The First Adventure

by Mark Boutros

  ‘Looks like it.’ Oaf released the Fool.

  It walked on. ‘Need to protect the castle for the wedding, and help with Princess Sabrinia’s execution.’

  A knot formed in Questions’ stomach.

  35

  They walked along the sandy cliffs that looked over the west coast of Flowfornia, hoping to avoid the forest fires that lit the night. Although the wind blew sharp sand into Questions' face, the sea air was refreshing and there was less chance of running into bandits.

  ‘How are we supposed to save her?’ Questions asked.

  Oaf shook his head and wiped sand out of his eyes. ‘Us two can’t take them all on.’

  ‘Three,’ Tortured Soul said from her new home, an old water pouch attached to Questions’ belt.

  ‘Sorry, three,’ Oaf corrected.

  Questions stopped, sat down on the edge of a cliff overlooking a secluded beach and wept. ‘Do you think Karl is dead?’

  Oaf sat next to her and put a hand on her shoulder. ‘I don’t know. I’d like to think he isn’t. That he made it home and is meeting his parents about now…’

  Questions nodded. She had experienced so much that sitting on the edge of a cliff didn’t bother her. The white of the night sun illuminated the endless sea. ‘Why do people enjoy looking far away?’

  Oaf stared at the horizon. ‘Because it’s peaceful? Or maybe because it’s looking away from the pain…’ He huffed.

  Questions put her hand on his and smiled.

  He looked into her eyes. She rested her head on his shoulder and for a moment the world wasn’t so bad.

  Oaf stood and walked towards a sandy slope. He reached for a yellow flower with glowing blue specks.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Questions asked.

  ‘I want to give you something nice.’ He stretched his arm out but couldn’t reach it.

  ‘Is it okay if you don’t?’ She clasped her hands, worried he'd slip.

  ‘But I want to.’ He lost his footing and stumbled forward, but steadied himself. ‘See, I’m fine.’ He stood on one leg and smiled, showing he had control, but then his smile faded and his eyes widened. The sand underneath him gave way.

  Questions gasped and ran over, her heart thumping. ‘Are you okay?’ She stared into a dark, rocky, sandy hole. At the bottom, broken pieces of wood. ‘Can you say something?’ Was he hurt? Why wasn't he speaking?

  ‘I'm fine!’ Oaf’s voice called.

  Questions' heart relaxed.

  ‘It’s a tunnel! A bit of a painful one, but climb down!’

  She climbed down and emerged on a secluded beach. Rocks flanked it and the only way here would be via the sea, or the unorthodox route they took.

  Oaf handed Questions the flower, dotted with blood from his cut arm. She smiled and attached it to her belt, having never received anything like it.

  The night sun’s rays hugged the waves and shone upon a washed up, dark bump of some kind.

  Oaf shuddered. ‘What is that?’

  ‘Is it a body?’ Questions asked.

  ‘I think yes, but I hope no.’

  ‘Should we check?’

  Oaf grimaced. ‘I guess we should.’

  Tortured Soul jumped out of her pouch and onto Questions’ shoulder.

  They crept over to the body, and as they neared it became familiar. The dark hair, the thin frame.

  Questions put her hand to her mouth. ‘Is it?’

  Oaf dropped to his knees, swallowed and turned the body onto its back.

  A smile was frozen on Karl’s face.

  Questions buried her face in her hands.

  Oaf tapped Karl’s cheek, but nothing happened. He listened for breath, but there was none. ‘I can’t believe it… But why are his limbs stiff? Dead people are normally floppy.’

  ‘I can’t look at this…’ Tortured Soul got back into her pouch.

  Questions turned away.

  ‘Get away from him!’ a powerful voice boomed. A shrivelled lizard approached atop a humped horse. The lizard leapt out of her saddle and swung a flaming twig at Oaf and Questions, forcing them back. Her tongue flicked the white hood of her silk robe off and her worn face suggested she was so old that age no longer mattered.

  ‘Everything that drifts to this shore is mine,’ she said.

  ‘We just want to bury our dead friend.’ Oaf kept one eye on the bony, weary-looking horse.

  ‘Dead? He’s not dead,’ the lizard claimed.

  Oaf huffed. ‘Look at him! He’s not breathing! I’d say that counts as pretty dead!’

  Questions nudged Oaf and pointed towards the base of the cliff. A rocky arch led to a torch lit village, populated by creatures that seemed frozen in time, in lifelike positions.

  ‘If he’s not dead, what is he?’ Oaf asked.

  The lizard pointed to the Wrath of Arazod way in the distance, towering over the rocks that kept the beach a secret.

  ‘Anyone that falls from that cursed cliff ends up petrified so they don’t move on to the realm of the dead. Luck would have it that they wash up here.’ She stared into Oaf’s eyes. ‘Petrified expressions are ones of sorrow and regret, because on the way down they think about their loved ones, the things they’ll never get to do, and the mistakes they made to be in the situation of being pushed off a cliff.’ The lizard dramatized the process, jumping and flapping her arms. ‘The moment they feel the most fear and pain, their hearts beat such a powerful, regretful beat.’ She pounded her chest. ‘BOOM! The curse gets them and their bodies freeze in that moment. Although this one is rare. He seems to have found a glimmer of happiness in his moment of pain.’

  Oaf and Questions exchanged a baffled look.

  The lizard moved Karl’s arms and legs. ‘Their limbs can be moved. But the faces, they’re frozen forever.’

  The lizard dragged Karl by the arms, towards her horse.

  Oaf grabbed Karl’s legs.

  The lizard struggled against his strength. ‘I told you, he’s mine!’

  ‘How about I just take him?’ Oaf puffed his chest out.

  ‘Won’t get far.’

  ‘Why won’t we get far?’ Questions asked.

  The lizard dropped Karl. ‘I’m the only person who can cure him of his petrified state.’ She folded her arms. ‘So, if you want to take away a statuesque companion, go ahead.’

  Oaf huffed and let go of Karl’s feet.

  ‘You’re welcome to stay for dinnies and a chat. But bring him with you.’ The lizard walked off and dragged her humped horse by its neck. ‘The name is Morcoli, from the Entertainers of Jaspol across the southern sea. If you haven’t heard of us before, you have now. Lucky you.’

  Questions leaned in to Oaf. ‘What do we do?’

  Oaf shook his head. ‘What choice do we have?’ He lifted Karl onto his right shoulder and they followed.

  Morcoli bored them with the history of each grubby wooden building. ‘The washing hut is where Ms. Green Hands lives. She was a snake-toad that was found three years ago. I called her green hands on account of her green hands being the unique thing about her.’

  Oaf huffed, wishing for silence.

  Morcoli continued, ‘She had an affair with King Crab Claws, who isn’t a king. He runs the inn that has no roof, which is ironic considering most people stay at an inn because they want a roof over their heads.’

  The horse stopped. ‘Come on, stupid!’ She kicked its knee. It whined and continued walking. Morcoli chained it to a stone post then nudged its bowl of food far enough so it couldn’t reach it.

  Questions stared open mouthed at Oaf. She had read about humped horses. When a horse was young, Jermalian warlords would cut the skin off their backs, and then attach a saddle that had two large hump-like stones, one on each side of the saddle. Then the skin would regrow around the stones, giving the horse its humps. It was so archers could sit alongside riders when they went to war.

  Along the steps up to Morcoli’s house was an army of petrified knights from Jermal, blades at the ready. Th
ey must have been from a war long ago. From afar this village would look well defended.

  Questions studied the sad, petrified faces. Part of her hoped to see Frong, Sags, and Bar Witch, as at least it would mean they weren’t completely dead, but instead she saw dud Fools, the bald woman from the engagement party and Maladin. He’d been manipulated into cleaning the foot of a petrified Cyclops.

  Jars of herbs and potions lined the walls of Morcoli’s wooden kitchen. There was a wooden worktop to match the wooden interior and the bedroom door was shut.

  ‘Put him in that chair,’ Morcoli requested of Oaf.

  Oaf set Karl down in a rocking chair and folded Karl's limbs to fit.

  ‘Your strength is remarkable.’ Morcoli held her gaze on Oaf a bit too long. Her long tongue licked her eye.

  Oaf grimaced.

  ‘Let me just get his dinnies.’ Morcoli walked outside.

  Tortured Soul popped out of her pouch and looked up at Questions. ‘I’m staying in here. I’ve remembered that I hate these needy, entertainery types. Night.’ Tortured Soul retreated into her pouch and closed the lid.

  Oaf stared at the village below. ‘Let’s hear what she has to say about curing Karl.’

  Morcoli returned with a bowl of thick, sloppy, white liquid. She spooned it into Karl’s mouth, but most of it ran down his chin.

  ‘So, how do we get our friend back?’ Questions asked.

  ‘We’re kind of in a rush. We’ve got to go and save someone from being executed,’ Oaf added.

  ‘Well… the potion to save your friend here takes half a day to be ready.’ Morcoli massaged her brow with her tongue. ‘So, I guess the best thing you can do is have dinnies with me. Keep an old lonely lizard company.’ She looked at Oaf who turned to Questions.

  Oaf stood up. ‘It’s okay. We’ll wait out on the beach and return when Karl’s ready.’

  ‘Well… If you have dinnies with me, maybe I can cure a lot more people for you… Help you on your mission to save your friend. An army might be of use when it comes to stopping an execution.’

  Questions’ eyes lit up.

  Questions stared at the chalky black soup in the bowl, but no matter how long she looked at it, it didn't become any more appetising.

  Oaf stirred his, avoiding tasting it too. They exchanged a smile. ‘I guess it’ll give us energy for the road back to Flowforn,’ Oaf whispered. He swallowed a spoonful of the grainy liquid and grimaced.

  Morcoli watched Oaf. ‘It is remarkable how large and muscular you are.’

  ‘Thanks…’ Oaf didn't look at her.

  ‘If you know how to cure everyone, why do you leave them petrified?’ Questions asked, thankfully shifting Morcoli’s gaze from Oaf.

  ‘People get pushed off cliffs for a reason. If I cure them I end up endangering myself if they’re crazy.’ She wiped Karl’s mouth with her finger. ‘You’re the first people to ever come for someone, so I’m making an exception.’

  It sounded innocent enough, but Questions saw darkness stir in Morcoli's yellow-red eyes.

  ‘What do you do with them?’ Oaf asked.

  ‘I perform scenarios.’ She smiled. ‘And I’m working on a play I will use them to bring to life.’

  Oaf raised an eyebrow.

  ‘It’s called Captain Brave and the Lionbear.’

  ‘What’s it about?’ Questions asked.

  ‘It’s about a lizard who falls in love with a Lionbear, but her village won’t accept the creature. However, the Lionbear wins them over through helping, but one of the villagers hates his presence and starts a fire, blaming him.’

  ‘Is that a bit sad?’ Questions asked.

  ‘No! He is banished, but Captain Brave leaves her village to find him, and they declare their love for one and other. It’s beautiful.’

  Oaf swallowed more soup.

  ‘However, the Lionbear dies of illness, wind-stricken in the cold seasons… Captain Brave decides to preserve the tragedy in a play.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘None of the Entertainers of Jaspol will take her play, so she leaves for new shores.’ A smirk flashed over her wrinkly face. ‘She takes it to all the towns and castles in Flowfornia, but she is shunned, ridiculed!’

  ‘I feel a bit sorry for her,’ Oaf said.

  ‘With nowhere to turn, Captain Brave settles on a beach and stumbles across a pile of petrified bodies and decides to give them a new life.’

  Questions relaxed in her chair, her fingers and toes tingled.

  Morcoli continued, ‘She builds them a village, where having been judged her whole life, they don’t judge her, and they live happily ever after.’

  Oaf’s slurping sounded louder, a thankful distraction from the tale.

  Morcoli stood. ‘She waits for the day a petrified Lionbear comes into her life. Day after day, sunset after sunset, year after year, only knights, villagers, and idiots.’

  Questions stared at her bowl and struggled to keep her eyes open. Her jaw felt numb.

  Morcoli pointed at Oaf. ‘Until she finally sees an Oaf, one of a kind, and decides she will make the Oaf her new Lionbear… and marry him.’

  ‘What?’ Oaf slumped forward, his head smashed the bowl in his lap.

  'Hey, what have…?‘ Questions’ neck stiffened and everything faded.

  The world was blurry and Questions couldn't move. She couldn't tell how much time had passed. There were dots, colourful dots. Why so many dots?

  A tune… Was that whistling? Was Morcoli whistling?

  Her heart was loud and beat slowly. It was as though she was somewhere between life and death.

  A pale blur moved through the haze like a ghost. 'We will be together in the morning my love.' It looked down at what must have been Oaf. 'Now I must sleep to look my best.'

  The blur moved and hovered above Questions. 'Ugh, I'm too tired to tie you up. I'll do it later.'

  The blur moved away and snoring filled the air.

  What was going on?

  Something bumped around in Questions' throat. Was she choking? Was this the end? Her insides tightened, the only feeling she had, but then something flew out of her mouth and her eyes focused that little bit more.

  Vomit streaked the wood next to her and Tortured Soul stood in front of her eyes.

  'Shh,' Tortured Soul said. 'That weird thing gave you some sort of sleepy soup.'

  Questions groaned. Her arms tingled and her toes moved. She almost cried, so glad to regain movement.

  'Can you say anythin'?' Tortured Soul head-butted Questions' nose.

  Questions propped herself up on her elbows. 'Is Oaf okay?'

  'He's out of it. You have to pretend you are too and strike when the freak is least expectin' it.'

  Questions, her head full of clouds, lay back down.

  ‘Clean this up first!’ Tortured Soul said. ‘And find me new liquid before I flake.’

  Questions cleaned the mess and found Tortured Soul a glass bottle and filled it from a water bucket.

  ‘Moving up in the world!’ Tortured Soul boasted and jumped in.

  Footsteps came from the closed room.

  Questions rolled Tortured Soul’s bottle under the wooden worktop. She returned to her sleeping position.

  Morcoli opened the door and looked into the room. ‘Best tie you up now just in case.’ She picked up the rope.

  Questions, tied from head to toe and pretending to be unconscious, slumped against a petrified frog-woman on the beach. The orange sunrise coloured her face while the cool breeze tickled her cheeks.

  Morcoli positioned all the petrified inside a circle of candles around a shiny, circular stone resting on a plinth. Karl held a broadsword over the stone, and Oaf, propped up by three frozen knights, had one of his limp hands on the stone.

  Morcoli scooped more soup from the bucket and spooned it into Oaf’s mouth. ‘When the Cutting of the Stone is complete, we will share one life, one soul, one love, one skin.’ Morcoli’s arms trembled.

  She approached Questions, who held her breath. Morc
oli poured more horrible liquid into Questions' mouth, but when Morcoli turned, Questions spat it onto the lizard's back.

  ‘My outfit!’ She turned back to Questions. She lifted her hand to strike, but Questions barged a petrified knight on top of her, knocking her to the sand.

  ‘Get it off me!’

  Questions hopped behind the petrified frog-woman and barged it on top of the knight. She shoved and kicked as many petrified creatures as she could until Morcoli had no hope of escape.

  Morcoli shouted from under the pile, but all Questions heard was muffled nonsense.

  Questions sat back, looked at Oaf and smiled, thankful he was safe.

  Tortured Soul ran out of Morcoli’s home and climbed into Oaf’s mouth. Oaf threw up a river of the foul soup all over Karl’s face, but he remained still.

  ‘Why isn’t it working?’ Questions' hands trembled.

  ‘Dunno.’ Tortured Soul climbed into Oaf’s mouth again. He threw up more liquid onto Karl’s face. Oaf’s daze returned to normality. He took a moment to readjust, then coughed.

  ‘Sorry, Karl.’ Oaf pinched a cube of vomited bread from in between Karl’s bottom lip and lower teeth. ‘Thanks for saving me,’ Oaf said to Questions.

  She smiled and waved with her bound hands.

  Oaf took the broadsword from Karl and cut Questions free.

  The muffled sounds continued from below the pile.

  ‘Will she be able to breathe under there?’ Questions asked.

  ‘I’ve got an idea that might help us,’ Oaf said.

  They lifted enough creatures off Morcoli's body so Oaf could tie her up. He carried her back to her home and put her in the rocking chair. ‘Now, we need you. So please cure our friend, and the rest of these people.'

  Tortured Soul stared at the jars of herbs and potion bottles.

  'Are you remembering something?' Questions asked.

  'I don't know…' she said.

  Morcoli said nothing and Oaf huffed. 'They can be our army to free Flowforn, and we’ll see to it that you have somewhere in the capital to host your plays. There will be plenty of real people to see your work and keep you from being lonely,’ Oaf said.