As evening fell like a pixilated sock, the elderly couple did as they had done every night for many long years: he sat by the hearth, occasionally adding a piece of kindling to stoke the fire, then taking a drag from his pipe; she, in her rocking chair opposite, sewed a patch on a pair of his breeches.
Suddenly this unvarying domestic scene was interrupted by a loud banging on the door.
“Who in blazes could that be?” the old man exclaimed.
“Samuel, do you think it might be our dear nephew Bluth, free of his indentured servitude at last?”
Before they could speculate further, a large axe crashed through the planks of the door. Three more blows and the door was splinters.
Samuel and his wife leapt from their chairs. She defensively slipped behind her husband as a tall, brawny youth with long, blond hair strolled casually through the entrance he had made.
The visitor strapped the axe on his back and pulled a glittering sword from its sheath. His steely blue gaze swept over the modest contents of the cottage, then settled on Samuel.
“Can you tell me anything of the Hidden Path to the Secret City of Kradcak?”
“Who in Hades are you?” Samuel replied. “Why did you bust in our door?”
“I must find the City of Kradcak, there to face challenges innumerable and fulfill my quest. The more knowledge I can gain, the better prepared I will be.”
“Don’t know nothin’ about it,” Samuel spat. “Why would I? I am just a peasant and I have never been there! There are rumors, of course, common to all. Kradcak is a dangerous and evil city, lost for a reason, and always in darkness. There you are, sonny, you’ve tapped my sum total knowledge of Kradcak. Now you owe me for that door.”
The virile youth seemed to lose interest in the man and his wife then, and his eyes began to scan cunningly the sparse room. His gaze came to rest on a medium-sized urn in one corner.
“A-ha!” he yelped, and pranced across the room slicing his blade through the air. He brought it down in a whistling arc upon the urn.
Samuel and his wife flinched as the urn broke into pieces.
To their utter astonishment, a large, blue jewel popped up into the air from the shattered urn.
The young warrior grabbed it from the air and — they were not quite sure — it disappeared, as if he had either quickly pocketed it or swallowed it.
“Where did that come from?” Samuel asked his wife.
“I — I never saw it before,” she stammered.
The destructive guest, with a smug smile, turned to leave.
Shock kept the couple rooted by the hearth for only a moment. They shuffled through the hole in the door after him.
“Tarry just a moment, young ‘un,” Samuel shouted at the warrior’s broad back. “That jewel is ours!”
The blonde hero turned and regarded them with bewilderment.
“I found it,” he shrugged, then turned to go as if that settled the matter.
Samuel’s wife, Leah, who had been silently boiling, now erupted.
“You busted our door to pieces, broke our urn, and stole a gem that is rightfully ours! Just who do you think you are?”
“I am ZaZa, and I am on a quest to rescue the cherry-flavored princess from the clutches of the vile Tortosorcer. The jewels I find in urns power my sword, Lancelitebrite.”
After having said this, his attention was suddenly caught by a hedge growing at the edge of the lawn in front of the couple’s humble cottage.
A fire kindled in his narrowing eyes, and he redrew his sword.
“Ha!” he cried and began smiting the hedge as he had done the urn, showing the bushes as little mercy.
“My trimmed hedges!” Leah moaned, impotently clutching her fists.
ZaZa sliced left and right; leaves and branches flew, and the hedge was rendered completely helpless.
A large heart popped out of the decimated bushes and hovered in the air.
Then it was gone — as with the gem, Samuel and Leah were not sure if ZaZa had slipped it into some hidden compartment or he had simply swallowed it. It had appeared far too big for either maneuver.
“What was that?!” Samuel cried. “What dark sorcery do you possess to draw hearts from hedges?!”
“I must face many lethal foes along my journey’s road. Hearts hidden in bushes and tall grasses make me harder to kill.” His matter-of-fact tone seemed to suggest these were facts everyone must surely know. “Now, I must be off to the shrouded City of Kradcak, so I summon my faithful steed, Hoof Mouth.” He sheathed his sword, put his fingers to his lips, and whistled.
A large, tan horse trotted up the walk to the blasted hedge, and the young man who called himself ZaZa leapt onto its back with a cry of “Hoof Mouth, away!”
The horse proceeded to walk straight into a picket fence surrounding the couple’s yard. It bumped into the fence and stopped.
ZaZa muttered curses the couple could not quite make out, pulled on the reins, backed the horse a few paces, then spurred the horse into a great leap over the fence. He galloped away, chasing the last reddish tail of the setting sun.
The old man and the old woman watched his silhouette fade on the horizon.
Then Samuel turned to his wife. “Did you see that? With the horse? Smacking right into the fence?”
“Amateur,” the woman huffed. “He must be just learning to use it.”
As they shuffled back to their violated door, the woman shook her head. “If only we’d known that urn contained that gem! We might have bought poor Bluth out of indentured servitude.”
“I suppose I could search the tall grasses out back tomorrow,” the man muttered. “Maybe he missed one of those hearts. We could cook it for supper.”
Nicholas Ozment teaches English at Winona State University. His stories and poems continue to appear in numerous magazines, book anthologies, and online zines. He is a co-editor of Every Day Fiction’s sister publication, Every Day Poets.
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32 Responses to “PIXELATED PEASANTS • by Nicholas Ozment”
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April 6th, 2009 at 12:25 am
“…occasionally adding a piece of kindling to stoke the fire…”.
No. Kindling is used to start a fire, as (metaphorically) in “A fire kindled in his narrowing eyes…”. That’s not to say that you couldn’t use the same material, just that it isn’t kindling when you do, by definition.
April 6th, 2009 at 12:55 am
This is a hard one to comment on.
Once it was clear the piece was a parody, I was carried along by the Python-esque nature of the story. The over the top dialogue was especially humorous.
However, a few words and phrases grated. For example. since this was a fantasy world, why would Samuel ask, ‘Who in Hades are you?’
Anyhow, overall very amusing.
April 6th, 2009 at 3:01 am
Very funny. I especially liked the horse walking into the fence. I also liked the matter-of-fact way the old couple adjusted to the presence of power-ups in their world – very practical-minded, just like peasants would be.
April 6th, 2009 at 3:21 am
I loved the opening part of the first sentence:”as evening fell like a pixilated sock.” And continued to enjoy the story, barring the odd bumps, but the end disappointed me. I know its a fun piece (of parody), but it could have ended better.
April 6th, 2009 at 3:23 am
PS: Pixelated is spelt wrong in the story.
April 6th, 2009 at 6:08 am
Took me a sec to get what was going on, but after I was tuned in I thought it was decent. Who bothers to ponder upon the rights of those pour digital souls who your avatar-hero walks all over in his quest for gold, power-ups and easter eggs? Samuel and his wife should count themselves fortunate that they weren’t in a cut-scene where trolls and orcs massacre the village!
April 6th, 2009 at 6:16 am
Not bad, but I found the ending rather flat and lacking punch.
Oh, in the first paragraph, shouldn’t it be “sewING a patch on a pair of his breeches.”? To match “adding a piece of kindling” and “taking a drag from his pipe.”
April 6th, 2009 at 6:44 am
Huh?
April 6th, 2009 at 7:00 am
At first, except for the “pixilated sock” line (which I know recognize as a “heads up” clue, I thought this story was going to be a disappointment since the two peasant characters felt trite, but when I caught on and as a former adventurer in search of Zelda, I got a kick out of it. Using the cottage couple’s viewpoint is pretty funny. Thanks Nick.
April 6th, 2009 at 7:02 am
I know! I should proofread first thing in the morning.
“Know” should be “now.” I should have closed my parenthesis. And “viewpoint” should be plural. It’s hard to remember in a fit of enthusiasm that there are grammar cops out there!
April 6th, 2009 at 7:23 am
I thought this one was pretty fun.
April 6th, 2009 at 8:02 am
Unusually interesting story of the supernatural. It seems obvious that the intruder was wrong, but there seems another level of lack. The peasants would never have known about it without the intruder’s claim on the jewel and heart. Imagine having such unworldly power all around one, and when one sees it of being unable to think of nothing but how to slice it for supper. Should they have asked him to rescue their nephew in payment for the urn, door, and hedge, squaring the deal?
April 6th, 2009 at 8:57 am
Coincidentally funny, as I’ve been on a Legend of Zelda bender these days.
April 6th, 2009 at 9:37 am
Didn’t really do much for me, though I did like that the the knight’s sword was called Lancelitebrite and his horse was called Hoof and Mouth.
April 6th, 2009 at 10:33 am
Cute story. Poor little ancilliary video game characters!
April 6th, 2009 at 10:49 am
Sam: You are the perfect audience for this story, as it is a parody of such video games generally, and Legend of Zelda in particular.
I knew going in that, given the nature of the parody, it would not be completely accessible to everybody–but hey, if every story every day had to make complete sense to everyone, why even have categories? (The editors rightly listed this one as fantasy satire.) Think of the variety these occasional niche stories provide. They may not please all the readers that given day, but for those who recognize what is being parodied–who are “in on the joke”–they can be a special treat.
April 6th, 2009 at 10:50 am
Funny story. I got a huge grin as soon as ZaZa found the gem in the urn — after playing games like this, I guess I never saw things from the poor peasants perspectives. Oh how many houses I’ve ransacked. Cleverly wrought piece, and a fun read. Love the last line, but I do feel like I’m missing something with Bluth and the indentured servitude part of the story — nothing is really fleshed out from that plot point.
April 6th, 2009 at 11:10 am
Being an English instructor, I am obliged to address the stylistic, syntactic and grammatical criticisms:
Paul A. Freeman: “…since this was a fantasy world, why would Samuel ask, ‘Who in Hades are you?’”
With regard to Samuel’s reference to Hades, it is important to note this isn’t just a parody of fantasy but of video-game fantasy. Such anachronisms in a video game are sloppy; here they are deliberate.
Jim Hartley: “…shouldn’t it be ’sewING a patch on a pair of his breeches.’? To match ‘adding a piece of kindling’ and ‘taking a drag from his pipe.’”
No, because “sewed” is parallel with “sat” in “he sat by the hearth.”
rumjhum: “Pixelated is spelt wrong in the story.”
Pixilated is also a word, meaning eccentric, whimsical, or prankish.
P.M. Lawrence: “Kindling is used to start a fire…”
Touche’
April 6th, 2009 at 11:22 am
Thanks to everyone for taking the time to leave a comment, even if the joke was lost on you (and there is no shame in admitting that you have not squandered hours and days and weeks of your life entranced by such video games). I am heartened to see that maybe a third of you specifically recognized The Legend of Zelda, even though it was nowhere directly referenced (the original title for this piece was “The Legend of ZaZa: Quest for the Big Shiny Stone”).
The inspiration for this parody dates back to the many hours I spent playing Zelda and a couple similar fantasy games on the Nintendo 64. I have never upgraded beyond the 64, knowing full well that if I did, I’d get much less written.
April 6th, 2009 at 2:00 pm
The parody was clever–even I who never played Zelda understood the jewel popping out of the urn (lots of Mario Bros. in my son’s past.) Better to have ended it with the “Amateur…” line. The rest added nothing and the last line was just out of place.
April 6th, 2009 at 7:05 pm
LOVED IT. I finally got through Zelda and the Hourglass of whatever game for the second time. Thanks for this one!
April 7th, 2009 at 4:40 am
Great story. Although the 23rd might have been a better day to run it, being International Pixel-Stained Technopeasant Day.
April 7th, 2009 at 6:28 am
Oh, goody, a grammar Food Fight. I contend it should have been “he sat by the hearth, occasionally adding a piece of kindling to stoke the fire, then taking a drag from his pipe; she [SAT], in her rocking chair opposite, sewING a patch on a pair of his breeches.
Apparently I didn’t get some stuff because I never played Zelda. Well, it’s the Editors’ choice, but they rejected one of my stories because some people might not have watched the move “Mystic Pizza.” I guess the Editors do play Zelda but don’t watch movies! Just my luck.
April 7th, 2009 at 6:34 am
I hear you, Jim. I got rejected once because not enough people are familiar with Ray Bradbury. I guess that makes me old . . .
April 7th, 2009 at 6:48 am
I never heard of the game “The Legend of Zelda” until it’s mention in the EDF postings. I once knew a girl named Zelda in high school. She, like I, was interested in stories. I even remember her last name, but won’t mention it since I do not have her permission to do so. I tried to follow up on “Zelda” game information, but found on the internet only game sale offers. I am not interested in games. I am still interested in stories. Anyway, her boyfriend was very protective of her, cutting, as if by a scimitar, her path before and around her.
April 7th, 2009 at 7:41 am
Bob – Her boyfriend was interested in poetry.
April 7th, 2009 at 7:47 am
RSG – is post #26 directed to me? And if so, in response to what?
April 7th, 2009 at 8:00 am
Bob – (27)
Sorry. The comment (26) belongs in another posting. In my rush I dropped it here.
April 7th, 2009 at 8:44 pm
Thanks again for the new comments.
C.L.– I haven’t heard of International Pixel-Stained Technopeasant Day, but now I’ll have to look it up!
Jim–I’ll have to look into this further; perhaps I am guilty of faulty parallelism.
Bob–Never heard of Ray Bradbury?! He is one of the great living Grandmasters. I’m assigning his chilling story “There Will Come Soft Rains” to my classes next semester–a nice companion piece to Cormac McCarthy’s _The Road_.
April 7th, 2009 at 8:46 pm
Roberta–I would not like to have gotten between that girl and her boyfriend (unless I had some interesting poetry to spring on him).
April 8th, 2009 at 6:47 am
Nicholas – I would not come between that girl and her boyfriend for any reason, under any circumstance, whether I had interesting poetry or not. What is more, I would not allow an effort to arouse jealousy in me or in her to affect my friendship with the girl; that boy I knew only from across the room. I would allow any friendships with the girl, including mine, to take its normal course.
But this is not the place for such discussions.
April 17th, 2009 at 9:50 am