Stephen Zimmer - Crown of Vengeance

“We’re friends, believe me, I wouldn’t let just anyone vent in my living room. And it’s not time to panic; you are just twenty-seven years old. Believe it or not, that is still young, Antonio,” Logan encouraged, shutting the front door.

Logan gestured for Antonio to have a seat on a couch in the small living room at the front of the house. Antonio strode over and sank down heavily into the cushion.

He put his elbows on his knees, folding his hands in between, staring down at the rug underneath the low coffee table in front of him. He let his breath out slowly, as his shoulders sagged.

“You may be right, Logan,” Antonio said in a tired voice, “but I’m starting to find myself thinking about all of this, and where I’m really going, more and more.”

Logan understood his friend very well, and was glad that at least Antonio felt that he had an outlet with Logan. Antonio leaned toward being an introvert, and carried a tendency towards shyness around most others.

Logan knew that Antonio was allowing unhealthy pressures to build ever higher and higher, stoking a flaming resentment that was fanned into more of an inferno with each case of disrespectful treatment that he received.

Antonio did not ask for much, and certainly did not have enormous expectations out of life. Yet, when even a few tiny crumbs refused to fall off of life’s tables, in an age when some feasted themselves to gluttony, even the most laid back of individuals could begin to simmer with a resentful ire.

Logan did not have many outlets for his own frustrations, but he had at least crafted some methods of containing his own outrage and disgust with the direction of the world.

Hurling himself into his work, the bulk of his energies were focused upon his small business. He had grasped the merciful art of blocking most negative thoughts out of his mind while he was immersed in tasks for clients, and clients were always capable of annoying him well enough.

“Want a soft drink? At this hour I need one myself. I’m getting a little groggy,” Logan inquired.

He walked to his favorite high-backed chair, and lowered himself down on one knee. He had popped open the half-sized refrigerator just to the side of the chair, and pulled out two cans of soft drinks, before Antonio had even rendered an answer.

Almost like little fueling stations, Logan strategically kept stocked soft drinks at a few different points of the house. He did not deem it laziness, but rather efficiency. In an age where conserving energy was akin to adhering to religious dogma, he figured that he was just being logical and harmonizing with the times.

“Sure. Thanks,” Antonio said, accepting the beverage. He opened it, took a long drink, and shook his head. His familiar and gentle smile, the epitome of good-natured miens, crept back onto his face. His voice was slightly apologetic, even if the weariness was still present. “Sorry about the outburst, Logan. Just everything is getting to me.”

“Antonio, you know that if I could work magic, I would help you out right now,” Logan smiled widely towards his friend, an expression that he only sparingly displayed. The smile then faded a little. “Only you, though. Most of the rest in this world can go to hell. If I can ever break through this trap of having to work for idiots, and live in a world governed by idiots, who were voted in by masses of even greater idiots, I will take care of things too. We will get the hell out of this town. We will take care of our own.”

Antonio gestured over towards a fantastic poster framed on the wall to his left. It showed a vast castle with great towers set atop a lofty mountain, above which a great black dragon was flying. The roaring dragon was oriented towards one of the towers of the castle’s outer wall, one massive set of talons reared back as if about to strike a blow.

“Be nice to go somewhere like there,” Antonio said, staring into the large print.

Logan smiled again, with a wistful glint to his eyes as he gazed upon the image.

To Logan, the art spoke of a world of wonder, a world where the rules were fundamentally different, where anything might be possible, and where something new was around every corner. It spoke to him of majesty and dignity, a window into another world rich with excitement and an adventurous life.

“I’ve looked at that one quite a lot myself,” Logan commented. “Yes, it would be great to go back to an age of castles, to a time and place when things like dragons really existed. But it just isn’t possible, now is it?”

“No, I guess it isn’t, but it doesn’t hurt to dream,” Antonio responded.

“No, it doesn’t,” Logan agreed. “I think I would go insane otherwise.”

He paused for a moment in quiet reflection, and then looked over at his friend.

“I probably need another break myself, and I’ve been cooped up in here for too long today,” Logan said, “Want to take a short walk?”

“Sounds good to me,” Antonio agreed.

“Wait here, just a second,” Logan instructed him.

It took a couple of minutes for Logan go check and make sure that everything that he had been working on when Antonio had knocked on his door was saved, protected, and in good order. Once satisfied, he returned back to the front living room.

“Ready?” Logan inquired, picking up a set of keys from where they were lying upon a small wooden stand, adjacent to a coat rack positioned behind the front door.

The two exited the house, with Logan tarrying again to lock the door and set his house’s alarm system. It was nearly three in the morning when they started off down the quiet neighborhood street.

A tranquil atmosphere had settled over the neighborhood, as most of the occupants of the nearby houses had long since retired for the night. A few scattered lights were visible, shining forth from a few windows, but only the sound of a dog barking and some cars farther off broke the stillness.

A smooth breeze washed cool air upon the faces of the two young men, as they made their way along the sidewalk. The night sky held few clouds within it, and those that did ride the sky looked to be little more than stretched, thin wisps of vapor. The moon, nearly full, was bright and stood out strongly amid a host of visible stars.

The moonlight dappled the streets in pockets of light, even as it cast a wide variety of shadows from the towering oak, maple, and pine trees that populated the older neighborhood and lined its streets.

For about a block, until they had turned the corner to the right at an intersection, Logan and Antonio continued in relative silence. At the moment, the atmosphere was a welcome sliver of restful serenity.

Occasionally, there was the presence of a cat trotting in and out of the shadows by a house, or crouched attentively by the street. Here and there, a dog let loose a couple of small barks from within one of the fenced-in backyards that they passed.

Otherwise, there were very few distractions, save for the occasional car on its way home or cutting through the side roads.

Logan gazed up at the open sky, letting his eyes sweep across the huge ebon canopy, even as his lungs took in a long, slow breath of the fresh, cool air. To Logan, the night sky always hinted of the magical, as if something wondrous and mystical was playing just beyond the edge of his vision.

It always stoked the fires of his imagination, as for him it was like looking into a swathe of infinity whose immensity and scope was overwhelming to comprehend.

With Antonio dwelling silently in a brooding world of his own thoughts, Logan allowed his mind to wander. He had always envisioned the grander picture of life. It was much harder for him to focus on the smaller pictures that occupied the daily world. In his quiet, restrained world, his mind was still free to roam with willful abandon.