A Continuation of a Fifty-thousand (approximately) Word (short) Story Originally on SO

This day, I cruised around the Scholars Online forums a bit before reading a thread for two to five hours. When I finished, I found that the last, say, hundred and fifty posts had been utilized only to create conversation between the post numbers. If you don't understand this right away, I'm not going to explain it to you. Anyway.

I wrote a continuation of the latest of the real story, and, if the SOers don't cooperate with it and continue with it, I might do it myself.

Here it is. I post it here because it's long, and it is, in my opinion, valuable to me.

Unnamed, so far Extremely Exellent story, Part 2 (supposing I call the original part 1...)

Good 'Ol Singsong whistled a tune and whittled a nuclear missile out of an elm trunk. It was pretty big.
Singsong put a large bolt on the outside of it. All of a sudden, Susie came whirling out of a swirling vortex of bright light. Singsong checked the time on his portable sundial.
"You're early," he said, adding a cool-looking logo to the side of the missile.
"A girl is never early. Nor is she late. She arrives precisely when she means to," said Susie, grabbing a diamond off the ground and sharpening her sword. Her sword spouted multi-colored sparks when rock met cold metal.While she worked, she murmured in a song-like voice a song that would seem like a lullaby, if it were. As it was, however, it was a magical tune that kind of made the sword less solid, allowing Susie to shape it into nearly any shape she wanted. She looked up. Singsong had paid little attention to her, but he had the distinct look of someone who was written to be expected to seem unreachable, much like Gandalf, say, or Elrond. Suddenly, he grinned at her and, from behind him came all her former companions, Walter, William, Bonnie, Ashely, Tux, and the rest.
It seemed too good to be true. As it was, though, it wasn't quite too good to be true. Just really close.
Susie's face kept still, hoping upon hope that her imagination had not decided to revile and fool her. She realized that she hadn't been breathing for roughly one minute and thirty-three seconds. She didn't realize that, actually, she just realized that she was feeling vaguely faint, and traced the source of that feeling to her lack of air.
She breathed, but it seemed that her body needed more air than usual. She tried to breath deeply and calmly, but her attempts to calm herself became, in themselves, panicked. She breathed quickly and panickedly. A smile would have broken out on her face, if she hadn't already been smiling at Singsong. Her face wasn't in the habit of breaking anyway, but...
Anyway.
She started sobbing.
And got up.
Then, she raced over to Walter, and, she was sure, crushed several of his ribs and sobbed gallons of tears on his shoulder.
At this time, any boy or man would love to be totally unfazed by this and comfort a lady, but Walter was really uncomparebly surprised.
"Oof," he said, coughing slightly and looking nervous. He really wasn't sure whether his ribs were broken or not, actually. His chest was in so much pain he wouldn't be able to tell if someone stabbed him with a red-hot sword.
Anyway, Walter eventually got over the shock of being cannonballed by a teenage girl, and hugged her.
Tux got out a hankerchief and handed it to Walter. He looked up.
"Thanks, old onion. You look good in white," he added, noticing Tux's elderly looks and white hair. Tux nodded and overdramatically dabbed his eyes.
For some reason, Susie decided to stop crying. She looked into Walter's eyes, and murmured, "Oh, no. Is that a log?"
"Holy cow, Susie, is that a speck in your eye?"
With that, they both grabbed tweezers and removed the visual obstacles. Happily, the appearance of their surroundings did not change in the least. The sunset, who had made friends with Tux a while back, put on an extra wondrous show, and the companions all sat down to watch it.
Suddenly, they heard footsteps, and the sunset's light was dwarfed by a bright light from behind them.
"Greetings, mortal ones," said the newcomer, "My name is the White One."
Not thinking, Susie asked, "Why are you named that, sir?" It perplexed even her why she addressed him formally, but most people would probably agree that one would be well informed and, in one way, wise, if they addressed one who's shining like a newborn star as something other than, "dude".
As it was, the White One was not offended. He was the type of dude insults either flew over, or ignored insults. This, anyway, was not an insult.
"I was named the White One because the greatest of the greatest and the first of the first decided it to be so. I congratulate you on being the first human to ask me that question. Most are, in one way or another, struck in the beginning by the utter obviousness of it," he said, glowing mildly while sitting down next to them. Susie got a better look of him, while Tux tried to compare their heights while the White One was sitting down.
The White One was white. He had the look of a pure, white candlestick, unlit. His face had no color other than pure white, and the folds of his white cloak were not shaded by light or absence of light. He was barefoot. In his hand he held a whole small olive tree. He touched its roots, and it glowed for a time, before stretching itself before the companions' eyes. He took its roots in his hands and lightly grasped them with his hands. The tree glowed bright, and its branches stretched far and wide, rolling out over the companions, a perfect, undamaged tree of olives. The roots of the tree fell to the ground, straight through the White One. He chuckled and rose, giving the trunk of the tree some room. Then he sat down against its trunk and turned his content face to the sunset, who was glad to have everyone's attention again.
After waiting some time, Walter asked, "Why are you here?"
The White One turned to him and said, "The task was given to me to tell you where you are. Someone always has to do it, and this time, I was picked."
He paused.
"You are no longer in the world you used to be. In this world, your task is greater than any before given to humans. Indeed, even I shake to think what lies ahead."
The White One paused again, looking troubled. "Your task is to defeat the King of Azahd Mahles. Few details are known of his power or abilities, but we do know he has uncounted legions of tens of thousands at his command. You may encounter these forces, but, with wisdom, strength, wit, and tact, you may defeat him, his legions, and more. I have gifts for you. With them, you may win this war. Clefspeare and Tux," said the White One, at which both flinched and looked wary, "your differences must be healed, or one or both of you will surely die in battle. I will give you a chance to heal these wounds you share right now," said the White One, clicking his fingers. Both Tux and Clefspeare disappeared with a pop, and, a second later, appeared, apparently posing for a picture, arm in arm, grinning, both, from ear to ear. They looked mildly surprised, and then grinned.
"I wondered when you'd get us back here."
Clefspeare and Tux were the best of friends from that day on, but they told none of the companions what had happened.
"New friends, never underestimate the value and power of a true and strong friendship. I can assure that, if your friendship endures, you will never die if you fight in the same battle with each other, always."
The White One continued, saying, "Also, to Susie-mae, wielder of great swords, and darts, I might add," he said, his eyes momentarily glowing jovially, "I give you a sword which will not fail for you at any time, a sword which will comfort always, in any dimension. It is made of no metal of this earth or this dimension, nay, it is made of purer material than this. It will do more than guide your way in this world," said the White One, handing her a sword that looked just like his face, a semi-transparent white candlewax-like texture. Upon her touch, it glowed mildly, and, when the glow reached its tip, a small spark flew off its tip and raced to the sunset.
"Thank you," said Susie, looking entranced.
"For you, Singsong, I have made a flute-wand, unbreakable, immutable, and, in a pinch, great for knocking people out. I leave it to you to reveal its powers," the White One said, handing 'Ol Singsong his flute-wand. Singsong just smiled, holding the glowing white artifact in his hands.
"Thank you."
"For you, William, I had a hard time deciding, for Walter was also in need of a fitting gift. To you, William Franklin, son of Clefspeare, I give a bow and a quiver which will never empty. It is, however, your job to acquire the skill to use it when you need it."
"To you, Ashely, daughter of, Smith, silversmith, I give a dagger, which will follow your command, even to defying the laws that have, 'til now, aptly guarded reality."
Ashely looked puzzled, and then the White One took his hand from under it. It glowed mildly and floated towards her, hilt first. She took its hilt, and raised it to the sun, inspecting it. As with Susie's, it glowed bright and shot a spark to the late afternoon sun. Looking satisfied, she tentatively let go of it. It stood still in the air, glowing softly as ever.
"Thank you, sir," she said, sheething her weapon.
"For you, Bonnie, daughter of elf and fairy," said the White One, causing Bonnie to go red, "I give to you wings unequalled, powerful and impenetrable. If you decide, elven fairy, they will protect more bodies than your own."
With that, Bonnie's wings burst into flame and were quickly replaced with candlestick-white wings, glowing in the early evening. Bonnie jumped from the ground, delighted, and sped around them several times before coming down.
"Thank you. I could not have asked for a better gift," she said, breathing quickly.
"Do not fool yourself, daughter, the gifts I give you are nothing compared to those you can cultivate yourself."
Bonnie blushed and made way for Walter.
"For you, Walter, son of a poor man and a princess," the White One said, looking, seemingly, straight into his eyes, not up, not down, "for you, I give the most dangerous of these gifts. I first appoint you leader of this fellowship. Your wisdom," he said, looking somewhat sternly at Walter, "is greater than either you or others have or, perhaps, will, realize."
Walter spluttered. "I'm not wise!" he said, looking, perhaps, unnerved by the idea.
"Calm yourself, son, your wisdom is more than you know, and it will prove to be your company's greatest need in times of trouble."
"Secondly, I give you Excalibur, reforged, remade, in my own trademark unnamed element. He should serve you well or better than any sword you have ever held before."
The White One handed him Excalibur, and Walter faltered.
And then jumped. The sword had spoken.The rest of the company had also heard the voice. It was soft, reassuring, and, for lack of a better word, aged. Without much doubt in sight, the sword had said, "Greetings, master."

The White One laughed softly, and picked up and returned the blade to its master, saying, "You must learn to think of your sword as no longer an it, but a he. Excalibur is your humble and willing servant. There is truly no reservation to what this sword would do for you, son of a princess, for good or for ill. If you turn away from the good and embrace evil, son, your sword would willingly do your will. I will warn your evil side, however, that your sword would be, if forced to evil, rather...annoying, shall I say? Aside from that, however, one would be wise to avoid taking up this sword without his master's will. This also applies to Susie's sword, and Ashely's dagger. They are willing and able companions for you, not just cold steel that does not think. Bonnie's wings and William's bow will also follow their master's will, and keep willingly and safely any secret his or her master could give them. The master's will is the only way to extract the master's secrets confided to it in the dark of night, when emotions scramble the mind."

Use your weapons and tools well, "O," said the White One, being interrupted by Tux. "Mr. White guy, er, One, could I not have a weapon like these? Also my friend could use such a tool to fight our opponents when we meet them. I think he ran out of kerosene a month or two ago."

"Ah, yes. I thought you two would ask for more than what I gave you," he said, smiling. "Yes, I will give you a tool, Tux, son of Unix, ruler of Osahd Somnahz. When your new weapons are ready, I will visit you," said the White One.

"The time has come for your number," at which he, standing up straight, squinted and pointed to each of them in turn, "seven, if my eyes don't deceive me, must set out on a most perilous adventure, trying the will, bending the mind, and delving deepest into your relationships to each other than ever before. Have courage, mortals, for you will not be alone. On your quest, you will be occasionally be accompanied by friends, but more often hindered by enemies. Heed my word and be careful, sons and daughters, and you will overcome many trials and dangers. Do not fear the dark of night, nor the blinding daylight of the desert, but overcome all these obstacles and more with wisdom and discretion. Make each other inseparable family, loving and caring for one another more than for yourselves. And remember this poem, adventurers, well:

The birds of spring are beauties,
flitting 'round like the leaves of fall,
heeding wind only, flying unlowly,
beauties, they are, 'til fall 'rives.

None so beautiful as the aeryn,
aye, e'en in fall, excels unequalled,
beauty unfal'tring, living, doing,
more beautiful than all else living.

The aeryn, 'tis sign of aid forthcoming,
help 'or the next hill, some might say,
bringing relief to good's good servants.

The aeryn, bird of all seasons,
breaks into song upon holiday and dawn,
wondrous, melodious, audible song;
in orange and blue, this bird is garb'd.


The White One turned into an aeryn in spring plumage and, without further comment, flew off into the sunset.

Was that good? Do you want me to update, say, weekly on this fine story from now on? Post the previous, what, three-, four hundred posts? (in compiled form!? You're nuts. Might be able to do it with help, though.)

Once again...this is a minute crumb of the original story. My estimate of fifty thousand words was made by finding the total word count and subtracting ten thousand from it, to estimate how much less there'd be if there weren't any pictures, title text, etc, etc, etc. This bit is merely 2520 words. Don't gasp. It's not much. At all. Considering it took me about half of my waking day to read the SOers' bit.

UPDATE: A few *gasp* spelling errors eliminated. Feel free to correct me on any others. Because nobody's posted on the SS1 thread, I'll begin working on the next bit. If a continuation turns up on SO before that...I don't know what I'd do.


!Noah!