Chapter Three - Umahia
Looking out from the Christmas card Nott continued his amazing story…
“After what seemed like an eternity the dark, mysterious figure began speaking. He said, ‘I am Umahia, the Grand Mystic.’ I said nothing – I was far too scared. The shadowy figure continued... ‘You are in what is now called Summerland. Its previous, and rightful name, is Onisha. A terrible wrong has been done to this land, and to all who live in it. You were brought here because we need your help, Nott. I sent that small card to you, it was I who called you here, Nott, and it was I who instilled the Magic and Intrigue that was needed to bring you here - I knew you would come… it is your destiny.’ I was dumbfounded at hearing this, Wot, How could he know me? My thoughts raced, raced as to how and, more importantly, why this strange person needed my help. As you know, Wot, I have always thought of myself as nothing special or out of the ordinary (Wot’s eyes rolled up to heaven on gearing this), so I was at a complete loss as to what use I could possibly be. Moreover, I said it to him, ‘Apart from what you have just told me I know absolutely nothing of your Summerland, or whatever it’s called.’ Rising from his armchair Umahia stood tall, his features more clearly visible. I strained to see whom I was actually talking to; he appeared old, as old if not older than anyone I had ever before seen. As he made his way towards me I cringed at the thought of what he might do. ‘Nott! Do not be afraid,’ he said. ‘We need you. We need you and your friend, Wot. Out of all the millions of people, living on Earth, only you and your friend can help us. We need your help’, he said.”
“Well, I was flabbergasted, Wot, and I screeched, ‘What? Wot! What does he have to do with this?’ Sorry, Wot, but his remark had raised my goat. Moreover, I am ashamed to admit that I continued my ranting all the more, telling him that you had not got the intellect to help yourself let alone an entire population of some strange land. My temper being up gave me the courage to shout, saying that I must have been mad for thinking that you (Wot) had anything to do with all the strange goings-on. Sorry, old buddy, I got a bit carried away, no insult intended.”
“Umahia, ignoring my protestations, was now quite close to me. I studied his appearance, his features, in finer detail. I could not understand how this Mystic man, this Umahia, who looked so incredibly old could also have an appearance of youth, or innocence about him. I had never before come across such a phenomenon, and it intrigued me! He was about six feet in height, of thin build with long black hair, so dark it had a hint of blue about it. His skin, in contrast, was pale but so very wrinkly. He had a long, thin face with sharp features, a long black moustache that curled at the ends and the darkest, bluest eyes you could ever imagine. He was wearing a gown; a cloak might better describe it. It was long; so long, it touched the ground, completely covering his feet. His cloak was so unusual! It appeared to be thick and hardwearing, but also soft and lightweight. It also had a strange 3D appearance to it that I had never seen in any item of apparel, or whatever.”
“When I looked at it, Wot, or rather when I looked into it, the cloak… it projected a vision, or a semblance of… no, wait, perhaps I can describe it more aptly as a vista of the Universe unfolding, before my very eyes. This vision was so beautiful I could have gazed at it forever, but Umahia distracted me, saying, ‘Nott, you and your friend, Wot, you each have a gift which neither of you have yet recognised, let alone developed to its true potential. You are a team – a team in which each one can, and must strengthen the other. These gifts, these abilities you possess were once common, and much used on Earth in days of yore. Nowadays they now hardly ever recognised. Even when they are so obviously present in someone there is no encouragement or development of such talents. However, here in Summerland, or rather Onisha, we still know and understand the powers involved, be they good or bad, from the Light or Darkness. Listen, Nott, I will now tell you a story of how things used to be…’”
“‘Not so long ago all was right, here in Onisha. We had a good life. There was enough for all, be it food, drink, a place to live or whatever. Throughout the entire land, the feeling was one of contentment. Mysticism and Enchantment had always been an integral part of our daily lives, and it was actively encouraged. We had no enemies to speak of; the last war was over five hundred years ago.’”
Looking around the bedroom, Nott spied a stool in the corner, and he said, “Hold on a minute, Wot, I need to get something.” Grabbing hold of the stool (it was a tall one), he placed it in front of the window, and then climbed onto it. “Ah, that’s better,” he said. “My legs were killing me. Now where was I?” he asked. Wot attempted to speak, to tell him, but his friend did not even notice. “I wanted to ask Umahia a question but he gave me so stern a look I said nothing as he continued with his story… ‘In our mutual and distant past,’ he said, ‘the people on Earth were so like us. You also embraced the Mystic Ways, and for a time our worlds progressed onwards together, both worlds on the same path – almost as one. Yes, it is true, we discovered Earth way back in the mists of time, and while the paths of our two worlds remained close, the door between them stayed open. However, over a period of time things changed... We now consider ourselves an enlightened race, because we progressed onwards, fully embracing Magic and Mysticism, but you, you on Earth, you turned your backs on the Magical, Mystical Ways, embracing material wealth instead. The door closed – we drifted apart…’
‘A simple spell can still open that door, the portal from which we can view Earth, and it’s goings on. Using this opening, we can show our young how not to be. From the moment our paths separated, almost all or your history has been of war, fighting for material wealth. We, however, had evolved beyond that…or so we thought!’ Umahia paced back and forth, thinking deeply, morosely, stroking his long moustache, and then he said, ‘Perhaps we had grown complacent. Perhaps we had grown weak in our comfort. Perhaps we took our Mysticism for granted, thus allowing our interest to wane. Whatever the reason, we did not pay enough attention to the dangers an uncontrolled regime of Mysticism and Magic posed. It was in such a climate we found ourselves in...’”
Nott shifted his position on the stool, and then continued with the tale, “Umahia studied me closely, saying, ‘Now remember this name, and remember it well - Miafra.’ Umahia’s gaze drifted, to another time, to another place, and the more he progressed with his tale the more worried and old his appearance became. ‘It is our own fault!’ he said glumly. ‘Miafra is the spawn of our own neglect.’ Umahia paused for a moment, searching for the right words. ‘You see, Nott, he was an upcoming Mystic, someone who could have been a great force for good in Onisha. He could have brought us back in line, to a new Golden Age. He had a look of purpose – a confidence. He had a way about him that few people possess. It was a charisma, a gift. With a deliberate and calculated use of this gift, Miafra rose swiftly through the echelons of Mystics, perhaps too quickly, until he was the highest ranks of The Brotherhood of Mystics.’
‘His powers were strong, very strong, but he lacked guidance as to how he might use them correctly, for the good for which they were intended, and he strayed. Somewhere along that deviated path, the Dark Forces came into contact with him, influenced him. We all knew they were out there, but no one dared contemplate embracing them. Yes, our world is good, but it is not perfect – there is good and bad everywhere. Although we had removed the powers of Darkness from our minds, it merely slept. That is, until Miafra strayed and touched it, and in so doing he has changed our world completely.’
‘It was so easy for him to influence others, those less talented than himself. Just his appearance would cause an awed hush. This man, this tall man with dark skin, a shaven head and the blackest of eyes, always commanded respect. Whenever he spoke, wherever he spoke, he promised a world where all would be equal, a world where everyone’s powers would be equal – a world of eternal summer. His actions, his words brought out in the people what had lain hidden and asleep for over five hundred years – their greed!
’”
“Umahia gave me no opportunity to ask any questions, he was far too engrossed in delivering his tale,” said Nott. “Speaking again, he said, ‘I have already told you that Miafra had a charismatic way of getting his message across. No one suspected the Dark Forces had influenced him. Kindling support from all sections of society, Miafra’s influence steadily grew. He promised a New World Order, a world where all would be certain, a world of eternal summer, a world he proudly proclaimed as Summerland. However, there was a condition to his promise. To bring his plan into reality he needed more Mystical power. The only way of achieving this aim was to become the Grand Mystic (the highest position in Onisha).’”
“‘But that is your position,’ I said to him. Offering me no reply, Umahia continued with his tale, he said, ‘Miafra summoned the Brotherhood of Mystics, for a Meeting of Extreme Importance. Naturally, they were intrigued that he had called such a meeting, but more importantly, for Miafra, under the oaths they had sworn on their investitures to protect the ancient ways they were obliged to attend. Little did they know that he had a more sinister reason for the meeting than any of them could have imagined. On that fateful day the Brotherhood of Mystics were like lambs to the slaughter, sitting ducks ready to be picked off one by one…”
“The Brotherhood of Mystics had no sooner begun arriving at the Citadel of Composure, and commenced entering the circular Room of Deliberation, when some of them felt that all was not right. You see, for the last five hundred years the atmosphere in the Citadel has always been tranquil, this is common knowledge throughout the land. The Citadel is a place of pilgrimage where believers can visit to gain wisdom and composure, strength and dignity at stressful and challenging times in their lives. On that fateful day, however, tranquillity and composure was patently lacking both within and without the grand building. In their efforts to see and to hear, why the charismatic man had summoned them, so, the Brotherhood of Mystics sadly overlooked these warning signs. When the last of them were entering the Room of Deliberation the skies overhead were brewing a storm so fierce, a storm so strong the very foundations of the old building shook.”
“‘I myself am never expected to attend meetings of the Brotherhood.’ said Umahia. ‘They inform me, later, of all discussions and decisions taken at these meetings, for my input. My seat is there, but only for symbolic purposes, it is an old way but it works. Miafra wanted me to attend, he tried so hard and in so many different ways to pressurise me into going, but I resisted. It is for that reason and that reason alone that I am here today.’”
“Once again I couldn’t help myself,” said Nott, “and I interrupted Umahia, asking him what happened to the Brotherhood of Mystics. He said, ‘Have patience, Nott. I will explain everything in due course. On that fateful day, as the assembled Mystics waited for Miafra to appear, he was far below them, beneath their very feet, secreted deep in the bowels of the building, as far down as it was possible to go. Miafra, standing in the near to total darkness, holding in his outstretched arms a chalice full of liquid gold (it’s a simple spell to change it from solid to liquid), so hot it was boiling and bubbling like it had a life of its own, began speaking. Raising the chalice high above his head, he said, ‘I, Miafra, who have dedicated my life to the forces of Darkness, the forces that were for so long ignored, despised and almost forgotten, in the deepest, darkest recesses of this holy of holy buildings, offer to you, the Power of Darkness, in all its different forms and possibilities, this sacred site. I offer it as the base for my Realm, your Realm, of Darkness. The Brotherhood of Mystics is an obstacle. With that in mind, I ask you to give me the means of destroying them’. Miafra lowered the chalice, pouring the liquid gold onto the cool dark earth. As it sank into the ground, steam rose, forming into a delicate cloud that took on the appearance and shape of an intricate and highly detailed dagger, a ghostly image that posed a dreadful danger! This image, it drifted, it drifted lazily toward Miafra where it came to rest on his outstretched hand. Looking at it, he smiled. Then speaking in a voice barely audible, he said, ‘End their lives.’
‘At that command, the image, the apparition conjured by evil, rose from his hand and disappeared silently through the ceiling above him. Upwards, upwards it continued, on its journey of destruction, through the floors above until it arrived in the Room of Deliberation where the curious Mystics had gathered. Emerging through the floorboards, the ghostly image rested three feet above them. Some of the Mystics saw it and stared in bewilderment, perplexed at such a thing in their midst, an instrument of war, of hate, and their own distant past.’
‘Others were so engrossed in their conversations, deliberations with their fellow Mystics as to why the extraordinary meeting had been called they did not see it at all. It made no difference whether they saw it or not, because it was over so quickly. Speeding across the circular room, the ghostly image seared its way through each Mystic’s heart. It was over. The Brotherhood of Mystics, all twenty-two of them, were dead.’
‘Deep within the bowels of the building Miafra instantly knew that it was done, and he shouted, ‘There is only one person left, only one person in my way, my path for total control and power - Umahia. Like those who lie dead above me, his days are also numbered. The Brotherhood of Mystics is gone! Umahia is all but dead! Now, in the name of the Powers of Darkness, I claim the position of Grand Mystic, and no one can oppose me! Just as my powers are growing, Umahia’s are diminishing. His time has gone!’
‘I knew this process would take some time,’ said Umahia. ‘In an effort to buy some breathing space, to slow the drain on my powers, I fled as far away as it was possible for me to go.’”
“As I watched,” said Nott, “Umahia’s body shook like a ghost had walked over it. Then he continued with his macabre story, ‘This was yet another trick Miafra employed, because by proclaiming himself Grand Mystic he kept the people on side, while he still had a use for them that is. Apart from Miafra, I am the only Mystic still living. His powers are now so strong he can sense whenever I am performing any sort of mystic activity. Nott, I took a great risk when I energised that Christmas card. I cannot fight him; not yet, my powers are far too weak, and he too powerful.’
‘All the hopes of the good people of what was Onisha are depending on you, Nott. Will you please help us to rid our land of this evil man, and all that he stands for?’”
“I answered him,” said Nott, “telling him that I didn’t seem to have any option. I also reminded him that you, Wot, were still at home, and that I had no idea as to what the gifts we possessed was supposed to mean. I also told him that I had absolutely no idea how we might start in this request of his. Despite telling him all this, Umahia simply smiled at me. ‘All will become clear,’ he told me. ‘But first you must go fetch your friend.’ At that remark, Umahia placed his hands into his robe, not into the pockets but into the robe itself or, rather, into the vista of the Unfolding Universe that was his robe. His hands actually disappeared as he was doing this – it really spooked me out, Wot! When the first hand reappeared, it was holding a small Christmas card. Well, I immediately recognised it, Wot. I told that it was the very same one, which had brought me there. I asked him how he had got, and could I go home, instead.’
‘No sooner had I uttered this, did I regret saying it, and I told him so. Umahia continued as if he had heard nothing, withdrawing his other hand from the recesses of the Unfolding Universe that was his robe. He was holding a small black bag made from the same type of material as was his robe. Loosening a golden coloured cord at its top, Umahia delved in a hand and withdrew two glass phials each containing a clear blue liquid, a liquid that bore an uncanny resemblance to the striking blue colour of his eyes. After returning the bag to the Universe of his robe, he began speaking, he said, ‘Nott, you already know that I cannot risk using more magic, here, take this. He offered me the two phials, saying, ‘Drink from one. It will give you the power, albeit temporary, to bring your friend here. Because you are not from Onisha,
because you are an Outlander, Miafra will not be able to trace you. Use it wisely, though, and remember that its powers are only temporary and limited.’”
“I asked him what the second phial was for, and he replied, ‘Your friend, Wot, must drink from it – it will bring him here.’ Removing the cork stopper from the first phial I was, to be honest, quite excited at the prospect of having powers, whatever that entailed, but on raising the phial to my lips I almost threw up. It smelt terrible! Then, heaven knows why, that awful wallpaper in the bedroom came to mind. Perhaps I imagined it would taste the same as the horrid smelling blue liquid! I told him that I could not drink it, that I would throw up if I did. Umahia smiled the same smile as before, saying, ‘Try it again, but this time close your eyes.’”
“I couldn’t understand how closing my eyes would make the slightest bit of a difference. Nevertheless, doing as he bid, I raised the phial to my lips, this time with my eyes closed. The glass tentatively touched my lips, and the dark blue liquid flowed effortlessly down my throat. It was so strange! I didn’t taste or smell it at all! Then, without warning, I felt something happening within me. My sensations began changing, altering; I felt I was away, far away from where I was standing, in space, in the Unfolding Universe I had seen in Umahia’s robe – and it seemed to go on forever! All around me – surrounding me, I could sense – power. It was so dark, and yet so bright, I felt, I wanted, I needed to stay there forever, to try and fathom it all out, but Umahia, interrupting my thoughts, said, ‘Open your eyes, Nott, it is done.’ On opening my eyes I saw nothing different, so I asked him if what I was supposed to feel – or know, but he ignored my question (he is good at that), saying, ‘You now have the power, but remember it is only temporary, use it wisely.’ Pointing, he said, ‘See the Christmas card?’ I nodded. ‘Look into it, concentrate on it, and go fetch your friend, Wot.’ It was a strange thing to say, to tell me, but I obeyed as much to humour him as in believing I could actually do it. As I began concentrating on the card, to my utter astonishment I heard the sound of wind rushing around me, blowing in a circular motion, and I shouted, ‘Oh no, here I go again.’ At that point, I must have lost consciousness because the next thing I knew I was sitting on the floorboards, staring at that awful wallpaper once again. I cried, shouting, imploring him to tell me what was going on, but he was not there.’
‘Standing up, I walked around the room, and at first glance all seemed the same as before. Then I noticed something, something that was very different – a bright light shining in through the window. I went over to investigate and was amazed at what I saw looking through that small, leaded window. You see, Wot, way up high, as far as I could see, there was an enormous light bulb sporting the biggest, tackiest lampshade I had ever laid eyes on. I then noticed that everything, which had originally been outside the house, was gone; there was no garden or plants and the countryside beyond had also vanished without a trace. I found it so hard understand how this had all vanished, replaced by a view so ludicrously different.’
‘Where the garden had been there was now a large area of highly polished wood. It made no sense at all. Trying to see further all I could make out was a vast expanse of deadfall wallpaper, not much better than that in the room I was in. The wall with the horrible wallpaper seemed to go on forever. ‘That wallpaper!’ I thought. ‘It looks familiar!’ I was sure that I had seen it somewhere before, though on a smaller scale. In a flash of pure inspiration, I remembered, it was the very same wallpaper that you, Wot, have on your hallway. I then recognised the lampshade and the front door, again the same as yours. I was so excited, because if this was indeed so, then all the goings-on with Umahia had truly happened, and I was inside the Christmas card, standing on the coat stand beside your front door. What a stupid place to leave a Christmas card, I thought.’”
“I looked for you, Wot, I really did!” said Nott. “I stared through that window for hours on end. In fact, I looked through all the windows, but I did not see you. Because I could not see over to your window, for signs of daylight or lack of it, I had completely lost track of the time, and that old grandfather clock with just the one hand was a fat load of use. I wondered why anyone would bother to wind up a clock with only one hand on it, especially when it was the minute hand. Moreover, as to why they might want to screw down the other hand onto a ledge was anyone’s guess.”
“Tiring of such seemingly pointless questions I finally fell asleep. The next thing I can remember was hearing you reciting one of those weird poems of yours. Shouting, I tried to get your attention, but it was useless, you could not hear me; I was too small and too far away from you. Racking my brains trying to think of a way to attract your attention I eventually remembered the door and its big, brass knocker. I thought that perhaps if I knocked it hard enough, it might, just might attract your attention. I ran down the stairs, half-expecting to see Umahia on the chair in the far corner. I opened the door and lifted the heavy knocker; it was a lot heavier than I had thought it would be. With both hands holding it, I gave the door a loud knock. I waited for you to appear, but NOTHING. I hissed in disgust, ‘That dope, Wot, has fallen asleep in front of the fire again.’ I lifted the knocker a second time and banged the door even harder, this time with all the strength I could muster. It was much louder than my first attempt. I felt sure you would hear it. I knew it had worked when I heard you stomping your down the hallway.”
“Yeah, I did hear it,” said Wot. “I can still remember how it annoyed me.”
“Well, I had to get your attention, didn’t I?”
“I wasn’t complaining, Nott,” Wot replied apologetically. “I’m sorry.”
“Can I continue?”
“Sorry, go on.”
“From my viewpoint inside the card, you had the appearance of an enormous giant walking down that hallway, but that didn’t put me off, Not at all! Determined to get your attention, I shouted at the top of my voice. That was when you looked down and picked up the card – I was certain you saw me waving at you from the open doorway, but the speed with which you picked the card up told me a very different story indeed. You sent crashing to the rear of the hallway and into the wall, as the door banged shut behind me. From that position, huddled in the corner, nursing my bruises, I could see your bloodshot eyes scrutinising the card in fine detail. ‘Good,’ I said, ‘perhaps now he will see that I’m in here!’”
“I remember,” said Wot. “It did fascinate me! That front door, its construction of such old and solid timber – it intrigued me. I remember saying, they don’t build them like that anymore, then being scared almost to death by you answering me.”
“I did say no interruptions, remember? I’m telling the story!” said Nott. Concluding his story, he said...
“Well, you know the rest old buddy. That is the complete and full story of how I got into this unfortunate situation, and why you must help me to get out from this card, away from this madness. It is far too dangerous a place, even for me! Let someone else help them.”
His brow creasing, Wot contemplated Nott’s predicament, and the way forward, in any. “Perhaps it is dangerous,” he said, staring into the card, “but what will happen to all of those people if we don’t help them?”
“That is their problem, not mine,” Nott replied. His flippant remark, however, did not go down well with his friend. If they were a team, he was definitely its conscience.
Pondering the situation, further, Wot asked, “Remember the time you fell down that well?”
“What about it?”
“When you shouted for help, did I leave you there?”
“No, no you did not” he replied, fearing where the conversation was heading.
“And the time your ceiling fell in, did I leave you to fix it yourself?”
Nott lowered his eyes without saying a word.
“And, again, remember when your car broke down out in the middle of nowhere. You phoned me up, asking for help. Did I say no?” Wot’s truthful words hi
t the mark; Nott felt smaller by the second. He knew he was right, he knew that had no choice but eat humble pie, to listen to Wot’s precious conscience if he ever wanted to see the outside world again.
“Okay, I’ll help them,” Nott said, quietly, rightly.
“And so will I,” Wot added. “You know it’s the right thing to do, don’t you?”
“Hmm,” Nott replied.
“Have you finished your sawdust, I mean cereal, Nott?”
“Yes,” he replied, still annoyed at missing out on the big Christmas fry-up.
“Right then, I am ready,” said Wot. “Now tell me exactly what I must do to join you inside that card!”
Nott passed the small phial through the open window, instructing Wot to drink from it.
Accepting the small and delicate piece of glass, Wot raised it to his lips and drank from it. “Okay,” he said, “I’ve done that. What next?”
Although he was quite surprised that Wot had made no remark about the liquid’s foul smell, Nott went on to explain the next step of the process to him. “Concentrate on the card,” he said, “while at the same looking into it.”
“That seems rather easy,” said Wot. “I am sure I can manage to do that.” Without saying another word, he sat down and began staring into the little card. In little more than a few seconds everything around him was in a whirl, as the wind tugging, sucking and pulling at him transported Wot to another place, another world, to Summerland.
Wot, Nott, Kakuri and the Hu Ba Hou - Part One: The Fabled Crest Page 4