DEATH IS ETERNAL #403
2,700 words
After a few weeks, I’m not beginning this DEATH IS ETERNAL on Monday. I’m actually starting on Tuesday (May 28, 2024) because I decided to change my routine a bit, and used yesterday to finalize V1 of HARVEY TURPIN, PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR, IN “THE TWIST OF FATE”—to be published on September 15, 2024. I’ll take a few days away from the story before beginning V2 and V3—the one you’ll read—it’s still a few weeks in the future because I still have to workshop it. Anyway, all this is to say that I can be malleable. Sort of.
Contents
THE UNYIELDING KNIGHT
Writing: buffer
Bye! Oh, wait!
Life (from May 27 to June 9, 2024)
Review #279: INDIANA JONES AND THE DIAL OF DESTINY
The end
1. THE UNYIELDING KNIGHT
The end
Bors the Younger staggered into the room, each step a testament to the titanic battle he had just survived. The door, a massive slab of ancient oak, loomed before him, a final guardian. For a dragonslayer, what was a door? Yet, as he pushed it open, the last reserves of his strength ebbed away. Magick, ever capricious and voracious, clung to its host only so long as it served its purpose. Sensing his imminent collapse, it fled his body in a whisper of shimmering light, abandoning him in his moment of triumph.
He crumpled to the cold stone floor, his breath ragged, his vision blurring. The magick had sustained him through unimaginable trials, but now, he was left bereft, a vessel emptied. He knew this abandonment was inevitable. What mattered was the mountain lay conquered, its treasures claimed. Bors allowed his eyes to drift shut, a faint smile playing on his lips. In his mind, he saw the dragon’s lifeless body, the hoard glittering in the dim light. Satisfaction washed over him. He had won. He had fulfilled his quest. As his breathing slowed, he embraced the final rest, never to awaken again.
Before
Bors the Younger clung to the jagged rock, his fingers raw and bloodied, each breath a searing agony in his lungs. The climb had sapped him and left him a bleeding and sweating shell, yet the door was within reach—his last obstacle. The wood was solid and ancient, and it radiated an almost palpable resistance. He laid his trembling hand against it, feeling the resonance of the magick woven into its fibres. This journey had been one relentless ordeal after another, a fact that now brought a bitter smile to his cracked lips.
Using the blood from his chest, he painted runes upon the door, each stroke a sacrifice, each symbol a plea. The incantations fell from his lips in a hoarse whisper, their power pulling at the very core of his being. Minutes stretched into an eternity, each syllable dragging him closer to the brink of unconsciousness. Magick, ever the fickle ally, hovered in indecision, weighing the worth of this moment. Should it aid, bolster, or abandon him to his fate?
Bors’s will surged, a fierce light in the dim gloom. He poured his essence into the final words of the spell, and the magick, swayed by his indomitable spirit, yielded. The door creaked open, a reluctant guardian bested by sheer force of will.
Before
Bors, his body a tapestry of blood and sweat, felt the crushing weight of exhaustion pressing down on him. Each breath was a battle, each step a monumental effort. Yet, just beyond the door lay the culmination of his life’s quest. Yielding was not an option. He summoned a strength he didn’t know he possessed, dragging himself upright. Each step became a stride, each stride a sprint, until the earth no longer bound him. He soared, magick coursing through him, guiding his every move.
With his sword alight with arcane power, Bors charged. The dragon, taken aback by this unexpected onslaught, recoiled. Its once impervious hide now vulnerable, it felt the keen edge of Bors’s blade pierce its wing and sink into its heart. The beast, ancient and powerful, faltered its final roar, a whisper of disbelief as life ebbed from its colossal frame. The dragon’s eyes dimmed, a last unspoken word lost in the void.
Before
His armour lay in tatters, blood seeping from deep gashes across his chest, face, and thighs. The dragon’s monstrous and merciless claws had nearly torn him apart. Yet, despite the grievous wounds, Bors stood defiant. The dragon’s maw curled into a smile, a rare gesture from a creature without known true challenge in centuries.
“Yield, and I shall be merciless,” the dragon’s voice rumbled, echoing through Bors’s mind.
Before
With a desperate incantation, Bors pressed a glowing rune into his palm, feeling the surge of magick propel him forward. His feet barely touched the ground as he flew towards the dragon. The ancient and wise beast faltered momentarily, its instincts struggling to match the ferocity of this unexpected assault.
Bors aimed for the dragon’s heart, but the beast’s wings snapped shut with a speed that defied its massive size. One moment, Bors tasted victory; the next, the dragon’s brute force slammed him, sent spiralling through the air. His magick flickered, nearly extinguished, but his armour absorbed the brunt of the impact, saving his life by a thread.
Before
Hours passed, and the summit drew closer, each step heavier than the last. A solitary door awaited at the peak—the final, formidable barrier. Bors paused the weight of his quest pressing down on him. He inhaled deeply, the cold mountain air filling his lungs, steeling himself for what lay beyond. The final challenge awaited, and Bors the Younger stepped forward into the unknown with a determined heart.
Before
With unwavering resolve, he faced the trials. Arrows sliced through the air, but he deflected them with a flick of his wrist. Water surged to drown him, but he walked through it unscathed, his lungs filled with air conjured from magick. Illusions tried to deceive him, but his mind pierced through their deceit. Spells shattered against his will, and locks crumbled at his touch. Each ancient trick crumpled before his mastery, showcasing why he was the greatest magick user.
Before
The mountain loomed a jagged silhouette against the sky, its treacherous paths whispering ancient warnings. Bors felt the pulse of his magick thrumming in his veins, affirming the peril ahead. But he needed no such reminder; this journey had been his life’s pursuit. He knew every shadow, every hidden snare.
Before
“I will conquer it one day! That, I swear to you!” Bors declared, his young voice fierce with determination. His eyes blazed with a fire that spoke of a promise meant to be kept, even as the years stretched on and friends’ faces faded from memory.
Before
“No one can defeat the mountain. Many tried. All failed,” one of the boys said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I heard my pa talking with his friends. They said only a fool would seek its treasure. It’s guarded by magick and dragons. No one can conquer it. No one. Not even you, Bors.”
The words were a deliberate jab. Though not the strongest, Bors possessed a bravery that set him apart. His friends knew that whenever someone claimed he couldn’t do something, Bors would face the challenge head-on, if only to prove his courage.
The beginning
2. Writing: buffer
I’ll be candid; today’s discussion should rightfully be labelled READING: BUFFER instead of WRITING, given I’ll delve into my reading habits instead of my writing ones. But in the spirit of consistency and perhaps a hint of stubbornness, I’ve opted to maintain the original title to align with my established branding.
What exactly do I mean by needing a buffer? Simply put, after finishing a book, I can’t immediately transition to a new one. There’s a strange interval that I require—typically at least a day—before I can immerse myself in a fresh narrative. It’s a pattern that persists regardless of how eager I am to explore a new story.
This tendency is particularly pronounced when I’ve just completed a book that profoundly resonates with me. Recently, after finishing FLOWERS FOR ALGERNON by Daniel Keyes, a profoundly affecting read, I attempted to delve into GREEN ARROW: QUIVER by Kevin Smith, Phil Hester, Ande Parks, and others. However, I found myself unable to concentrate, unable to appreciate the storyline, and ultimately unable to engage with the text. Inevitably, I had to abandon the attempt.
You might wonder why I persist in trying to start a new read immediately despite knowing the frustration it often entails. The answer is: Upon completing a captivating read, my mind is ablaze with anticipation. I yearn for more, craving immersion in another compelling narrative, eager to explore new worlds and ideas. Simply put, I try to read because I need to read.
Interestingly, this need for a buffer doesn’t seem to apply to comics, and I’ve often pondered the reasons behind this discrepancy. Perhaps it’s because comics are typically shorter, allowing for a quicker turnover between reads. Moreover, the episodic nature of comics, with their monthly issues and constant rotation of titles, may condition me to transition from one comic to the next without pause seamlessly.
Nevertheless, the question remains: do you share this “problem” of needing a buffer between books, or are you able to seamlessly transition from one read to the next without hesitation? Personally, I’d find solace in knowing that I’m not alone in this peculiar quirk of mine. Knowing that others might also experience this transition struggle would be comforting.
As a final note, I must confess that this buffer requirement doesn’t apply to sequels. When diving into a sequel, I can seamlessly continue the journey without any need for a buffer. After all, it’s a familiar universe with the same author, characters, and themes, providing a sense of continuity that bypasses the need for transition.
3. Bye! Oh, wait!
Here’s where we say our farewell to the free subscribers... Oh, wait! Not this week. This week, everyone can read until the end. If you’re a paying subscriber, you know what to expect. If you aren’t, you should seriously consider becoming one!
4. Life (from May 27 to June 9, 2024)
A few things happened this week. So bear with me.
First, as I mentioned last week, Trufa had surgery (May 29, 2024) to remove a couple of teeth. Everything went well, and she’s already back to her former self, Although we’re still shredding her food to avoid any discomfort—not her discomfort (because, as I said, she’s already back to her former self), but ours (i.e., damaging the stitches by eating too fast). It’s fascinating how much more quickly dogs recover from surgery than humans. When I removed my wisdom teeth (the four all at once, mind you), I couldn’t eat solid food for almost a month. Trufa, after surgery, was already back to her kibble. Oh, how I wish I were a dog!
Other than that, Real Madrid won its 15th UEFA Champions League on Saturday (June 1st, 2024)! The Spanish team has more than twice as many titles as the second place (Milan, 7), and the future looks promising for the club. The game itself wasn’t all that great, especially because Borussia Dortmund was better in the first half, and with a bit more quality, they could’ve won the half one-nill, or even two-nill. But Don Carlo Ancelotti did his magic in the half-time break, and Madrid dominated the second half, winning two-nill. It’s worth mentioning how poetic the goals were. In the first goal, Carvajal scored a header on assistance from Toni Kroos, and in the second, Vini Jr. scored after a pass from Bellingham. Past and future dominating the game.
Speaking on Toni Kroos, I can’t see a better fit for his last club match (he’ll retire after this season) than lifting the most sought-after trophy in Europe. A trophy he lifted a record-tying six times. What a career, what a player! I’ll miss the German!
After the game, Jessica and I went to the movies to watch FURIOSA: A MAD MAX SAGA, and, well, I’ll speak more about it in a future review, but as a preview: We found the movie to be “meh,” unfortunately.
That’s it for the past week.
Regarding next week...
My calendar is pretty...
Oh, I just remembered. I received a rejection from THE LUPINE REVIEW. It’s sad and unideal, but I knew it was a long shot of being selected because one of the topics in the guideline was “having a connection to the Sea-to-Sky corridor,” which I don’t have. As I said, sad and unideal but expected. The good news for you, dear reader, is that now I can share the story with you. If not in DEATH IS ETERNAL #404, then in #405.
(Back to next week.)
My calendar is pretty open. The only thing I have in it is the ITALIAN DAY ON THE DRIVE, an event I strangely never went to but will probably enjoy when I go. Is this the year I’ll go? Probably. But also, I don’t know. I may wake up feeling lazy and not finding the will to go from Abbotsford to Vancouver. But let’s see. If I go, I’ll let you know. And if I don’t go... well, I’ll let you know.
A quiet week ahead, just the way I like it!
(Oh, wow, I don’t remember the last time I wrote a section with so many links).
5. Review #279
INDIANA JONES AND THE DIAL OF DESTINY
Watching INDIANA JONES AND THE DIAL OF DESTINY in the unique setting of a long-haul flight from Brazil to Canada added an intriguing layer to my viewing experience, especially considering the onset of fatigue during the latter part of the journey and the small screen. These distinctive circumstances undoubtedly coloured my perception of the film.
Now, onto rankings. In my personal hierarchy within the INDIANA JONES franchise, THE DIAL OF DESTINY secures a respectable third place, trailing behind the iconic THE LAST CRUSADE and the timeless classic RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK. While I acknowledge that this ranking may raise eyebrows, particularly given the unconventional circumstances of my viewing, I found myself unable to recapture the same level of enjoyment experienced with its predecessor. At the same time, it entertained me enough to make me forget I was on a modern-day plane with all its lack of comfort.
Yet, despite this detour, the movie merits discussion. It presents itself as a competent action-adventure film, though it falls short of the high bar set by its predecessors in the saga. While not without its merits, notably the standout performances of Phoebe Waller-Bridge and Mads Mikkelsen in their supporting roles, it lacks the spark that propelled its predecessors to greatness. Nevertheless, it manages to hold its own within the franchise, offering a satisfactory conclusion to the iconic character’s journey.
One aspect deserving commendation in INDIANA JONES AND THE DIAL OF DESTINY is its recognition of the franchise’s imperative for closure. From the opening lines to the closing scenes, from the director’s vision to the actors’ portrayals, there’s a palpable sense of unity in delivering a fitting finale to the character’s storied adventures. While THE LAST CRUSADE has executed this task with more finesse, the constraints of Harrison Ford’s age necessitated a different approach, which, while not reaching the same heights, avoids descending into disappointment.
6. The end
I already blew my 2,500-word goal, and thanks to the last phrase in the LIFE section, I also blew my extended goal (2,600 words.) So now, it’s time for my third goal, which, if you are any good at observing the world and/or have been following me for a while, already know which it is. Should I speak out loud, or should I leave you guessing? I think I’ll keep you guessing—like a twisted form of “show-don’t-tell” or something like that. Or would you prefer for me to speak clearly? See you next week, bye!