by C. J. Strong
“You two won’t know the Eternal Lands from Márn country if I don’t come along to help. I may be old, but these bones haven’t served the Niffs for nearly 750 years only to leave the fate of our people in the hands of the likes of you,” Uriella smiled and said.
“I’ve done it once, and I can do it again Uriella,” Andrum said with his hands on his hips.
“The Sacred Scroll was located in the ancient Temple of Verdum, just within the border of the Eternal Lands. In order to get the answers we seek we must travel directly into the heart of the heavens and aim for Xurion’s Pyramid,” Uriella said as she calmly searched for another book.
Styir spoke up after much thought. “It’s settled then! Our people need us once more so we must answer the call. We will make it there, together,” He said.
“No, Styir. We must go this path without you I’m afraid. One of us has to stay here and lead our people,” Andrum said.
“But sir, you…” Styir said before being interrupted.
“Like you said, our people need us. I should’ve done this a long time ago, but I’ll do it now. As Head of the Magniffs I name you as my successor,” Andrum yelled. “I may have made some questionable decisions in the past, but by my father’s name this is the right one!”
“Magnificent! Here here to the new Head,” Ashurd said, starting to celebrate by pulling out a flask full of ale and chugging it.
Uriella quickly clubbed Ashurd in the back of the head with a book. “How dare you, this is the sacred Archives Room! No one is allowed to drink ale in here.”
Andrum laughed at the antics of his colleagues and quickly chimed in, “As my final act as Head, I pardon him from his crimes Miss Uriella.”
The three of them then laughed as a heavy burden fell upon Styir. He thought to himself momentarily before speaking. “I’ll only accept the responsibility as Head…” he paused. “If instead I take up the mantle of Interim Head until you return from your journey Andrum.”
“It’s a deal,” Andrum said as he snatched the flask from Ashurd’s hands and toasted. “To Styir! Let him guide our people from poverty to prosperity.”
“Well said. Now let us make arrangements for the journey…” the new Head of the Magniffs said with his mind already starting to plan accordingly.
Chapter 4
Gallagher awoke, finding himself in a hay stack. He crawled out and looked around only to see an unfamiliar place. “Ugh… it stinks of animals in here,” He said. At least that ass-face Trevor isn’t around anymore, Gallagher thought as he wandered out of a large red barn.
“Back to work you maggots!” a voice yelled to sounds of a whip cracking.
Where the hell am I? He looked around for something familiar, spotting the herd of cows stampeding towards him just in time. Dashing out of the way, “Watch it!”
“Hey, who goes there?” the same voice as before asked.
Gallagher could hear footsteps coming from the other side of the barn and fled before he could be caught trespassing on whoever’s property this was, wherever he was. Running into a nearby field seemed like the best option so he did. He followed the sound of running water and made his way to a nearby stream. He kneeled down, put his hands in the river, twirled them all about, and then splashed some water in his face. A sense of relief came over him as he rolled up his tattered high water pants and sunk his feet into the cold breezy water.
A lightbulb went off in his head. That’s right! he thought as he felt around his stitched together sweatshirt pocket. He pulled the book out and in a sigh he said to himself, “This thing blinded me and nearly killed me,” he paused and then chucked it downstream and watched as it floated away in the current. “Sorry Old Man Dave, but that book you gave me was nothing but trouble. I have no idea how I even got here, or where I am for that matter, but I’ll survive.”
After dipping his toes in the river for several minutes, Gallagher relaxed and laid back into the dirt. “I sure wish I had that taken the bread that the old fart offered me though. I sure could use it,” He said as he began to doze off and the sun set behind him. Gallagher had never been outside of Los Angeles before, and had no idea what the country was like, but he enjoyed the peacefulness.
Gallagher opened his eyes quite some time later, finding himself in yet another new environment. He woke up with chains wrapped around his arms and legs, binding him to a wooden plank in front of him. The entire room shook continuously as if they were in a vehicle of some kind, and he could feel the wheels below him turning as they were pulled one direction and then another. Gallagher could only surmise that he had somehow been captured, but for what reason he was still unsure. “Great, now where the hell am I?” he said as he raised his head up from the floor just before one of the wheels caught a rock and shook the convoy. A baby began to cry towards the front of the vehicle that caught Gallagher’s attention.
“How’d they catch you?” the man said as he caught the boys gaze. The man was filthy and covered in tattered clothes which were in even worse shape than Gallagher’s.
Gallagher just stared at him for a moment pondering if one of the man’s eyes was fake, but couldn’t tell on account of how cross eyed the man was.
“Well... are you mute boy?” he said.
One of the few things that Gallagher was taught in school was proper manners, and felt it necessary to introduce himself to everyone. “The names Gally, what’s yours mister?” Gallagher said as he attempted to reach out his hand before the slack in his chains ran out.
“I said, how did they catch ya boy!?” the man began again, raising his voice even louder.
“Hey, it’s rude not to introduce yourself before asking personal questions. Didn’t yo momma ever teach you any manners? …and quit staring at me, bug eyes!” Gallagher could feel the fear and anger rising up in him. Where was he? Who was this man? Where were they going? He wished now that he hadn’t thrown the book away—maybe it had the key to getting him back to real life. He looked up and saw the bug-eyed man leering at him and his fists clenched. As he thrust himself in the man’s direction, the chains held him back. He’d forgotten they were there.
Momentarily distracted from his fellow prisoner by the baby starting up its wail again, Gallagher turned toward it and the woman he assumed was its mother, who was clearly too exhausted to even bother trying to console it. Was she a prisoner, too? What did she know?
The man turned his attention from Gallagher to the baby and then back again. “Yep, definitely fake,” Gally said to himself as he watched the man’s left eye rattle a little from moving back and forth so rapidly.
The sound of clucking hoofs outside slowed and the carriage gradually came to a halt. A behemoth of a man stomped over to the doorway of the caravan and pulled back the curtains. He had a claw mark stretching from his neck to the cheek of his face and appeared to Gallagher to be of Latin decent. He let out a belch as he stuck his keys into the cage door unlocking it. The aroma around the man spread reeking of rotten food and other horrendous odors, far worse than the old man or Gallagher was used to. “Time to start the show!” he said before burping. He slammed the bars open and tossed the keys to the broken down man across from Gallagher. “If either of you try to run, yar dead meat… and I warn you, I’m pretty hungry.”
Gallagher smiled and nodded in approval. “Hi, what’s your name?” he said as the prisoner across from him hurried to finish getting out of his shackles. As intimidated as Gallagher was, putting on a front seemed to be the perfect defense mechanism against such a man. Just stay calm, and stay strong, he repeated in his head.
“A comedian I see. Well funny boy, the names Thrix the Mauler. Now hurry up and get out before I grow impatient,” The brute yelled. The stumbling man looked back and forth between the mother and Gallagher and then quickly tossed them back to her, smacking the baby in the face with the keys.
“Nice going Glass Eye,” Gallagher said as Thrix laughed uncontrollably.
“Careful harming the merchandise! Now hop o
ut here peasant,” Thrix said as the scared man started to crawl out before he could even finish his sentence. Gallagher lost focus after the word ‘merchandise’, could this really be happening? As the mother in the back struggled with juggling both calming her baby and undoing her shackles, the man got out and was quickly shoved to the ground. “Wait there…” Thrix said as he thought of a nickname for the man. “…Glass Eye. I like it,” He said. The mother began to climb out and gently handed the keys to Gallagher. “You like your nick name Glass Eye?” Thrix said before backhanding him.
“Ye- Yes Mauler Sir,” The man said while still recovering from the blow.
Such brutality and violence, and for what purpose? Gallagher questioned while fumbling with the keys to unlock his restraints. He decided that if there was ever a time to escape, now would be the time before he ended up being beaten like the man in front of him, or worse.
“Rhateral question you moron!” the beast yelled as he reached into his back pocket for a whip. Gallagher, after slipping out of his bondage, leapt out from the caravan flying past Thrix and grabbing his whip from behind.
“It’s Rhetorical, you moron,” Gally said as he took the whip and cracked Thrix across the face with it. His face turned back around from the concussive blow, and smiled a black tooth grin.
“I love it when they fight,” Thrix said as he charged full force at Gallagher and tackled him to the ground. “Didn’t anybody ever warn you that your mouth was gonna get you into trouble one day!” he said as he drooled over the young boy, pinning Gallagher’s head to the ground, and then grabbing a large rock.
Awwh man, this is finally it, Gallagher thought as he turned his head and closed his eyes.
“Thrix, you kill that boy and you owe me 800 Zorgos,” A voice said. Gallagher turned and opened his eyes to see a tall and skinny man step out from the driver’s seat of the caravan.
“But boss, he’s just begging for it,” Thrix said as he started to loosen his grip on the boy.
Still thinking about what the monster laying on top of him had said before, Gallagher decided it was no time to let his life flash before his eyes and so he started to fight back. As soon as Thrix’s hand retracted, he lifted his head up and bit as hard as he could into the beasts arm. After the bitter taste of filth left his mouth, he bucked Thrix and kicked him off.
“Don’t go anywhere now boy. Finders keepers as they say. I found you residin’ over at that crick and snatched you up, that means you’re mine until I ‘cide to sell ya,” The new face said as he casually stepped over the cowering woman and child. “The names Threx, and you belong to me child,” He said.
“Wait… so your name is Threx too? How confusing,” Gallagher said before he stood and dusted off his already filthy clothes, looking towards grabbing the whip in front of him.
“No, the name is Threx. My good fellow over here is Thrix. One must learn the difference,” Threx said. “Thrix, why don’t you be a good lackey and bring that whip to me since clearly I entrusted it to the wrong person.”
With two grown men instead of just one, Gallagher’s chances of escaping had just dropped significantly. He was always crafty, and had been running from people his entire life, but this was one situation where he figured it was better to just sit back and play it safe.
“Yes boss,” Thrix said with his head down as he snatched the whip from the ground and brought it to Threx. Both the beaten down man and mother shook uncontrollably as the monster passed by. “Hey boss… how come we stopped in the middle of nowhere anyhow?”
“Middle of nowhere?” Threx paused as he put the whip into his backside and walked over past the kneeling tattered prisoner and gazed into the distance over the sandy hills. “Maybe to the untrained eye,” he said as he leaned and placed his hand on Glass Eye’s head, using him as a cane. “This here is prime slave territory. Just over them hills lives a Tiltur village run by Valdar the Strong.”
“Valdar the Strong!?” Thrix said as he quickly turned his head to look.
Gallagher put his hand across his forehead squinting past the hills where Threx was looking towards. He didn’t know what kind of village a Tiltur was, but it didn’t sound good.
“Yes, and rumor has it that he pays goood money for Márns,” Threx said.
This caught Glass Eye’s attention, and he pushed his head up from Threx’s hand and grabbed him by the arm. “Please sir… My hands have already been worked to the bone.”
“Sure sounds like a personal problem to me,” Threx said as he jerked his arm away. He then looked down at the sobbing man before he repositioned himself and pushed his foot into the man’s back until he fell face first into the sandy gravel. Gallagher looked back and forth between what was going on there, and the mother who now had tears rolling down her face. She gripped her baby tighter just before Threx began to speak again. “Now we have a bit of a problem here Thrix. Ya see we have a reputation to uphold.”
“We do?” he said.
“Yes, we do. We can’t go selling broken goods to honest Tilturian people. Why, then we might get a bad name,” Threx said as he turned to Thrix before pulling out a gun from his holster. He then gradually pulled the slide back and chambered a round, first pointing it at his colleague and then down in front of him at Glass Eye. Threx started to dig his boot deeper into the man’s back until he heard his face gargle as it baked into the sand. “Do we still have a problem mister ‘too lazy to work’?”
“D-Do it.,” The man mumbled as everyone around him flinched and turned their heads.
A loud blast shot out of the barrel as Threx gently pulled the trigger. He lifted his boot from the corpse and slowly started to holster his weapon. “Man I love this Márn technology! It’s too bad though. I coulda got at least 350 for ‘em.”
“You monster!” Gallagher said as he ran to tackle Threx, but by that time Threx had already lifted the gun back and was now pointing it at him. “Now I’ve lost enough Zorgos for one day. Thrix, deal with him,” He said. Simultaneously he put away his gun and Thrix punched Gallagher from the side, nearly knocking his lights out. “Carry him. Now Miss, let’s get a move on. We’re headed east.”
Gallagher just laid there in the ground as the others continued to speak. He knew that if he got up again, he may be next on the recently deceased list.
“But boss, what about the body?” Thrix asked.
“What about it? We’ll deal with it when we get back. In the meantime just toss it in the back of the caravan. Nobody is going to steal a caged caravan with a dead body in it,” Threx said before whistling at the mother and her child.
The woman slowly got up after watching Thrix drag the corpse away. “Tha-That was my husband you just murdered!” The woman said as she broke her silence, slapping Threx across the face before marching down the sand dunes towards the village with her baby.
“Hmph, it’s too bad we have to sell her. I kinda like that spunk she has,” Threx said has he rubbed his hand across the red mark that she had left.
“What is spank?” Thrix asked.
“Nothing you idiot, now pick up the kid and let’s go.”
Chapter 5
It took about a month for the Magniffs to make the necessary preparations for their journey. First they had to appoint interim members to the council, and many Nifflarians viewed this as a suicide mission, so deciding on who to replace them knowing they may never return was difficult. Although it had been some time since the Infection, supplies were in short demand due to the war and deciding on what to take with them was a challenge. Since Andrum, Ashurd, and Uriella no longer had their conjuring abilities, they debated on whether or not to bring a few remaining conjurers along with them, but ultimately decided that those who are gifted were better needed to protect the city.
Styir was already stepping up as the new Head before they left, devising battle tactics against the Tilturians, and organizing the next Nifflarian Exams. Once every 300 years, the Nifflarian people would hold a ceremony known as the Nifflarian Ex
ams in order to test adolescent conjurers who were ready to take on the responsibilities of adulthood. Those that failed the exams, would be forced to repeat the process in another 300 years after they had matured and honed in on their skills a little more. The only problem was that since the Infection, most had lost their conjuring gifts and were unable to take the exams, and those born after seemed to possess little to no magik at all. This was another controversial issue that Andrum had faced, which was why he was glad he was leaving. He and the council had decided it best to preserve their race by individually pairing each Nifflarian still with their magik with one who had lost their conjuring abilities. The outcome had mixed results, which was just another reason why Andrum was so fired up at the opportunity of getting his peoples gift back.
With the Nifflarian Exams fast approaching, and a war to the north, Andrum felt that it was imperative that he, Ashurd, and Uriella left for their quest as soon as possible. If they were to succeed in returning from the Eternal Lands with a way to restore the Nifflarians’ powers, then their people’s hardships would be no more. Age was never a major factor for Nifflarians, because of their magik, they were able to live well over a thousand years. Since the Infection however, no one was really sure the life expectancy for those without their powers. Uriella was already approaching her 1,000 year old mark when she became sick and then sacrificed her powers, which was what made her such an inspiration.
Regardless of if they returned or not, Andrum, Ashurd, and Uriella were treated like heroes before they left. All of Ulteria held parades in their honor, and the Nifflarian people marched with them as the trio gathered their things and set out on the journey. As the city gates closed behind them, Andrum couldn’t help but feel a small sense of relief. Although I’ll miss Ulteria, at least I won’t have all sorts of responsibilities anymore. The only responsibility I have now is returning home with a way to restore our magik.