“I was trying to open that box.  It was taking me too long: box after box after box but still, no sand or dust in sight.  I was young, got a little impatient and instead of waiting until I’d get to the last box, I threw the whole of it hard against a rock to break it open.  It made the box angry.  The gold dust and sand that came out spread and penetrated into my skin.

When the guards saw what was happening, they became aware that I wasn’t just any child, but one with the type of secret knowledge they might be seeking… that I might have been born in one of the ruling families.  Unluckily, the dust and sand came out blackened from my hair tentacles and infiltrated the broken box back again only for it to turn to dust and disappear into the ground.

“Bravo!” Labaguette manages to squeak, his beak still held firmly between the Captain’s fingers, “you became an exploiter, a warrior, a devil’s evil whisperer,” he yelps as a strong flap of the wings frees him from his Master’s grip, “some cursed planet, that planet of yours”.

“Are you bird or devil?” the Commander continues.

“I’m a PROPHET!” yells Labaguette, “I’m a prophet.  I speak the truth.  I’m the appointed universal soothsayer.  I’m a better-the-devil-you-know-spirit, which is more than you can say.”

“Damned squeaky-voiced bird!” the King exclaims, grabbing Labaguette by the throat, squeezing him just enough for him to live on, yet sufficiently tightly to stop him utter another word.  “Let us hear the end of your story, Commander.”

To be continued…


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