The Other of One: Book Two

by Brian G. Burke

  “Will I ever?” she smiled, wondering about what she was going to eat first. “Thank you, Thedius. You are very kind.”

  “Don’t mention it!” winked he. “Now please, allow me not to hold you up. Eat and slumber! Slumber and eat! Take this time for yourselves. I beg of you. As I said, you’re my guests…so my house is yours. Help yourselves to whatever your heart desires.”

  Apprehending a crafty look from Khrum, Thedius guffawed and revoked, “Everything except the keys to my whisky cabinet, that is! Ho-ho! Enjoy! Enjoy! Feast Feast!”

  Redmun threw such a slight wink to our William that he was not sure if he even saw it, and yet he corresponded with a supportive smile nonetheless. Thedius and the Erethaoí then withdrew up another staircase to the north, where an inviting veranda opened out thereafter.

  Hours wafted by, and they ate and ate until they almost felt sick, which was better than starving to death on some cold, miserable mountain. William, Khrum, Stell, and Icrick had consumed so much that they nodded off straight after their meal. How could they not, when surrounded by such comfort? Then again, they were quite exhausted too, from so many arduous days before. On the contrary, Wren didn’t eat as much as they, so she stayed awake.

  Peeling herself off the cushions as not to make a peep, she decided to explore the palace. It turned out that it wasn’t just one big hall after all, no; there were many of these galleries, some more regal than others, branching off from one another and in all kinds of amazing routes. In fact, that first hall was probably the smallest of all, which might give you some clue as to how massive the other rooms actually were.

  Proceeding along, happy as you please, she noticed how the murals and mosaics were merging from room to room, continuing with their stories and patterns to make up one tremendous motif. When done admiring their excellence, she ambled on, taking her sweet time, and marvelling at every little thing Thedius’ keep had to offer. Everything from the self-illustrating paintings to amazingly colourful water displays in the house fountains. If this couldn’t bring out the good in somebody, no place could. A good hour she spent watching those fountains, as spurts of water leapt into the air in the shapes of frogs and fish. ‘Twas so exquisitely graceful, and hypnotic to boot.

  After another brief time, she moseyed out onto a huge, oval balcony overlooking the entirety of that wondrous and cloudy realm. It was so nice to just stand there watching the world go by. A flawless sight, which only precious few had ever seen. Untouched by any such cruelty that may have lurked below, those cotton clouds rolled navy beneath the gorgeous starlight, and they stretched on for an age. No matter how long she lingered, Wren simply couldn’t adapt to its beauty. Its novelty was just so prodigious; like an everlasting world of glowing colour, plump with life, blitheness, and virtue.

  A few minutes later, Redmun entered her company. He’d since concluded his meeting with Thedius and he too was touring the palace alone, basking in its charms.

  More at ease than usual, he gazed into the clouds and asked, “Enjoying the scenery?”

  Wren found him to be strangely relaxed. But he didn’t exactly look content, therefore it could easily have been the arriving spell, blended with some fixed pressures, which made him so. She decided not to mention it though, should she overstep her boundaries.

  “Yes, it’s fantastic, isn’t it?” she said. “So quiet! Like something from a picture.”

  “Outstanding, I agree.” Redmun said, leaning next to her. “I’m thankful I have the eyes to see it.”

  A minute’s silence drew by; nothing was uttered, and nothing was considered. Nothing other than Wren’s interest towards certain matters.

  “Is everything well? You seem quiet,” Redmun eventually asked.

  Doubtful of whether she should even mention anything at all, she brought herself to say, “W-Well, William told us a little bit about your other lives. A-A-About your evolutions and the likes…”

  “I see. And…”

  “I couldn’t help but overhear what you said to him earlier in the hall. About Thedius knowing something about your past,” said she.

  “Aaah!” the man grinned, seeing where this was going.

  “I was just wondering, was it good news or bad news…about your second life? You don’t have to tell me, of course. It’s up to you. I’m just being nosy.”

  Suddenly a call echoed a few galleries away. Icrick, it seemed, had awoken, and was lost for company, for he kept asking where everybody had got to.

  “Wren! Wren! Where are you? Hello? Where is everyone?” he called out.

  “Uh-oh, Icrick sounds lost.” she said. “Listen, never mind me, Redmun. I’m sorry for prying. It’s none of my business anyhow. I’ll leave you be.”

  “It’s fine, lass. However, I am not at liberty to go into detail. Let’s just say…Thedius’ news was not what I had imagined it to be,” he answered, and his voice preserved a sort of distance. “Amongst other things, he told me that, given time, Belenathus’ bane will no longer be mine to bear.”

  “WREN, WHERE ARE YOU? I’M STUCK IN SOME BROOM CLOSET AND I CAN’T FIND ANY DOOR!” Icrick screeched, sounding terribly scared. “UGH, SOMETHING’S JUST TOUCHED MY LEG. No…wait. False alarm. That was just my…um…my other hand. Fell asleep on it earlier.”

  “Oh, I’d better go before he gets another panic attack.” she fussed, setting into a backward jog. “I’m sorry to run out on you like this. I really wish I could hear more about it. All the same, from what you’ve told me, it sounds like you got some good news. And that’s always a good thing. Bye, Redmun.”

  Following that innocent young girl with a rapt stare as she swept down a long hallway to find her friend, Redmun ended sadly, “It will soon be the bane of my kin…”

  - Chapter Twelve -

  The Cloud Window

  Later on, as the moon grew all the brighter among a black sea of diamond stars, it was William who stumbled upon that very balcony. Everyone else had scattered throughout that palace, which makes sense—them wanting time to themselves—after spending so much time together of late. It allowed them to unwind and forget about their worries for a while, and what better place to this than a hospitable kingdom in the clouds.

  Upon that balcony he indulged in the night, just as Wren herself had done only hours earlier. Ebyulàn, at the coming of the twelfth stroke, also had a nightly tradition. An orchestra of angels would congregate in the gardens below to sing a tranquil hymn. A Hymn of Middle-Night, it was called. That was precisely what William was doing in this hour; listening to their music.

  Their melody was sweet and dreamlike. William was cast back to Ballycongraggon and he imagined the stories of his homeland; harmonizing certain events with the musical movements, until a grand nostalgic vision unfurled before his mind’s eye. Yet he couldn’t concentrate for very long, for reasons best known to himself.

  He’d taken the Symphogram with him on his stroll, and found himself glancing at it then, in the hope of discovering something new in his spiritual whereabouts. But nothing did he perceive.

  “Well now, young William. At last we have a chance to chat.” said Thedius, in his usual cheerful way, as he came out to meet him.

  “Hello, Thedius. Hope you don’t mind me taking a look around. It’s just, it makes a nice change from being stuck down there on Lythiann.”

  “Be my guest! No need to ask, lad! No need to ask, a-t’all-a-t’all.” smiled Thedius, giving William a fine pat on the back.

  He liked Thedius. He was always in a good mood, and somehow it managed to rub off on anybody who went near him or his homely house.

  “It is a beautiful country, is it not? I have never left here, you know. Nor will I ever. It is a home of dreams, in my eyes.” said Thedius, with a fulfilling sigh.

  “It’s…well, it’s…perfect! That’s the only way I can describe it, really,” William answered.

  “Indeed. Perfect. We’re lucky to live here, my folk and I,” Thedius replied, waving his hand to and fro, to the sound
of the melody.

  Just then, he said something rather out of the ordinary to William.

  “So…still in one piece then? Your guardian angel is doing their job well, I see?”

  Assuming him to be merely generalizing, William politely agreed and said no more. The king had a curious little smile on his face, as if waiting on William to pick up on it. But he didn’t, so he left it at that.

  “Oh, and what’s this?” he asked, holding the Symphogram at arm’s length, weighing it up and fingering its etchings.

  “That’s the Symphogram,” William said.

  “I know what it is, lad!” Thedius laughed. “It was just my way of pondering aloud. Old age, you see. Ah yes, the famous Sym-pho-gram! So, do you…um….do you know what it does yet?”

  Disinclined to consider such things when he felt so at peace for a change, William looked outside again, and bare of detail, he said, “Yes. It plays Mysun’s music. The Banádh.”

  “Indeed it does, young man! Very good!” smiled Thedius, setting the Symphogram down again. “And, by any chance, do you know how to reveal this music?”

  It was like Thedius was hinting at something. Like he himself knew how to do just that.

  Wondering what he was getting at, William looked at him curiously, and said, “When I find out what I’m here for…that’s when I’ll hear it, apparently.”

  “And what are you here for, lad? Better yet, what are you fighting for?”

  “That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” William sighed.

  Wilting to a whisper, Thedius uttered, “Let me include you in on a little secret, shall I? From day one, the solution has been right in front of your face. Believe it or not, it’s true! And, every day since, you’ve seen it in more ways than you could ever possibly fathom! All you have to do now is realise it. Now, what say you of that?”

  Terrified yet spellbound that he may yet discover what this secret actually was, William slowly met Thedius eye to eye and asked, “C-Can you tell me what I’m supposed to be fighting for, Thedius?”

  “I could,” said the man, in an iffy tone, “but I won’t.”

  “There seems to be a lot o’ that going around.” William smirked, in a way not surprised.

  “I feel your frustration, lad. Truly, I do! But if I told you the secret, then I fear you would not prevail. I’m sorry, William. I really am. But there are just some things in this life that you need to determine for yourself. How can one expect to grow on answers alone, when it is the understanding that really teaches us; that nurtures us, makes us wiser? As for this case, I’ve told you only what I see fit. Enough to hopefully light your way a little. Now, try not to worry about it. For you truly are on the right trail. And all going well, you should pull through it just fine. All going well.”

  “You honestly think so? How can you be so certain?” William asked.

  Humbly, Thedius replied, “Oh, I’ve been known to see things, from time to time. However, no certainty is guaranteed. That I am certain of!”

  William deliberated for a second, and given his past encounters, he smirked.

  “Am I missing something?” Thedius asked.

  Returning to the phrase of that splendid hymn, the boy replied, “It’s a pity all prophets can’t be as friendly as you. I didn’t seem to have much luck with the last one.”

  “Ah, but William,” the king said, placing his hand on his shoulder, “what you learnt in the ruin could very well be some of the answers that you seek. Albeit, some elements of that fortune proved a bit vague; a bit sketchy. Then again, some parts were, unfortunately, quite true…depending on how you look at them.”

  Noticing William’s frustration, Thedius added, “Aggravating, yes. But you’ll see your way past all of this, no doubt. You’ll figure it out. You have a stout heart, young man, and that goes a long way in this day ‘n’ age. Incidentally, you know all that repetitive nonsense you keep saying to yourself all the time? Stop it! I tell you now, it does you no good! Next time you feel like doing this, distract yourself. Think of something pleasant. Otherwise you’ll condition yourself to do the same thing, over and over, in every stressful situation, thereby perpetuating your fear, and that’s not the way you want to end up—afraid and unsure all the time. Break the control of fear, and you’ll break the fear itself.”

  “I know,” William muttered. “Redmun told me something similar. But it’s not always that easy.”

  “You’ll cope when you need to, lad. Try not to worry so much.”

  Copping Thedius’ remark about Webble, William then paused and asked, “The ruin? Wait a second! You know what Vahna actually told me down there?!”

  “As I said, lad, I see things sometimes…that’s all,” the king answered. “Sometimes all together, sometimes in shards. Speaking of which, I have new tidings for you now.”

  When William heard the word ‘tidings,’ a shiver slithered up his spine. For anything he’d learnt in those former months bequeathed nothing but heartache. However, for some reason, he was compelled to know what these new tidings were. Promising or bleak, it mattered not. Again, it must’ve been the restful bewitchment of Ebyulàn that relaxed him so.

  “What sort o’ tidings?” he asked.

  Powerless in upholding his jolly ways, Thedius said caringly, “Come. To the tower.”

  Bringing the Symphogram along, William accompanied him down that tall hallway and up a spiral staircase, arriving thereafter at a snug bell tower which overlooked the misty lakes of the east.

  Thedius rooted around in his cuffs, to produce a pocket-sized bellows. He tested the wind with a lick of his finger, then aimed it into the clouds directly below, where he delivered three sharp blows into the passing breeze. William observed. The clouds went into a tranquil swirl, until, like a frothy whirlpool they opened up to reveal a window to Lythiann’s east.

  Thedius then asked of him, “Look down there, my boy. Go on.”

  How sympathetically he spoke, in contrast to what William knew of him.

  Immersing himself in a calming breath, like he could sense what was coming, he gazed down, down, down into the dale beneath the mountain, and this is what he saw.

  ‘Twas the dead of night, where, twinkling through the flashing shroud of a lightning storm, like a line of tiny ants, he could distinguish a massive gathering of burning torches. While they appeared miniscule from up there, he knew painfully well what he was looking at.

  If not for a ghostly haze obscuring the eyes of the moon, the surrounding sky above Ebyulàn would have looked clear, and dwelling upon it, Thedius said, “The eclipse will not be long coming, my boy. These creatures can smell it in the air. Already, they are being convened by the dark one. Yes…they are on the move!”

  On the move, indeed. For William looked on as thousands of lights slowly inched their way eastward. Fading embers on charred parchment.

  William felt like he could crush them all with one solid stomp of his boot, but it wasn’t going to be that easy, and he knew this well enough.

  “So, this is Drevol’s army? This is what we’ll be facing?” he muttered, composed only by the influence of Ebyulàn. “I imagined what it would look like…but I never would’ve imagined this! I’m surprised Drevol shared Lythiann with so many! Where were they all hiding, I wonder?”

  In a sort of pity, Thedius said, as he watched the battalion marching along, “Had there been no such thing as the eclipse, then indeed, the Pooka would not have shared Lythiann with these creatures. He’d simply wipe them all out. For he had always believed them a drawback in his own creation. A sort of burden. However, some have actually proved quite useful to him in the past; granted, it would be unheard of for him to admit it. But when the eclipse does not reign, they still hide from his presence like everyone else…in fear. Sheltering in lonely lands and grey places. Yet now it calls to them again. ‘Tis the return of terrible times, there is no denying. And the return of his dark disciples.”

  Winding their way across the landscape, like a vast ri
ver of fiery horror, it was a wonder to William as to what manner of beasts would accompany such an army, so he asked, “What exactly will we be up against, Thedius? Do you know? Are they all Gremlins and Ogres…or does Drevol have other soldiers too?”

  “Many are Gremlins, and yes, many are Ogres, too. But most are the likes of Ahueé…and Goblins.”

  Dredging up old memories of what Stell had once told them about the evil Goblin, Goidoy, William could have kicked himself for being so absent-minded.

  “Goblins!” he exclaimed. “I almost forgot about the Goblins. As if things weren’t bad enough. What are they like, Thedius? How dangerous, I mean?”

  “I won’t lie, lad,” said Thedius, “for coated-truths can seldom be allies. Unlike some, the Goblins are crabby, black-hearted creatures. As for the Hobgoblins—or Ahueé, as we call them—well, they are far, far worse! Comparable to Drevol, they hold no mercy. Not for themselves…and certainly not for any other!”

  “And Goidoy?”

  “Aaah…Goidoy,” Thedius uttered, taking an especially keen interest. “Although he cannot compete with the powers of some, Goidoy still possesses a sly wit, and he wields it well. Yes, many a brave soul has fallen to his malice. But should you ever encounter this foe, and your company ends up facing him head on, William…know this: a valuable bond may be at hand soon thereafter.”

  “A valuable bond? You mean…”

  “I mean just as I say, lad,” Thedius interrupted. “Try not jump to any conclusions, because more often than not, they don’t exactly turn out the way we would expect them to. You’ll know what I mean, if the time comes.”

  William accepted this counsel for what it was, and so went back to discussing the moon.

  “So…how long do we have till the eclipse?” he asked.

  “Well, our enemies are gathering from the west; building their numbers as they move,” Thedius explained. “I’d say you probably have three, maybe four days. With a little of my help I can get you ahead of this army. But evil moves quickly, and I can only get you so far. This means that you will still need to travel with haste yourselves, lest they catch up to you!”