The Mehliad

Chapter 3
Continuing the tale of young Dan Fogelberg (no not that one), who fell asleep in a storm and woke in a fantastical, creepy land. Beyond that, your guess is as good as ours.

I’d been walking around Nasteria with my guide Geoff for a few hours now. I realized I was hungry as hell. Geoff led me down into the Food & Entertainment district to get some grub.

“This place has been here since the ‘50s!” he told me over his shoulder as he capered ahead, pointing out various window displays full of perfectly-decorated cakes, pies, and various roasted birds. The smells wafting from the buildings were intoxicating. Each storefront was smoother and sleeker than the last, like those horrific box-shaped condos that are ruining cities everywhere: straight lines, shiny glass.

“The ‘50s?” I asked, “This all seems so…new.”

“Oh yeah” Geoff explained without missing a beat, “That’s one of the benefits of Nasteria: the shared expertise. See, when the Overlords acquired the district they killed off the old foodies and installed a mayor with a fashion and style background. She makes sure everything is super chic.”

“Wait,” I stopped in my tracks, “Overlords? Killed?”

“Well sure,” Geoff beamed, “In Nasteria you either embrace the Overlords’ way of things or you get liquidated.” He tossed a hand pie my way and I fumbled a second before catching it. It looked pristine, like it belonged in a magazine photo. I noticed my appetite was shrinking.