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Prologue

  Deep in the heart of a modest stretch of land known as St. Augustine, lies a suburban village that cradles serial procrastinators, caffeine-free lawyers, Scorpio-loving Geminis and other disasters waiting to happen. This village is quite peaceful because these personifications of future disasters are actually the most ideal residents. They gossip about no one, they segregate their garbage properly and they pay their bills and Netflix subscription on time ~ even the serial procrastinators.

  It is of greatest tragedy, however, that this story is not about these model citizens nor does it happen in that peaceful village. Rather, this narrative is set in the adjacent semi-rustic hamlet ~ separated from the village merely by a muddy creek, a mossy slope, and its settlers' fragile sense of superiority brought about by being on a slightly higher ground.

  At the entrance of the said hamlet, stands a solitary oak that has seen its fair share of hardships. Its wooden stem has suffered the assault of pointed rocks from the blonde boy who carves the name of every girl who dumps him on a tree. Its thick roots have endured the countless streams of pee from animals and people alike; triggering an existential crisis of plant kingdom proportions. Its verdant leaves has been fed to gluttonous pigs by *******, an uncultured swine so spiteful his name need not be mentioned in this story ever. And its majestic trunk has proven that lightning does strike the same place twice and though its bark has said goodbye, no angels cry ~ which is to say that it has successfully recovered after.

  The resilient oak has indeed faced a lot of adversity throughout its life, but it has persevered and towered among others to become the official guardian of the hamlet ~ a title which is no good for anything except for bragging rights, which is also equally useless for a plant...but that's not the point. Through sheer determination that far surpasses that of the power of friendship or true love, this tree remarkably manages to survive, its foliage growing lush with age and its branches remaining sturdy.

  It is on one of this sturdy branches that a legendary being presently perches, regally overlooking the terrain. Its dark reptilian eyes take in the surroundings with interest akin to a predator hunting for alien... or prey, whichever is available first.

  "Is this the place?" the creature asks, craning as much as its neck will allow ~ which in actuality, is not very far.

  "It is, my liege. One of the hobgoblins escaped here," a voice beside him replies, dripping with humility and reverence.

  "Very well," is its satisfied remark. "We shall hunt it down and make this land my territory."

  Hearing the imposing tone of its lord, the subordinate concurs eagerly, "As you wish, my liege!" Then more softly it stuttered,"...A-Are we going to carry out the plan by ourselves?"

  "We have a plan?" goes the anticlimactic comeback.

  "My apologies. I thought it is my liege's intention to hunt down the hobgoblin and claim this land, is it not?" the confused retainer asks, its complexion turning red in embarrassment.

  "Ah. That is my intention indeed," the mighty figure claims. "But I don't have a plan that will lead to such fruition yet. I'm leaving that for someone else to think about; I have vassals exactly for that purpose, you see," it clarifies.

  "Of course, of course. How foolish of me. May you forgive this lowly servant," the subordinate mumbles in apology then proceeds to grovel with all the sincerity of its ten limbs.

  "Rise. There is nothing to forgive," is the merciful reply. "I may have given you the wrong idea when I joined this reconnaissance with you. After all, it is not a job befitting a superior. But no matter, I am indeed adaptable, versatile and exceptional. Plus, to execute a task as noble as scouting, I do not mind a little sun," declares the mighty creature as it rests protected by the shade of the giant oak.

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  The gullible retainer agrees, its adoration for its liege reaching a new pedestal. It dutifully stands beside its lord and observes the land, noting anything that may be of value. Being accompanied with a rather lackadaisical superior, this tyro has failed to comprehend that a reconnaissance is actually more than just sightseeing. Even the oak that is an unwilling witness to the whole ordeal, knows of this and can't help but raise a metaphorical brow. But that is a problem that will be rectified much later. For now, this novice subordinate immerses itself in the blissful ignorance disguised as the noble feat known as scouting.

  However, great things aren't always meant to last. And given the short attention span and fastidiousness of its legendary companion, this great and noble feat lasts for only eight minutes.

  "Let us descend and head back to our stronghold," the mighty figure instructed. "This tree branch is too rough for my liking."

  The retainer hurriedly raises its pincers and establishes a telepathic connection, informing the other vassals of their upcoming return.

  "My liege, I have communicated with Nahua and she shall open the portal soon. As recompense for the delay, she has prepared an interesting gift for you," it states once the extrasensory call terminates.

  There really isn't any delay to speak of, as Nahua immediately prepares to open a portal upon demand. But being the biggest stan of the legendary creature, Nahua feels she must compensate for failing to predict the exact time the object of her devotion will need her services. But of course, this tiny tidbit is left out of the report.

  "And pray tell, what is this gift?" the said object of devotion asks intrigued.

  "This lowly creature is unfamiliar with it but Nahua called it 'Pit-sa with Pine-Ape Poll'. Do you know what it is, my liege?" the subordinate excitedly inquires.

  The superior one clicks its tongue, giving the impression that the question isn't even worth contemplating over. "Ah that... One can infer from its name the nature of a thing. How could I not know?"

  "As I have guessed, my liege is of unparalleled intellect!" the retainer exclaims, then meekly twists its appendages to make a request. "I implore you to kindly enlighten this curious one."

  "It is a very powerful weapon, one that is designed for ambush," said the creature without any hesitation, its ego leaving no room for doubt. "I must compliment Nahua, I am most pleased with her offering. She is very prudent indeed."

  After hearing the supposedly magnificent offering, the unsuspicious subordinate instinctively shares the delight of its lord. "No one else but you is deserving of such a gift, my liege. I wholeheartedly agree with Nahua's choice."

  "You do not even have a half heart to cohere with, Ceorfan," comes the flat retort.

  At the mention of its name, Ceorfan beams with so much ecstasy that even the transparent runes on its carapace glow, the deadpan teasing of its superior easily missed. When a telepathic signal comes again, its eyes maintain its merry twinkle.

  "Oh, I have just received a message. Nahua has opened a portal on the nearest creek. Hop on, my liege. Your regal feet must not touch the ground."

  The faithful retainer hastily corrects its posture and prepares to carry his liege ~ an honor that makes its pleon swell with pride. Then upon noticing something, it pauses. There are two ways to reach the creek: by crossing the bridge on the left or by trudging the slope on the right ~ and Ceorfan is now losing antennae trying to decide. It paces anxiously back and forth for forty two times, but the universe remains mum of the answer.

  In the end, the benevolent and conveniently perceptive lord, frees it from the dilemma. "Very well, let us tread on the left path. Remember to stay on the side lest these puny mortals accidentally step on us," it simply said.

  The legendary creature is not aware of the vagaries of the butterfly effect, and choosing the left route is a purely offhand decision on its part. From its perspective, the things of utmost significance are one: to get to the portal, and two: to watch out for the dangers of smelly toes and muddy shoes while they're on it. It does good to be mindful because they are, after all, invisible to the reckless mortals by default.

  Which is a good thing, really.

  Because if normal humans are capable of perceiving such a sight, they will be bewildered to see a dignified green lizard riding an awkward magenta crab as they skedaddle from a tree and cross the bridge; all the while running sideways in a singular race towards a waiting bubbling creek.

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