“I’ve got a lovely bunch of dinosaurs,” I mumble.

In my room, a lovely bright day. The sun shining through and highlighting how little Nebulae has spoken to me on the wall. Still waiting on that damn elephant tusk Hohnair Mand promises he’s bringing up but it’s so heavy he can only move it a little each day. Trust me, I believe him Want to know why? I dragged that golden beast down there myself long before Hohnair Mand’s time.

A set of miniature dinosaurs sit on my window sill. Beautifully carved from - I take a whiff in – bone. Tastes like bone too. Gods, I’m so full from the last Sac Day still but who doesn’t crave a good pork barbeque slathered in sweet and savory sauce? Does pork barbecue have bones in it or is it chicken wing barbeques? I can’t remember. Plus, I don’t know. Was before my earthly time.

Anyways, a book some idiot brought to me centuries ago sits open on my bed. A reference of dinosaurs which this mountain top is like a freaking refuge for history books that fall off of Earth. Don’t ask me why, but today is the only day I find it amusing. Or find a purpose of those stupid pages.

A Deinonychus, Euoplocephalus, Apatosaurus, Tyrannosaurus, and a Hadrosaurus sit in the sun. Nice and warm under my fingers. Found them in the pants of the last Sac Day food. Food is food. Can’t remember the idiots name but it’s filled me for freaking days. Thanks to Hohnair Mand of course and his ultimate painting skills. His grandma was good. His mom better. But now, he is the absolute best.

When did I meet Hohnair Mand? Well, after his mom was Sac’d of course. Met his mom after her mom was Sac’d. Can’t sac this kid. He’s too damned good.

Deinonychus says, “Tricky gods, lower-case g. How dare you entrap me here.”

Euoplocephalus races back and forth. “Yes, filthy gods. We’ve a plan for you.

Apatosaurus cheers. “Yes, yes! Down with the gods!”

“Roar, roar,” T-Rex counters because he can’t talk English.

Hadrosaurus offers, “T-Rex says, ‘Jonas the God and Nebulae forever! Yay!”

A flash of color steals my attention. A message from Nebulae scripted across my wall. Oh yes, my wonderful Nebulae.

My dearest Jonas,

I have found in the Library of Prophecies, the legend of the Nothosaurus. The one creation alive in Triassic time was slaughtered by Death, Himself. The beast was brought to the Underworld to protect the souls until they go up to Earth. The prophecy, my dear, has begun. It reads: If the Nothorodon disappears from the Underworld, it will signal Death to appear to the one who enslaved the beast. However, Death must work with Life in order to release it. Fire is the only release to kill these Gods. But if not, death is sure to come.

Be safe, be vigilant, be weary, my love.

- Nebulae

“Uhm,” I say. “Do you mean Death the God will come to me and you or like death, lower-case d?”

Her words write swiftly underneath her name.

P.S.

It is unclear and it’s to you, not us.

“What a bitch.” I grab the paint and lather it over her words. “You’re a part of this too Nebulae.” The shake in my voice is only silenced by louder words. “DON’T ABANDON ME NOW, BITCH!”

Back in bed, sitting on the edge, staring at my five little dinosaurs on the sill. Deinonychus, Euoplocephalus, Apatosaurus, Tyrannosaurus, Hadrosaurus.

I have to burn her bones. The last Sac Day, I have to burn up Death’s bones and send her back to Sky before she destroys me and my mountain oasis.