Crocodile Queen

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Crocodile Queen Page 7

by Phil Armstrong


  Her eyes were suddenly drawn to the foggy shape that billowed before her; it was changing, morphing before her eyes into a solid shape that formed a body, dressed in familiar clothing. Within seconds, the Crocodile Queen could have been looking into a mirror, as she recognized the pretty girl in a golden dress staring back at her, "There is a Ninth Realm, and many more realms that you’re clearly unaware of. We should sit for a while, don’t you think, as we have much to discuss."

  The Crocodile Queen shot a worried look in Kaan’s direction wondering who and what this thing was inviting her to talk. Kaan jumped to attention pulling out a chair for the spiritual being. Atheria took a seat, her new form shimmering as it changed instantly to a taller, slender woman, with Nordic features and long blonde hair, "The Ninth Realm is a spiritual realm. It comprises of complex energies that make it difficult for physical beings like yourself, to understand. I know that you have gifts beyond your physical form, but our realm, and the beings that inhabit it, all have these capabilities. Your concept of time does not exist for us, we can see into the future and the past. Neither exists for us. I'm here for a reason Rose," hearing her name jolted her to attention; it made her eyes narrow with distrust. "I'm here to help you, and you know what Elora will do to those inexperienced kids. I sense your frustration, and the self-loathing that you harbor deep in the pit of your stomach, yet you can’t leave this place for it would certainly leave the Sixth Realm vulnerable to attack, with you, its primary guardian gone." Rose recoiled at the honesty of her words being positioned for her consideration. She knew it was the truth, and she was racked with guilt, she’d thrown two inexperienced kids to the wolves, or worse.

  Sensing Rose's awkward body language, Kaan stepped forward, "This is where Atheria can help you," he offered nervously.

  Atheria’s physical form shriveled, whirled, and swirled into a distracting, undulating wave of smoke, with no face or form. Her voice could still be heard, "Without your help, Dan and Ally will both undoubtedly die at the hands of Elora, a primitive protection spell will only work for so long. Without your help Rose, Kaan will likely be killed by these evil forces, and you my dear, my precious lady that holds so much potential, you will be mutilated, killed in the most savage way possible, by the evilest of spirits. Your castle will be leveled, those magnificent beasts that swim in the river outside, will all be boiled alive and sadly this realm will be lost to evil. I don’t say this to shock you, or to threaten you, I hate being the bearer of this bad news, but it’s simple fact, inevitable." Atheria paused for effect, she let the sullen harsh words sink in, and wash over Rose.

  "You need to fight, you must use your powers and your intellect, you cannot resist or hesitate if you want to save everything that is dear to you, there are larger things at stake; I come here reluctantly, for it places myself, and my kind, in great danger. Being a spiritual creature of energy and light, I’m connected to the whole of my realm, if I were to be captured by Elora, she could penetrate our entire realm, and yet my elders sanctioned my visit here for the good of your realm. Kaan is a dear friend to our kind, we don't want to see him killed."

  Rose glanced at Kaan trying to gauge his reaction, his face remained stoic, "Elora is a really nasty piece of work, she grows more powerful, each day. You have no choice Rose; you must protect those kids, your mission will become clear, I can see visions ahead for you and you must help them."

  Rose rubbed her tired eyes, the swirling shape before her was making her dizzy, "But what about my realm and everything we've fought so hard to protect?"

  The fog stopped swirling, settling into a mirror image of herself, "I will stay here in your place, I will protect your realm and carry out your duties, keeping the calm while you’re gone. Rose, you will need to change back to your original form, your adult form, and help these kids. Help us all. If you don't, fear and selfishness, will have far reaching consequences for all of us, across many realms."

  Hearing her own voice emanating from her own mirror image shook her to the core, she found herself nodding, "Yes, I understand, I’ll help them, and protect them."

  "I have one last message for you Rose. When you go to them, your mission will become clear, remember, I see things in your future, but the future is never cast in stone. Like a river, its flow can be redirected around the obstacles placed in its way. With a strong will, and a targeted intervention, the future and its consequences will change, I guess it's up to you. Sitting here moping around your deserted castle will not change what will become an inevitable end. Rose, you must go and make us all proud, have faith in yourself and the intellect and potential of the young white witch."

  They talked for a while longer before Kaan left for the monastery. Soon after, a reluctant Rose left Crescent Island to find Dan and Ally, leaving her castle and her realm in the promise of Atheria's safe protection. Rose would return to Earth, the Fifth Realm, worried about the prospect of a prolonged visit this time.

  * * * * *

  The Third Realm - Haitden

  Chapter 5: The Stranger.

  The Monastery of Light, Haitden.

  “I have often depended on the blindness of strangers.”

  It was early evening as the crisp bright sunlight streamed across the frigid skies illuminating the mountains of Haitden, as wispy clouds sailed by hovering momentarily at their peaks. The Monastery of Light was safely concealed within the highest mountain peak, home to over fifty monks of the highest order. One narrow path, cut into the side of the sheer stone face of the mountain, led ominously to the monastery's heavily fortified entrance. The cold wind howled with such ferocity that a strong man's violent screams would not be heard.

  Kaan returned to the Monastery, settling into his quarters for the evening. His mind raced through the day’s events, Atheria's ominous warning still bothering him deeply. A loud bang at his door, coupled with the sound of raised voices, meant something was wrong; his curiosity led him into the great hall surrounded by other monks, "What's happening?" he inquired, grabbing a monk by the arm.

  "I don't know Kaan, I think someone's at the main gate," shouted the monk pulling his arm free.

  "The main gate?" Kaan muttered, allowing his mind to mull over this new information. The weather was brutal outside, it was cold enough to kill any man, the path to the Monastery was long, narrow, treacherous, and winding. In these conditions, no mortal man could approach and navigate a way to this haven provided by the peak of the mountain. Kaan hurried to the front gates, he followed the flow of gathering monks. He stopped abruptly at the gathering crowd just in front of the main gates, the gate consisted of a set of double wooden doors, clad with black iron hinges, and black reinforced metal studs.

  They all waited patiently, listening to the howling wind outside; there it was again, the unmistakable sound of someone, or something, banging desperately on the wooden doors. Kaan was immediately suspicious, "You - get upstairs quickly at the sentry position above the door and see who, or what, is out there. You," he pointed at another monk standing motionless nearby, "go with him and report back."

  A few monks moved curiously towards the door, Kaan intercepted, "No, wait! Let's see what we're dealing with here first, we don't open this door until we know more."

  The monk’s curious voices could be heard through the door, causing the banging to increase in both frequency and volume. Within minutes the monks reappeared, "It looks like a man, wrapped in fur, bear skins I think. He's slumped against the entrance door and covered in ice, he appears to be alone. We couldn't see anyone for miles down the narrow path, or outside the front doors, he’s alone.”

  Kaan thought quickly, weighing up their options, "Here's the plan, we open the iron gates, then the wooden doors. Let’s grab this fur covered visitor, as quickly as we can, and then take him immediately to the infirmary, we don't know if he's human, sick, infected with the plague, or even if it’s a he? Just get that thing in here quickly and close the doors and the gates behind it. Once it's in here, clear the front court
yard quickly - I don't want any monks exposed if we have an infection."

  Two monks opened the iron gates; they opened one of the large wooden doors. They grabbed the fur-covered stranger as instructed, and pulled it quickly inside, away from the howling wind and penetrating cold. A large framed man slid across the stone floor, slumped in a heap through sheer exhaustion, and shivering from the intense cold. "Quickly, get him downstairs and isolated, but be careful!" barked out Kaan hurriedly. "The rest of you, for your own safety, clear the area - now!"

  Kaan followed the strange visitor to the infirmary, he was cautious of any attack the man might be planning, fortunately he was too cold, and too exhausted from the climb; to be more accurate, he was almost dead from his exertions. His breathing appeared heavy and labored, his beard was badly matted with solid ice, and his many layers of clothes, hoods, and fur skins, were heavy from the weight of the snow and ice. The stranger's face appeared red, blistered, and burned, from the sun, wind, and the searing cold. He could hardly open his eyes, and was unable to speak through his cracked, bleeding, purple lips. This stranger posed no physical threat, for he could hardly stand. The questions that remained unanswered would need to wait; where did he come from? Why was he here? How did he manage that climb? Was he infected with anything and would he manage to recover?

  Kaan watched intensely as the monks carefully peeled away his heavy frozen layers, inspecting him for wounds. They discovered a leather bag strapped to his body. It contained food items such as nuts, seeds, and a small piece of hard frozen bread. A square object was carefully placed inside the bag; it was bound in a leather cover and tied together with a thin leather strap. Kaan opened the object expecting to find a book. The leather outer cover fell away revealing a rather plain book jacket made from discolored brown leather. He opened the book and glanced at the elaborately written text within. He expected a journal, or perhaps an account of events, something personal. Instead, he found a book of hymns, some new, some common, some old. This was clearly the monk's song book.

  Disappointed that the book offered no additional clues to the stranger’s almost fatal quest, Kaan glanced at the stranger, his labored breathing stopped abruptly. A weird calmness seemed to fall upon the room, no words were spoken, but all the monks had stopped attending to the visitor. One of the monks turned to Kaan and shook his head, lowering his eyes he whispered, "He's gone Kaan, bless his poor frozen soul, he’s gone."

  Kaan placed the book carefully next to the man's body, "I think he was a monk, he carries no money, no weapons, and a small bag of food, and this, a simple book of hymns." Kaan bent over the dead man's weathered face, "What were you doing here? What were you trying to tell us?" Kaan felt a hand on his shoulder.

  "I guess we'll never know, that bag was the only thing he had with him, it was all that he carried," said the monk shaking his head.

  Kaan rubbed his chin thoughtfully; "This makes no sense to me, why would a monk be out there, all alone, in weather like this? I want you to keep his body in isolation, and make sure it’s locked away for now, until we know it’s safe."

  Kaan inspected the man's fur clothing closely, they appeared to be primitively made and he thought they looked like fur from a black bear, uncommon in these parts. After a couple of days, the inhabitants of the monastery started to feel relief, the stranger was not infected with any communal disease, his body was prepared and burned in a ceremony where his ashes were returned to the wind. The Monastery was a refuge, designed for only the most gifted of monks, a school to prepare and hone their unique talents through meditation, prayer, inner reflection, and chanting. The monks selected this path of enlightenment and dedicated their lives to a higher cause, and the fight against eternal darkness. This extreme discipline could get repetitive and boring, to provide some variety, in the evening hours the monks would gather in the large stone room, a room with thick protective stone walls, and a solid stone roof providing amazing natural acoustics. This is where they would gather to drink, tell stories, and sing hymns to pass the time.

  Upon further inspection, the visitor’s hymn book contained familiar songs from the monk’s well-rehearsed repertoire. Towards the front of the book, three songs in, was a new song, the monks were excited to sing a song they hadn’t seen before. Two nights after the visitor had passed away, the lyrics and harmonies of a new song reverberated joyfully around the stone room, which amplified its magnificence. The atmosphere felt relaxed, it was filled with fun, good ale, laughter, and cheer. Kaan was not a particularly talented singer, but the home brewed ale helped him shed his inhibitions, filling the night with song, it helped to build a strong bond between the monks confined within their mountain home.

  It was a good night, a fun night, where the monks had enjoyed themselves singing a new song, and plenty of familiar ones, while keeping warm in front of a roaring fire. The lyrics seemed innocent enough, but the accompanying music, played on reed instruments by a couple of musically gifted monks, resembled nothing they were familiar with. The sweet melodies were hypnotic, the rise and fall of the notes were almost trance like. Kaan swayed his head gently to the music as the monks sung the new song from the leather book.

  Deep in the lower level of the monastery, the sweet music swirled through the corridors and halls of the frigidly cold building. The music washed through the rooms like the incoming tide. Once the music had echoed into a small room adjacent to the infirmary, it swirled around the black bear skins hung carefully upon metal hooks anchored into the exterior stone wall. The stranger's body had been burned, and reduced to ashes, but in such a cold place the luxury of bear skins should not be wasted. The monks decided to keep the furs, they would prove useful for the extreme colder nights that lay ahead.

  A night of song in front of a warming fire had seemed like a good idea, but a trap had been expertly set. The fur had been identified as black bear, but the fur was from a Bayerhold, a significantly larger bear-like creature emanating from the second realm. Larger than a Karcon, this ferocious beast proved to be a willing servant for its masters in the dark underworld. Elora herself, transforming these creatures almost to the point of death, had expertly cast a powerful ancient spell. Their mutated, flattened, lifeless bodies, would be roused by this enchanting spell activated so deviously by the captivating music contained in the new song.

  The metal hooks supporting the furs began to buckle then snapped trying to support their weight; the furs undulated uncontrollably as they filled out with bone, flesh, and muscle. Heads, snouts, claws, teeth, and eyes, started to emerge as the animals began to take their original form. Two massive creatures emerged from the fur resembling a cross between a wolf and an oversized bear.

  Kaan had been suspicious of the strange visitor and his strange appearance at the entrance to the monastery. He couldn't reconcile his uneasy feeling, which seemed to settle heavily in his gut, and never moved. He knew that something wasn't right, it just didn't make sense, and it continued to bother him that he couldn't solve this puzzle. The monks were all having a good time when it suddenly became clear to him, the hymn book. He couldn't explain his overwhelming urge to inspect the hymn book, but he knew it had been delivered to the monastery for a reason, a reason so important that a man was willing to die for it.

  The stranger carried nothing else of any importance, so why hang onto a hymn book? Perhaps the clues were written in the songs? Perhaps the songs told a story? Perhaps the construction of the book hid secrets yet to be discovered? Kaan couldn't stop himself; he needed to look at the book more closely. His urge was overpowering, and his curiosity had grown where he leapt from his slumped comfortable position, to make his way to the front of the stone room, where the book had been placed upon a wooden sermon podium.

  The monks laughed, clearly in good spirits, while enjoying the evening with the welcoming warmth oozing from the oversized hearth on this bitterly cold night. Kaan walked slowly towards the book, trying to disguise his intent with his calm casual movements. The swirling sound of
the last song had activated the beasts growing in strength below, but it also activated the book itself. The book held a dastardly spell, an additional spell designed to attract Kaan, it delivered to him an irresistible compulsion to move towards the book. Kaan rationalized this overwhelming feeling with his thirst to understand the niggling mystery of the visitor. Kaan was unaware that he’d been hooked, captured by a spell from a high-ranking witch, designed to drive a man uncontrollably towards an object or a person.

  Kaan moved silently, positioning himself behind the book, before approaching the wooden sermon pulpit, he stopped momentarily to survey the room before him. Monks seemed to be happy, laughing, and talking within small groups. They consumed the homemade ale and occasionally moved closer to the warmth provided by the roaring fire. It was a relaxed scene, a perfect opportunity for Kaan to casually inspect the book without drawing a lot of attention to himself or his increased scrutiny. Kaan laughed along at a clever joke, he slumped upon the podium using it to casually support his weight. He bowed his head and slowly opened the book reading the first page. The back flap of the book’s jacket had a raised square just above the edge of the leather spine. It faced downwards towards the wooden podium and was hidden from Kaan’s view by the parchment pages of the book. Kaan moved his hand to support the book's weight and flipped another page to review the next hymn. The raised bump located on the back of the book started to undulate; a small tear appeared in the thick leather binding. Oblivious, Kaan continued to read the hymns as a pair of small black spindly legs forced the tear open like an insect emerging from a leather cocoon. A small spider emerged, black legs first, followed by a shiny black body with two yellow dots emblazoned upon its back. The spider knew exactly what to do, it had waited patiently, suspended in animation for this task. It pushed its body free from the restraints of its leather pod and crawled quickly along the back of the book’s spine heading straight for Kaan's hand.

 

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