Celestial's World

by Robert Ian Wilson

  “That was a good adventure, Lucius. One of the best I’ve heard in years and very similar to little friend of mine. His venture was quite like yours but has ended with him living in Eve. He’s had quite a job fixing our world...”

  “Iobar...” I gasped.

  “Ooo, I cannot remember his name... only his small appearance. I frequently have birds visiting my canopy, but this one stood out. A little bluebird.”

  William whispered: “Only we know of his origins and it should stay that way, Lucius. Timekeepers are incredibly strict with their rules, as you know from personal experience.”

  I kept my mouth shut, but remembered my friend, fondly. How Sedgwick would’ve been proud of Iobar’s work; Eve had been fully restored.

  Before we left, Thea spent a few minutes inside of her library. I joined her and collected as many provisions as we could muster. She had a leather bag that seemed durable enough for a long journey and we’d crammed it to the brim. We had apples, pears, bread, and some kind of paste, with butter. I filled up a medieval fashioned water bottle, which certainly showed her era.

  With one quick look around, we were ready to venture on and find the next doorway. I was sure William had another route to Hethenheim that would skip the dog ship (Bjorn’s old crew) apparently, they’d gotten a tad reckless since their Captain's departure; without a true leader, things were always going to be tough for the crew.

  I offered to carry the bag first and we decided to take turns and formed a schedule.

  We stopped in the front of Rostruk.

  “Were off, old friend. Will you be okay, until our return?”

  “Do not worry, Lucius Domhill. I still have visitors on occasion. Today, I’m waiting for Mr Watson. He needs to borrow a book about plantation and agriculture. You’d think a farmer of many years would already have the skills to answer his questions...” chuckled Rostruk. “A fox will always be a fox... meat on the mind.”

  “Goodbye old friend,” said William, and Thea gave the tree a hug.

  We exited the courtyard and walked south against the wind. I’d ventured north in the past and dived off the cliff to find the ley-line to the sea, with Sammy. This time, we came to the edge of a valley. The earth sunk into the ground and created a crevice. A domed shaped building was sat between two hills.

  “This was the Druid's home of brass and science; Evermoor. This is where they set up camp before everything became neglected after Dante had his way. The building has a ley-line, which stretches to Hethenheim and from there, the passage to the Divided-High-Grounds,” said William. “To get to the laboratory, we must cross the river, which flows from the north.”

  “The Toad’s crossing... Filmass; a dirty creature, who only thinks of trade and profit,” said Thea. “Do we have anything to trade with?”

  “Hopefully my presence alone will make him think twice to barter.”

  We pressed on and came across the river. It fell into the crevice and the loud waterfall created a thick fog; a low cloud. William went first and gestured us to follow, towards some steep-stone-steps. They were hard to climb down, especially being covered in moss and I’d accidentally slipped a few times. Thea jested I needed some boots with actual grip, but her words came back to haunt her, as she fell on her bum, on the last step. I’ve never seen her so red in the face before, but my gentlemanly prowess that had been drilled into me since birth, came into play and I helped her up; without gloating - maybe I had a slight smirk...

  The crevice felt more like a humungous cave. The light struggled to enter the cracked earth. The only visible light came from the oddly placed Victorian lanterns; they were hooked on the walls, amongst the greenery. The moss from the stones had coated the entire area and the smell reminded me of seaweed. The loud, constant run of water drowned out all ways of communication and so, we quietly sauntered along, until a cloaked figure came into view. It was hunchbacked and breathed heavily. We stopped and I looked to its feet, which were green, webbed, and slimy.

  “Filmass!” called William.

  The Toad turned and faced us. He was certainly not the best-looking creature in Eve. His round features looked like he’d swallowed a large balloon that caused his boils to swell.

  “Is that who I think it is. Well, well... master Ullpli has brought me a little something,” smiled the amphibian, whilst he sized up Thea.

  “I brought nothing toad, except for a wish.”

  “Oh! And what is that – Sire...”

  I could tell Filmass’s sarcasm had hit a nerve, with William, clearly, the toad wasn’t his favourite animal, but there was always a reason and a purpose for that particular animal to exist in Eve. As it turned out Filmass was in fact, a cleaner; he ate the moss and the large flies that infested the river. The Druids had built a telescope within the centre of their complex, an astrology chamber and the flies were a nuisance in their quest to explore the stars; which meant the toad was old... very old.

  “A simple wish of letting your – master – to cross into Evermoor.”

  “Everything has a price Ullpli, no matter who you are.”

  “Indeed... maybe I could find another way across... your old friends in Maylok may have some information.”

  The toad gulped. “And what kind of information would that be!”

  “You know the kind toad.”

  “Fine! Get into my boat, but I don’t know why? You have certain parlour tricks to get you to any location in Eve. Everyone knows that.”

  “It’s true,” said William. “I could vanish into thin air and arrive at my destination, within a mere second, but they can’t. Lucius and Thea need a guide, and that’s what I’m doing.”

  Their argument had crossed my mind before, but magic is a tricky thing to explain and after the previous events, William was simply dried up. The strain of keeping a world from total inhalation would tire even the best of us. Personally, I think he enjoyed being human once again, even a small task of walking, reminded him of the simple pleasures in life.

  Filmass’s boat was rickety at best and leaked. My job was to use a bucket to empty the wreck, otherwise, we’d be all swimming.

  We silently floated downstream and Evermoor came into view. It was the most complicated architecture I’d ever seen; even the future was more strait forward and that’s saying something! It looked like a confused dome that had merged with a cake. There were pipes that stuck out of every cranny and thick steam poured into the atmosphere. The building was constructed out of brass, which had faded from the moss; clearly, the toad had been slacking in his duties.

  We hit the banking with a thud and jumped onto the sand. William turned to the amphibian and tossed a coin; Filmass court it and bit the end.

  “Pure gold,” smirked the toad. He hopped back into his boat and took off. We watched him disappear into the fog.

  “Come on. It’s only a short walk,” gestured William, and we followed him up a small sand dune.

  Evermoor was huge. It didn’t appear to be large at first, but the building stretched back into the cliffside. We came to some very extravagant doors that had a symbol on the front. A telescope was a centrepiece and was surrounded by little men in cloaks, who bowed to the stars.

  “Very symbolic,” I said.

  William pulled on a lever near the door and the entrance opened. The air was very stale. The long dark hallway was incredibly eerie. Its imagery brought me back to my days of venturing through an abandoned manor, which was close to the coast. That gave me the same feeling; the sense of being watched. Onwards we went.

  Chapter Three - Big Ben

  I didn’t know what to expect with the Druids home. They had a particular obsession with brass, as every bit of furniture was merged with the building. The pipes continued to be the main theme; they seemed to take up most of the walls and ceiling.

  It was warm inside, and my British military uniform was made of thick wool, which didn’t help; I still wore the attire that was handed to me in the Crow’s treehouse, although it had se
en better days.

  We ventured further and came across a hall of rooms accommodated by bedding, wardrobes, and lavatories. The bunk beds were small, fit enough for a child. I checked the wardrobes and found some odd clothing; the material was as smooth as silk but thicker. Thea spotted a black coat, which looked far more comfortable than my own. It must have been a long coat for a gnome because it was at least a medium on me. The design was nice and had an array of metal buttons; it reminded me of the Rifle Brigade in the 1800s.

  I hung up the old military coat and closed the door. I felt better suited for the adventure ahead, Thea too. She wore an exact coat, but in Burgundy; the collar came up to her neck and she fixed her hair in a bobble. My heart skipped a beat.

  We proceeded out into a corridor and there was a blackness at the end.

  “We’re not far from the centre of the building,” observed William.

  “I’m guessing that’s the doorways location?” I asked.

  “Yes, and something else we need.”

  We walked into the blackness and the Priest found a switch on the wall. He turned the nozzle and the circular room was lit up by extravagant Edison lights. A generator rumbled under the floor, which provided the building electricity; something Sedgwick had taught me about the expected future.

  Deep in the middle of the room was something completely unexpected, yet, wondrous to observe. A giant telescope was built into a humungous grandfather clock, which had certain similarities to ‘Big Ben’ of London.

  “What is this place? Truly?” asked Thea.

  “This is the birthplace of all ley-line keys.”

  “Sedgwick’s key?”

  “Yes,” replied William, and he brought out the gnomes damaged key. It felt like only yesterday when my dear friend had struck the Viking, thus snapping his key in two.

  “You still have his key!?”

  “I wish I could’ve returned it to Sedgwick, but it wasn’t meant to be... but it shall not be damaged anymore!” boomed William. He walked towards the strange contraption and gestured for me to follow. There were cast mouldings hung up next to the machine. “Lucius, pick one.”

  I browsed each moulding and stopped on a sword that had a key for a handle.

  “Excellent. Now pick it up.”

  I did and it was quite heavy. Ullpli placed the damaged key in the casting. We slotted the cube shape into the grandfather clock and walked up a spiral staircase that looped around the machine towards the telescope. On the highest platform was a console of buttons.

  “Lucius, type in these coordinates. 05h 35m 17.3s −05° 23′ 28″.”

  I did what was instructed and used the symbols on the console. The telescope slowly moved in position.

  “We are aiming towards Orion Nebula and the sword constellation.”

  “But there are no stars in this sky,” questioned Thea.

  “This has the ability to see all-stars in every world - if you please, Thea,” said William, whilst he pointed towards another nozzle. The machine came to life and a sharp light came from the sky. It entered Eve with a sonic boom and came straight for us. The star was incredibly bright, and my blurred vision watched the object pass through the lens of the telescope. Big Ben lit up like a Christmas tree and the sound of cogs, twisted and turned for a good few minutes.

  The machine abruptly stopped, and I could distinctively hear the steam pumping through the piping. We went down the spiral staircase and stood in front of the clock, which chimed twelve. The belly of the machine opened, and the steam escaped confinement.

  “Lucius, go forth and collect the new key.”

  I made my way through the door and gazed upon a beautiful 1500’s deschaux rapier-sword. The French hilt had rings extending from the crosspiece, to protect the hand and the scabbard was brass; there was a red pentagram marked on the pommel.

  “Her name is Orion; take the key Lucius and become a guardian. This sword will let you pass through all ley-lines and keep you from the Timekeepers prison.”

  It would have been an honour, but I personally wanted to fulfil my own life ambitions and not to be stuck with a responsibility that was forced upon me. “I will take Orion and hope she’ll help us in this fight – but once this is over, I want nothing more than to go home and fight for my country. Maybe live out my day’s like a normal human-being...”

  William nodded, “I understand Lucius, although that might not be possible.”

  “Everyone has a choice, including me,” said Thea, as she held my hand. “Prophecy or not; we choose our own fate.”

  “Indeed,” smiled the Priest, but his tone wasn’t sincere. That slight quiver of sadness made me uneasy, but the feeling faded just as quick as it came. “Shall we find the door to Hethenheim?”

  “Let’s,” replied Thea.

  I strapped Orion to my side and continued through Evermoor and passed along the strange brass corridors. We came to an open room that featured a large statue of unnamed Druid. He was holding up a black rock towards the skies.

  “Lucius, tap Orion on the statue,” advised William. I strolled up and tapped three times on the statues foot. I stepped back and watched the Druid come alive; it kneeled before me and dropped the rock on the floor.

  “This is a meteorite, which passed through a ley-line and into Eve. Another experiment of the Druids.”

  I’d noticed a pentagram was engraved in the rock. I touched the symbol with the pommel and the meteor split in two.

  “This ley-line was used to access towns within every world, so the gnomes could trade with all species. This was a symbolic sign for wealth and to dazzle the traders, who were lucky enough to see such a thing,” said the priest.

  “What shall I do?”

  “Just think of Hethenheim and we’ll be there in no time.”

  We entered the blue glow that illuminated from the meteor. We came out a of large door that was under a classical structure. A familiar scent entered my lungs. We were inside the Coliseum. It had been closed down since Bjorn’s reign. Probably an unpopular move by the bear, but a necessary one; most likely to show authority and a distaste to pointless gladiatorial combat.

  “Odd place to trade,” said Thea.

  “This Coliseum was originally a booming market until Esca turned it into a madhouse,” answered William.

  “Indeed. And I’ve witnessed his madness first-hand.”

  “It was a good throw Lucius; you certainly gave the ape a surprise,” smirked William.

  “How do you know about that? You weren’t there...”

  “You had struck a bond with the prophecy sword. It gave you the ability of swordplay, but you still needed a helping hand - from time to time. Such as building your anatomy. I bet you miss being tall...” jested William.

  Thea sniggered.

  “I’m not that short.”

  The front gate suddenly burst open and a huge furry figure stepped in. He wore the Hethenheim steel armour that bared the mark of antlers. He had a chain of office around his neck and the Mayor came forth.

  “My friends, it is good to see you!” said Bjorn the bear. I approached the grizzly and gave him a hug. It had been a long time since I’d heard his voice.

  “Thought you’d be with Flit?”

  “Not right now, he’s too busy playing the good husband,” chuckled the bear.

  “He’s married!?” said Thea.

  “To Thistle, and they have offspring.”

  “Never thought he was a homely hare.”

  “We all are, once we find our other halves,” said William. “Is everything in order Bjorn.”

  The bear nodded: “Yes Ullpli, but it hasn’t been easy without a king or queen. We still await your decision father.”

  “You have done well so far Bjorn, just steady the ship for a while longer.”

  I could see the suspicion in the bear’s eyes. He knew there was something wrong and so, with confidence, we told him about the current situation. Of course, he offered his services, but Eve needed a strong le
ader. He understood, with more than a little persuasion.

  “How can that filth still remain?” asked Bjorn.

  “We’re not sure, but there is foul play at work; Lira will show us the way,” said William.

  “Come,” gestured the grizzly. “I have a surprise for you.”

  Out of the front gate was a rapturous roar of gratitude. Hundreds of animals had turned out to greet us and I’d felt incredibly humbled. Elia, the retired mayor wondered from the crowd. He looked well and had put on some weight. A group of fluffy grey hares came scampering up and hopped into my arms, which caused me to lose my balance. There were five in total, three doe and two bucks. Four large ears separated the horde of bunnies; Flit and Thistle helped me up off the ground.

  “Sorry Lucius, they can be a handful,” chuckled Flit.

  “You look tired Flit,” I said, observing the bags under his eyes. “Hello, Thistle.”

  “No Sammy?” she asked.

  “He has a litter of his own to deal with,” smirked Thea.

  We were directed to the centre of town, which was decorated in bunting. There were rows of long tables with party food on top. It reminded me of the Fairfax farm street festival, when all our neighbours gathered for a nightly feast and dance.

  We spent a good while with our friends and soaked in the warm welcome. I asked Thea to dance to the slow melodic flute. For the first time in a while, I’d forgotten about our troubles. I felt tired but incredibly relaxed. It was like this until the sun went down and the fires had dwindled. We decided to move during the night and head to the Divided High Grounds.

  We were accompanied by Bjorn, who directed us to the same Stonehenge replica we entered, all those years ago. I found the crested stone and pushed the symbol into the rock. The secret marble door rose from the ground, but there was one dissimilarity; the tarantula, Mantra, who posed as the guardian for the Divided High Grounds, was scratched off the black stone. His scheme was foiled, and the beast was banished to Maylok.

  A fitting place for a creature of the dark, I thought.

  My grizzly friend asked whether he could join us one last time, but alas, his priority rested with Eve; without an heir to the throne, the animals had looked to Bjorn, and he was more than capable to take on the responsibility.