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Writer's pictureA. R. Markov

Pankosmio Ktírio




Three children played in the sand box. Like most sand boxes, it was small, and worn out, and slightly dirty, as sand is wont to be. But the day was cool, the cosmos was young, and the children were determined. For they were on a mission.


Together, they were building a great city, the capital of an even larger kingdom. Together, they were plotting out its streets, its markets and houses, its walls and towers. And all the monsters that surrounded it.


The girl was constructing the castle, that bastion of order that governed the land. She made the walls tall and thick, the towers stately and imposing. She did not neglect the barracks for the knights who would serve their lord and protect the realm. Above all else, she knew she must do these things, for if her brother had anything to say about it, her castle would fall.


That’s what the smaller boy was making. Monsters. Great dragons with enormous jaws, goblins and gnolls and all the beasts that haunt the forests and moors around the city. Off to the side, he was also making stranger beasts still, ones that he knew his siblings would not approve of in the slightest.


Of course, the two knew that both of their jobs were necessary to preserve the order of the world. Each one needed the other. Without anything to defend against, there was no need for the high castle walls. And without any castle walls, there was no need for the monsters at all. That didn’t stop the two of them from eyeing each other suspiciously, wondering which of them would attempt to break the balance first.


The older boy seemed largely oblivious to the two of them. He was busy making the dwellings outside the walls, notating in a little notebook who lived in each one and what their names and wants and hopes and dreams were. He hummed quietly to himself, content with all his little stories, knowing that despite the great battles waged behind him, his little houses and people were the most important part. After all, what was the point of castles and monsters if there was nothing worth fighting for?


Occasionally, his attention had to be drawn back, however, as the two of them would begin to bicker.


“You can’t do that!” the younger boy said. “It’s no fair if the knights get magic weapons.”


“Well, you’re the one who made the dragons’ scales impenetrable by normal steel,” the girl shot back. “I had to improvise.”


“But now my dragons don’t stand a chance! They’ll be cut down where they stand!”


“Your dragons can fly! The knights are already at a disadvantage. Just be glad I didn’t give them winged shoes.”


 The younger boy frowned comically, and turned back to his sand pile.


“What are you doing?” the girl asked a few minutes later, when she glanced over to see more and more piles of sand.


He turned to her with a large grin on his face. “I’m making wizards.”


“What happened to the dragons?”


“Oh the dragons are still here,” he said. “But now they have wizards to protect them from your enchanted weapons.”


“You can’t do that!”


“Says who?”


“Says me. Mom put me in charge, so that means you have to do what I say.”


“Nuh-uh.”


The older boy sighed. He was tired of listening to them bicker. “What’s going on here?” he asked.


“He keeps making his monsters too strong!”


“Well, she keeps making it so they die!”


He glanced between the two, irritated. They were interrupting his work. How many times did he have to explain this to them? “I don’t know why you’re arguing,” he said. “Isn’t that the entire point of the kingdom? That when one side gets stronger, the other does as well? Just when the brave knights think they’ve got the edge, the wizards come in to protect the dragons. But maybe a small band of brave heroes take out the wizards, but then—”


“But I’m sick of it!” the boy said. “What if I want the monsters to win?”


“And what if I want them to go away and leave my castle in peace,” the girl muttered.


“I’m afraid that isn’t how this game works,” the older boy shook his head. “As long as this sand box exists, the forces of chaos and order will be in endless conflict. That’s what makes it exciting.”


“Well then why aren’t you joining us?” the younger boy whipped around to confront him. “Why are you sitting in the corner with your stupid little houses?”


“I hate to admit it, but he’s right,” the girl said. “This entire battle of order and chaos is getting boring. We need something else to make it interesting again.”

The older boy turned back to his little houses. “Oh, don’t you worry about that,” he grinned. “I’m almost done. Once the heroes are ready to join the fray, that’s when I think this plot will truly get very interesting.”


And so the two small children waited, glaring at each other from across the sandbox, neither daring to attack the other just yet. They were waiting until the older boy was ready, to see just what he would do. He just simply smiled to himself. Ultimately, their little feud didn’t matter. It was all just a backdrop to the story he was getting ready to tell. It wasn’t one he’d come up with himself, but he would help tell it all the same. Just as he always did. Just as he was right now.


And so, as the sun rose high in the sky above the sandbox, he turned to the others, took in a deep breath, and began his tale.

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