The cloud blinded everything they wished to see beyond the stair. All they could do was observe their steps as the mist spread gently below their feet, to reveal the changing sheen of a fine, white marble. Just then, the cloud broke and, there, before the glorious blue of a gorgeous, cloudless sky, was a majestic gateway to a magical kingdom. No earthbound person, dead or living, had ever set eyes on such a wonder, and what a joy it was for them to finally see proper sunshine again.
Fabricated almost entirely from fluffy cloud, this divine land opened out into a world of dales, alps, and meadows. By the tepid moisture in the air, the coming light set a glow to those great, cottony banks. Like illumination through a prism, it lit up the surface in such a way as to give the surreal impression of lovat vales, blue mountains, and turquoise waters. All were faintly off colour, but all were undeniably mesmerising. ‘Twas like an illusory depiction of what heaven must be like.
Rainbows arced across the realm, while fields upon fields of mokara orchids ebbed into the horizon. Around these flowers, whose petals glowed like light, strange entities sailed; orbs of tinted light. And they swished through the air, singing like panpipes and wind chimes, spreading so much more love into the atmosphere it was as if they had no other purpose aside from love alone.
Of no articulate detail—more simply serene—small white fishing vessels sailed calmly through those waters, netting many loads of brightly coloured fish. Then, amongst the dewy streets of a wondrous, gilded city, many more of those angelic folk were rambling. They strode like they had no fear of threat, sorrow, nor damnation. Together with birds of the many—some strange and some common—more of those seraphim coasted through that tranquil yonder in total harmony. Even winged mounts glided amongst them; beautiful creatures, who were equally as unspoilt by anything of an adverse nature.
They could not believe their eyes. Everything was so cheerful for a change. What a pleasant shock it must’ve been; to be negotiating a horrible mountain one second, only to end up here, in such a celestial utopia the next, a countryside thriving with creatures of all races. Rabbits, golden rams, storks, deer, eagles, kindly looking Leviathans, badgers, swans, giant elks…and even the odd dragon. A truly formidable sight. Then, in the heart of all things, sculpted from the very marble of the mountain’s peak, a grand citadel awaited, with copper-green spires of the many.
Its walls glinted in the dazzling sunlight. In its centre was the main keep, whose outer confines were erected from the finest of materials; diamond, gold, and pearl alike. Even those lancet windows and open portals were proficiently contoured with sparkling motifs of platinum and silver. Leading down from the main door of this citadel was a brilliant flight of stairs which broadened out before touching the misty ground below.
A very wise and friendly looking man awaited them at the bottom, in his marvellous, ivory robes. They could tell he was friendly by the way his eyes were smiling behind his bushy eyebrows, and the way his long beard ran right down to his sandals in intricate plaits. He also wore a golden circlet around his silver curls, which’d been pricelessly wrought to the shape of creeping ivy.
Two snowy lambs appeared from the gentle miasma, so as to open the gates for their visitors. Out flooded a rush of lovely warmth. It passed over their skin and filled their lungs with some long-awaited vitality.
Opening his arms with a hearty laugh, the stranger called out, “Come! Enter my home! The sky-realm of Ebyulàn!”
“Ebyulàn? Never heard of it.” Stell whispered, and Redmun was inclined to agree.
“Of course you haven’t heard of it,” the man said with a grin, startling the Elf with his impeccable hearing. “This is just one of many hidden paradises beneath God’s own kingdom of heaven. Now come in, you lot. Come! And, please…leave your troubles at the door!”
When he asked this of them, a silky stream of dandelion clocks swept over William and his friends. With it came a sudden, overwhelming sense of repose. It was so unusual, but wonderful, too. For they truly felt at ease. Whatever burdens plagued them before that, didn’t bother them in the slightest now. Yes, they were still in thought, naturally. But that cooling wave had somehow drained these troubles of all ailments, leaving behind but vacant casings of what they once were. It was like they did not care about them anymore. It was that simple. What’s more, William was baffled by it. For he knew, in heart and soul, that so many things were troubling him, and yet, he just didn’t give a sausage about any of them. Still, given how he was sworn to secrecy about some few particulars, he chose not to let this cheeriness better him, should he mention matters better left hidden.
They waited at the gate; unsure of what to do or say. Such behaviour would be expected of anyone, I’ll wager, what with the sheer majesty of this place. It would be rude to just march in like they belonged.
The same two angels approached the kingly stranger for a quiet word. They were, I suppose, informing him of how matters went upon meeting the newcomers. Whatever it was, the man just laughed out merrily. He then praised them with many thanks for their services, and asked them to show their guests in.
Leaning into Wren’s ear, William whispered, “Don’t you go embarrassing me here. This man looks important, so be kind and speak properly.”
Wren kept her eyes front and, assertively, cocked her chin into the air with a “Humph!”
“Welcome - to - the - house - of - King - Thedius - Thide. Redmun, - if - it - pleases - you, he - will - see - you - first,” the angels uttered.
As at ease as the Erethaoí now felt, he strived to stay alert, soothing spell or not. He requested that the others wait while he exchanged words with this man; to inspect, I suppose, the authenticity of his allegiance. They consented. Over he thus went, and delivered a well-mannered bow in the process.
“Arise! Arise, young Redmun. You need not bow to me.” Thedius laughed, embracing Redmun in a friendly hug.
His clasp all but smothered the Erethaoí, being a big, burly man, with arms as thick as young trees. But Redmun gathered it was out of kind spirit, so he showed little protest. That’s not to say that he didn’t feel uncomfortable, as he wasn’t accustomed to such affection from another grown man. As such, he gave this Thedius stranger a hefty—if not mildly awkward—pat on the back, and stepped away so as they could conduct their business.
They were imparting some silent words and, to the others’ interest, the Erethaoí appeared very intrigued, and actually rather shocked by what Thedius was telling him. Whatever were they discussing? Nobody knew.
After their chat, Redmun signalled at the others to enter. He looked trusting of Thedius now, so they all found their way across that supple cloud, in a neatly fashion, to introduce themselves.
“Well, well! And who have we here?” Thedius again laughed, looking at William.
He was very cheery, to say the least.
“My name is William Muldoon, Your Highness…um…Your Graciousnesses!” the lad answered nervously; he’d never met a king before.
When he was done making a proper blunder of things, he scrunched his eyes and bowed as low as he could, in the hope that it would go by unnoticed.
“Well, now, William, coming from one who is so destined for greatness as yourself, I will take this introduction as a rare honour.” The man grinned, also presenting a bow in respect. “And I should be very grateful to deserve such a flattering title as the one which you have just given me!”
He then guffawed aloud, with his hands jiggling on his round belly.
Thedius was wiping the last hearty tear from his eye, when Wren presented herself to him.
“And who’s this little flower?” asked he.
“Wren Clarína of Klybhaín house, at your service, Your Grace. And I wish you and yours my most sincerest and heartfelt of wishes,” she said, in a very formal and proper manner, which totally outdid William’s drastic attempt.
Closing her eyes, she exhibited a perfectly confident curtsey.
This made William feel the right twit. He ev
en saw Wren smiling away to herself, all smugly, so he gave a quiet tut, and stayed bowing until instructed otherwise.
Kneeling level to the girl, Thedius quoted, “Plant a seed to watch it grow, with a perfect bloom and heavenly glow…”
After which, he granted her a polite bow too, which he did more graciously and earnestly than he did William.
And so, in an orderly fashion, they all announced themselves to the kind man, while cordially bestowing bows of their own.
Wouldn’t you know, Khrum just rolled right up to Thedius, and said, “How’ya there, Flossy, me aul’ horsheen! Which way ta the nearest tavern? Don’t go holdin’ out on us now! I can shmell it! Shmell it in the air, so I can! Like an aul’ crotchless…”
(He took a slap over the back of the head.)
“Ow! Excuse you!” Khrum protested, but Icrick (the one and only culprit) was bowing so tranquilly, it was as if he never moved a muscle.
Luckily, Thedius found it hilarious. So much so, that he contracted a stitch from laughing so hard.
“Ho-ho! That’s one funny little jester you’ve got there!” he howled, slapping his knee. “Come! All of you! You are my guests, and it is not very polite to have guests waiting on the doorstep! Plenty of food and drink to come! Flossy! Ho-ho, indeed! Follow me.”
“Does he think I’m jokin’ or what?” Khrum whispered to Icrick, only to have the Grogoch glower in contempt of his rudeness. “What? What did I do?”
What an amazing palace it was. They stepped inside and did nothing else but gaze up at the magnitude and detail of both the walls and ceiling. Every square inch, right up to the very tip of the golden dome above, was coated in a great mural; seemingly telling the histories of some significant age bygone. It was gorgeously crowded with amazing depths of every colour imaginable. One could have sat there, analysing it, captivated by it, for an entire lifetime, and still not have taken it all in.
The white marbled confines were flowing with silk curtains and magnificent tapestries of all embellishments. Mammoth-sized columns wandered down along either side the hall, until they met with two thrones on a pearl rostrum at the far end. Above these thrones loomed a massive stained-glass window, shaped like four overlaying diamonds, where an image of an elegant angel, cradling a newborn, was painted.
The marble floors, too, were of vast detail; sparsely designed with intricate mosaics of woodland animals and flying beasts. Then, set within some fashion of bewitchment, great chandeliers were floating just shy of the ceiling, tinkling as they hovered. This must be the palace of all palaces! William thought with astonishment.
“Does all this belong to you?” Wren asked Thedius, as they walked the royal hall.
“Oh, heavens no.” He laughed. “It belongs to me and my people! Anyone who wishes to reside in my land claims ownership of it alongside the rest of us. How selfish would it be of me to horde all of this for myself? I built this in honour of all, young Wren.”
“And what exactly is this place?” Icrick inquired, twirling ‘round as he admired the artwork.
“Oh, we build our little community as times goes by,” explained Thedius, “from Lythiann’s people, heroes, and saints…after they pass.”
“So what does that make you then?” Khrum asked. “God?”
“Ho-ho, not at all! I am, by no way or means, any more or less important than a snail on a leaf, dear fellow,” Thedius winked.
Suddenly two angel younglings—a boy and a girl—glided in from outside. They were chasing one another for a game; slaloming in and out of those mighty pillars, giggling and screeching. Soaring up to the distant thrones, they plonked themselves down into the larger of the two, where they proceeded to tease and tickle each another, and not a word was said to them for it.
“Would you look at that. Amazing!” Wren chortled.
Pew was also having the time of his life, dashing across those bright floors and sliding into a spin on his fluffy belly. He was rather enjoying bowling little Khrum over in the process. The leprechaun, however, was not so impressed. Good enough for him.
The Poppum’s playful squeaks resonated quite happily throughout that grand hall. Pining to be included in their games, he then scampered up to the younglings and started springing about, looking for their attention. The boy cherub whisked Pew up into his arms and took him for a quick spin around the grounds. They could even hear the Poppum chuckling, every now and then, as they zoomed past the windows. A short while later, he was delivered back to them, safe and sound…though a little puffy from flight.
As Stell was asking Thedius about the history of the mountain, Redmun took William to one side to have a word. Wren saw this and, dropping behind, she kept one ear open.
Taking care not to disturb the tour, Redmun muttered, “I fear to believe it myself, boy, but Thedius here claims to know of my mid-existence…among other things! And if this man truly is King Thide, the great mystic, then it may very well be true…granted, not much else is known about him.”
“Seriously?” William gasped, lowering his voice again. “So that’s what you two were talking about? Your reincarnations?”
“Yes. However, I did not expect this,” said Redmun, somewhat scattered. “I insisted that he tell me everything, and he is more than willing. We shall converse in a moment. Once he’s provided the rest of you with food, he said. I just hope he can be trusted. That it’s not some confounded trick. God knows I’ve been through that mill before!”
“I know you’ve taught me a lot, Redmun,” said William, “with you being my tutor and all. You know so much. But, if you ask my opinion, I don’t think you’ve any reason to feel threatened here. Not in this place. I mean, there’s no badness in it…from what I can see.”
Tousling William’s hair, the Erethaoí spoke honourably, “Such wise words, lad. Come a long way, so you have. This pleases me. As for this place, you may well be right. After a lifetime of distrust, one tends to doubt these sporadic bouts of decency. Maybe I should give it a chance.”
Pausing for a spell, Redmun’s eyes took to the walls, and to the view of outside, like he’d had an epiphany.
“Redmun?” William asked, suddenly spotting Wren, who quickly turned away.
Lowering his voice further, he went on, “What’s wrong?”
“It’s just…I have a feeling about this place,” Redmun whispered. “Like I know of it somehow. Yet I can’t say why? It puzzles me.”
Putting that aside, he then said, “Never mind that for now. I trust you will be okay if I leave you? You won’t let the others wander, will you? The leprechaun especially!”
“You can count on me!” William nodded. “Oh, and Redmun…I hope he has some good news for you.”
“As do I,” the man replied, ever pondering.
Thedius came to a stop near the end of the hall, and turned to address his guests.
“Well, now!” he smiled, slapping his hands together. “I bid you all to feast and drink until your bellies can hold no more. As for you, Khrum, should my house ale not suffice, just ask for whatever brand you fancy. Just tell them ‘Old Flossy’ sent you! Ho-ho! But, there shall be no consumption of whisky here, I fear. Not on this property! Last time we gave a leprechaun whisky on these premises, it took us four days to clean up the mess. Never seen the likes.”
“Aw, come on!” Khrum implored. “Jusht one tot! One is all I ask! I can manage that much! Besides, I’m a leprechaun, look at me. I’m supposed ta drink whishky.”
“No, no. It is ale that we shall provide, and it will be only ale that you shall have, my good chap,” insisted Thedius. “To learn a lesson once, is one lesson which needn’t be learnt again. I shall say no more.”
Incredibly intrigued by this whole ‘whisky’ matter, William muttered into Icrick’s ear, “I always meant to ask. But, if Khrum actually ends up getting his hands on some whisky…what exactly happe—”
“Hold that thought, William.” Icrick shuddered, cutting him off. “The very thoughts are too horrific a thing to e
ven speak of! So let’s not get into it now, if you please!”
“Fair enough so…” said the lad, feeling a little snubbed.
A throng of angels drifted in from an entryway to the east, all carrying countless platters of scrumptious-looking food. They set everything down in a cushion-strewn parlour, just to the rear of William’s gathering, before exiting.
Some of these platters contained fruit, others comprised of vegetables; there was roast beef, too; smoked quail; honey-glazed ham; lobsters; crab claws; shrimp salad; crunchy poppy seed bread, and smoked salmon. Better yet, another assembly of angels soared in from the front end of the hall, carrying even more delicious treats. These salvers contained desserts and sweet delights such as stacks of chocolate buns, rich fudge cakes, caramel mousses, cream-filled éclairs, and jam pastries. Finally, two more seraphim arrived; one bringing a silver drum of ale, and the other, two clear drums of fresh, tangy lemonwater.
Khrum, being a leprechaun through and through, was on this like a shot. He was already panned out, stately-like, in that parlour room; cramming his gob with chocolate buns and helping himself to a delicious goblet of frosty beer. Akin to a child, he was kicking his feet and chuckling with giddiness whilst he indulged in this wonderful feast. Icrick was no better, having also bounded into action without a second’s debate.
“Excellent!” Thedius laughed jovially. “I see that our little friends are wasting no time! Now, I would ask if you would not mind me borrowing Redmun for a spell? Just a short while. There are some matters which need discussing. We shan’t be long.”
“Not at all,” said William, getting himself settled. “We’ll be fine here. Thank you, Thedius.”
“Yes. Take all the time you need,” said the Elf, removing his quiver and getting comfortable. “Many thanks for your hospitality, my lord. It was well needed.”
“My pleasure to both of you!” nodded the man, and nudging Wren playfully with his elbow, he whispered, “And what about you, little one? Will you be all right here for a while?”
The Other of One: Book Two Page 35