prepared for that when he had tried to cross the Riverlands to get to the mythical City of Gold on the other side. What had frightened him the most and sent shivers down his spine was nothing more than a tattered sign, beaten by the wind and rain: "Abandon all hope ye who enter here."

No one got far past that sign.