Meghan and Colin gasped. The stone seats in the amphitheater started to shift, tilting backwards so they were gazing upward at the sky.
“I love that part,” said Jae, with a chuckle.
“A little warning would have been nice,” grumbled Meghan.
Colin was too enthralled to care.
A voice began speaking. It was not the little boy, but that of an experienced storyteller.
“That’s Balloch Flummer, owns the bookstore,” whispered Jae.
“The voyage was underway,” Balloch started. “Three ships across a vast ocean: the Freedom, the Malden, and the Albion.”
The night sky lit up with silhouettes of three ghostly looking ships, floating across as if sailing through the stars.
“These great ships held a people with hope in their hearts as they sailed to a new world, waiting across the great Atlantic.”
The audience cheered madly as a ghostly crew worked the ships.
“We’re watching a movie,” sent Meghan to her brother. “On, like, the biggest screen ever!”
“Finally, a history lesson even you can handle.”
She did not reply to his retort, and watched the sky as the narrator continued.
“Our ships sailed for many days when a rainless storm erupted from the depths of the ocean.” As he spoke, the scene in the sky changed; the ships began to rock violently with wind and waves ravaging them.
“Our magic began to weaken and the protection surrounding the great ships failed.”
A massive eruption took place in the sky; the magical field that surrounded the ships dissolved. “As our protection failed and our magic weakened, we were hunted by ancient enemies.”
Two gigantic birds, with wingspans as wide as a ship, soared into the sky, and boos wafted through the attentive Svoda crowd below.
“The Shrieker birds shrill cries alerted their allies that the hunt for our ships was over, and thus, the battle began. The Freedom, the largest of the three ships, was the first to fall under attack. Their enemy came from below the water.”
The sky changed again. Underneath the ship Freedom, two great snake-like heads emerged, one on each side of the ships hull.
“The Freedom’s crew fought the beast. However, the weakening spells of the crew were no match for the Amphivena’s knife-like scales and tailless body.”
Overhead, the Amphivena tied its heads together, wrapping itself around the ship, preparing to crush the mighty hull.
“While the Freedom fought,” Balloch spoke on, “the second ship, the Malden, was assaulted by the Salt Spiders, the crawlers of the sea.”
Hairless, web-legged fiends the color of the ocean began hurtling themselves on board the ship. Lying flat, the salt spiders looked like malevolent doilies skimming the water’s surface; jagged harpoons covered their thin legs, ready to launch at their enemies.
“The Freedom and the Malden remained under heavy attack,” continued the Retelling. “Two were already dead on the Freedom, and one crew member had been knocked overboard on the Malden, only to be viciously murdered by the Salt Spiders.”
The audience’s attention was given to the third boat, so the twins joined, assuming that the Albion was next. The voice began again as the battle raged on overhead.
“The Albion watched helplessly as their sister ships were assaulted, and kept watch around their own ship, waiting for what was inevitably to come.”
The great ship Albion lurched upward with no warning, its hull nearly cracking under the pressure of the movement. A voice echoed down out of the sky, from one of the crewmembers on the ship. “We’re being hit from below! They’ll tear us to shreds.”
“Surfacing under the Albion were the Slopikes,” explained Balloch, “whose jagged spikes impaled the wooden ship. Their shells are indestructible. No spell can penetrate them.”
The Slopikes were a slow but deadly force. The scene in the sky was chaos; three ships in great peril. The Shrieker Birds dove between the ships, knocking people overboard, where they would meet their doom, if not by the raging water itself, by the Amphivena, Salt Spiders, or the Slopikes.
“Exhausted and losing faith, the ships and their crews resorted to their final energy reserves: belts stocked with potions and stored magic. When all hope seemed lost, the raging winds subsided. The waves stopped crashing and the rainless storm dissolved, replaced by precious calm. Whatever magic was used to create the storm had weakened, unable to hold its spell any longer. Without the storm absorbing all the magical energy around them, the crew found their strength renewed.”
The audience cheered on the ground below.
“With great effort and sacrifice, they began regaining control of their ships. Three men and two women on board the Freedom attacked the Amphivena together, shooting a spell that would cause any normal man to wither and die. The crushing beast released its grip on the ship and faded into the depths of the ocean. The Freedom raced to the aid of the nearby Malden, infested with Salt Spiders. Many people on board had been captured and rendered helpless, having been bound in seaweed-like cocoons. With no known spell to repel the spiders, the enemy began claiming the Freedom as well.”
Balloch Flummer paused, beginning again in a lowered, dramatic voice.
“In our most dire moment, a young man fighting on the Freedom found himself backed into a corner with nowhere to hide. The spider launched a harpoon at the young man, missing him, but breaking open a barrel of fresh drinking water, washing away the salt water on the ship’s deck. The spider recoiled, clearly in pain. Realizing instantly what this meant, the young man ran through the ship shouting, ‘Fresh water! Use fresh water!’”
Balloch’s voice rang exuberantly as he continued.
“With hope returned, cries of Viridatas, the spell to turn salt water into fresh, were overheard by the nearby Malden and they urgently began to do the same. Soon, they forced the Salt Spiders back into the ocean, their webbed legs spinning their way across the calming waters. The cocoons were cut down and the people freed.”
The audience shouted cheers at the sky.
“One ship remained under attack,” the storyteller reminded. “The Albion. The Shriekers, seeing their allies fail, broke off their attack, soaring into the rising sun. No longer hearing the birds call, the Slopikes ended their rampage on the Albion, and swam into the depths. The damage to the Albion was severe. Half the ship remained under water. The great ship was lost. Sinking.”
The narrator took a break from speaking and the scene in the night sky changed to the Freedom and the Malden racing to aid the sinking Albion.
“The Albion knew their beloved ship was lost. The Freedom and Malden approached, lowering their boats to save the remaining passengers of the Albion, whose own boats had already been released into the waters - boats which were nowhere to be found.”
Balloch paused in somber remembrance before his lamentation continued.
“The Albion sank, taking twenty souls who lost their lives during the battle, down to the depths with her.”
The audience went quiet, except for the sniffles of saddened Svoda. The narrator began again and the scene above changed.
“The two remaining ships searched in vain for the four boats released from the Albion. It was believed they carried over sixty survivors. They found no sign that the boats had survived the battle, and after the third day... the search was called off.”
The storyteller’s voice broke up as he continued.
“A mass funeral was held in respect for those lost during the battle. Four hundred and forty-four remained alive, with over a hundred missing and presumed dead.”
A long minute of silence took place as the Svoda paid their respects to their brave ancestors. Then, the scene above morphed from gloomy darkness to brightly sunlit skies, and the remaining ships sailed onward to their new home.
“What do you think so far, Sis?” asked Colin, overwhelmed by the story.
“I can’t believe we’re sitting outside under the sky, wa
tching an action packed movie.” She instantly sensed Colin’s anger rising. “Don’t worry, Col, I get the point. I just don’t understand why they’d want to relive such a depressing story, year after year.”
They tuned into the narrator.
“The Freedom and the Malden arrived at their new home eight days later, battered and beaten, but not broken. A few settlers, who had arrived months before, waited on shore, alongside our Native American allies, the Tunkapog.”
“Now you had to hear that!” exclaimed Colin loudly into her mind.
“Tunkapog. Did he say Tunkapog? Kanda is a Tunkapog,” was all Meghan could manage to send back.
“The arrival was bittersweet,” the story continued. “The two arriving ships made port, and the crew explained their nightmarish journey. The arriving settlers dauntingly moved into their new homes. Homes built by those that had arrived before them, along with the aid of the Tunkapog, who remain to this day, one of our greatest and longest allies.”
“Okay, this is too much,” said Meghan, accidentally aloud. She instantly tried to shrink in her stone seat as glares and shushing ensued, including an extremely rotten look from Ivan Crane. But she couldn’t easily explain it was shock, not disdain or boredom that caused her outburst.
After the crowd turned their attention back toward the skies, Colin sent her, “Good one, Sis. Does this mean Kanda knew the Svoda? Did she know we were from a magical family?”
Meghan did not reply.
The story drew them back in.
“By the end of the first day the ships were emptied. The Tunkapog set out to prepare a feast for the weary travelers. Their knowledge of herbs and flowers not only tasted magnificent after the mundane foods of the journey, but eased the settlers’ pain, too.”
“Hm,” huffed Meghan. “No wonder I always felt so good after drinking Kanda’s tea.”
Balloch continued. “The Retelling will conclude tonight with the same speech given by Nethaniel Bedgewood at the end of that first feast.”
A new voice filled the night sky.
‘I am humbled to be amongst friends. We are forever in debt to our new neighbors, the Tunkapog, for their help these many months in preparing our new home, and for tonight, this needed and gracious feast. I am also delighted to learn that we were able to cure the Tunkapog from the fatal disease brought here by bad magic.
‘To my fellow settlers, I have also made the decision that from this day forth, in memory of our journey, and those lost to us, that this day each year we will hold such a feast. It will be called Thanksgiving, a day to remember and give thanks for what friends and blessings remain.’
He toasted the entire group, which filled the massive beach. Cheers and cries returned the toast.
‘If I could have your attention, one last time,’ Nethaniel spoke. ‘I have made another decision, one that affects us all. Now that we have a home, I feel it is only fitting that we also have a name.’
Full attention was on Nethaniel Bedgewood as he spoke, from the audience in the sky, and on the ground below.
‘From this day forth, as an endless reminder of the peace each and every one of us strive for, we shall be known as the Svoda, the People of Light.’”
The crowd in the scene roared, along with the crowd watching on the ground below. The scene above began to fade and the sky once again became dark and starless, as a light snow began to fall over them all. The stone chairs shifted back into normal sitting position, the lanterns reigniting once again, and the crowd began to disperse. Much more somberly than it had started.
Ivan tilted his head toward Meghan. “Not what you expected was it?”
Can he speak any other language other than smug? “You talking to me?” she replied just as snidely.
“I was simply noting the fact that you did not think this would be worth your time.” He got up and left, leaving a speechless Meghan, for the second time that night.
Colin and Jae swore they saw steam bursting from her ears, and after a tense minute, she finally mustered out the words, “I hate that boy.”
They filed out of the amphitheater.
Sheila leaned her head on Irving’s shoulder as they walked home. He held her arm tightly in one hand and grasped his daughters in the other. Jae walked behind alongside the twins. Ivan sauntered strode a few steps behind them.
Meghan would have bet he was watching her, and she wanted to turn around and throw something at him. She picked up her pace, Colin and Jae followed.
“Wasn’t that incredible?” he exclaimed to the twins.
“It was pretty wild,” agreed Meghan.
“Banon Blackwell stores up extra magic all year for that,” Jae said.
Colin had questions he wanted to ask, but Meghan cut him off.
“This is not the place, Col, we better wait.”
They slowed. Meghan noticed Ivan had fallen behind. He appeared to be ensconced in his own private conversation, paying no attention to them now. Irving, Sheila and Mireya were far ahead now.
They pulled their jackets snugly around themselves. The November night was chilly. The snow wasn’t heavy enough to stick, it melted before it hit the ground, or right after.
Just before they reached the final turn to the Mochrie cottage, the trio found their path blocked. They froze, uncertain what to do.
“So, Mr. Jacoby, do you have what I asked for?” It was Darcy. She was alone this time though. Minus her two counterparts.
“No. I- I have nothing for you,” he stuttered in reply.
“Well well well... going to be some trouble brewing, isn’t there?” She raised her hand as if about to use a spell on them; the three gasped and ducked as Darcy shrieked with laughter and scurried away.
“Is it possible,” thundered Meghan through clenched teeth, “to go just one stinking day without having a problem around here?”
“What kind of problem?” It was Ivan, looking rather superior (so Meghan thought at least).
Jae answered. “Just Darcy Scraggs. Been hassling us a lot lately.”
“What about?”
“Oh, no one thing really. More like our general ability to exist.”
“Sounds like good ‘ole Darcy. Good luck with that.” He sauntered off, losing interest.
“That was too close,” said Jae, relieved. “On too many counts. Darcy isn’t giving up. And I don’t know what Ivan would do if he found out about you guys, the Magicante, or what Darcy did.”
“And I don’t intend to find out,” said Meghan, incensed. “As far as I’m concerned, Ivan Crane can just fall off the face of the planet!”
Colin and Jae tossed each other an amused gaze, watching Meghan storm off toward home. They followed and once inside, got out of their warm jackets. Jae hit at Colin’s arm. He looked up and followed Jae’s gaze... there was an odd scene unraveling.
Irving, Sheila and Mireya were bending over the basement door, their ears glued to the floor. The others joined them.
“Is that knocking?” asked Jae.
“Corny?” questioned Sheila.
Irving bent over to open the door. The others stepped back, waiting as the door creaked open, but nothing happened. They leaned in closer, when out of the musty darkness below a wrinkled hand pushed up through. It held a piece of paper. Jae grabbed it and Corny’s hand disappeared; they could hear the sandpaper shuffle as his shoes skidded across the basement floor, back to his corner.
“I think this is for you, Colin,” mused Jae with a low chuckle.
He grabbed it. The drawing was identical to the others.
“That’s four now,” counted Meghan. “You totally have a new best friend,” she teased.
“Whatever,” he snapped back.
Ivan’s eyes combed over the page from the top of the stair; he took a fleeting glance at Colin before disappearing into his room.
“How strange,” said Sheila. “He does appear to have taken a liking to the boy.”
“That’s good, for Corny,” replied Irving. They shield
ed their laughter, disappearing into the kitchen.
LATER, UPSTAIRS, MEGHAN told Jae they had some questions for him. They waited impatiently for Mireya to fall asleep. Once she was soundly sleeping, Jae motioned for them climb up to the loft. The twins eagerly followed. Jae opened the small door to the hidden crawl space and they crawled inside. After two feet, they entered a square room, which was tall enough only to sit in.
“We need to talk softly, but it’s safe,” he said, lighting a candle. Colin’s heart raced. He felt as though he were passing along dark secrets to a spy, and as he thought that, he realized it was somewhat true.
“I’ve never figured out what this room was built for,” said Jae, “but it sure is handy tonight.”
Colin’s curiosity got the better of him and he assaulted Jae with questions about the Retelling.
“That was an unbelievable story, Jae. Do those enemies still exist? Have you ever seen them? I can’t believe there are scarier things out there than Scratchers.”
“I can’t say for sure that they do,” answered Jae. “But our real enemy does; the one who actually ordered those creatures to take down our ships.”
“Who is that?” asked Colin.
“The Grosvenor,” replied Jae. “Immortal beings,” he explained in a low whisper.
“That sort of thing exists?” muttered Colin.
“Unfortunately. Do you remember when I told you, back in Cobbscott, that magic was almost wiped out a long time ago? The Grosvenor are responsible for the battle that caused that. They even killed off their own kind, it didn’t matter to them.”
“Their own kind?” questioned Meghan.
“Vetala. Otherwise known as Vampyres. Not Vampyres in the sense of what your world thinks of them. They don’t suck blood. What they do is just as monstrous though. They can suck the life force out of any living thing,” Jae told them.
“And the Grosvenor still hunt you?” asked Colin.
“Yes, and if they get the opportunity, they will destroy all magic but their own.”
“You mean they want to take over the world kind-a-thing,” Meghan confirmed.
“On the bright side though, even in all the years since that battle, they have not succeeded.”
Fated Fantasy Adventure Page 36