Richard Struggle - Evacuate the Masquerade: (Episodic Novella 1 - Season 1)
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Apparently the trio had been among the first wave to explore Creakylid and now helped pave the way for those who'd yet to arrive.
"What's the most important thing to know about Creakylid?" Richard asked after listening to a story about a stream the three had found that flowed uphill.
Fanny fixed Richard with a serious gaze. "Creakylid is the god's playground. Only Driven knows what's there. We certainly don't. We've only just begun to scratch the surface. We sort-of know about the islands in the small chain where the entrance is, but apart from that, it may as well be totally unknown. You can walk for just a few days out of the two cities they're building on the mainland and find things no one has ever found before. Do not go off adventuring unprepared. It might well eat you alive."
Richard solemnly nodded. Being eaten alive certainly wasn't on his to-do list.
Eventually, after many hours on the road, and no less than five over-night stops, the minibus pulled into a small village just visible outside of the brightly lit vehicle interior. Stiff from all the sitting and looking forward very much to a shower and sleep, Richard stepped off the bus and into total darkness.
Fanny led Richard into a small hotel-like bedroom. "The party leaves for the council's mountain temple tomorrow at twelve o'clock sharp." She made a conclusive mark on her clipboard before reaching for the door handle and stepping through the door. "Good night, Mister Struggle."
Richard showered and got ready for bed feeling utterly exhausted. He was so tired that he hit the bed and fell asleep almost immediately, not even pausing to reflect that this would almost certainly be his very last night on Earth.
Richard woke up the following morning to the singing of birds. Did Creakylid have songbirds? He'd never thought to check. Now awake, familiar questions and uncertainties flooded his brain. He descended the stairs to the breakfast room where a breakfast buffet was lined out. He put a boiled egg on his plate and tapped it with a spoon.
Did Creakylid have chickens? Surely it did. The council said they were taking everything they'd need to jump-start a new civilisation. Surely that included chickens. His mind drifted down an oft-worried path. Surely that included books. He'd played it safe with his small library, buying textbooks on science and history and philosophy and all sorts of things, but he hadn't been able to get books on everything. He hadn't even been able to afford that copy of the Encyclopaedia Britannica he'd once found in the second-hand bookshop.
How much knowledge was he about to lose access to? The internet had been invaluable for all his preparations and he was about to lose it. He shivered. It wasn't hard to imagine why some people were refusing to leave Earth, despite the dangers the prophecy foretold.s
Richard finished his breakfast of bacon, sausages, tomato, beans, toast, egg, and cranberry juice. He stepped outside and dully beheld the mountain. It was a mountain. It was tall and snow-capped and misty. It was a mountain. Richard supposed he should be awed, but butterflies were battering their heads against his stomach walls, and all he could think of was that he was about to leave Earth and would probably never return. Right now, a mountain didn't seem quite as amazing as he thought it might have.
He slowly ambled down the main village street.
As he went, he couldn't help notice through his whisper magic that just about every person in this village was a mage. He passed a man turning himself into a donkey, surrounded by heavy looking gear and supplies. A little further on, a pre-teenage girl stood in front of a washing line, holding up her hands while a strong local wind fiercely blew the clothes this way and that. Probably a nitrogen elemental then, just like Matron. Everywhere he looked, people were double-checking backpacks and excitedly talking in groups — sometimes in French, sometimes in a language he didn't recognise, but more often than not, in English. It seemed he was the only one travelling alone. He reached the end of the street, looked up at the building he'd found himself at, and noticed it was signed with a dolphin holding a letter in its mouth. He frowned in mild confusion.
"Mister Richard Struggle?"
Richard started and looked around. He was being addressed by a man wearing a satchel. "Err, Yes?"
"I've a letter for you."
Richard blinked. Who'd be sending him a letter? And how did they know he'd be here? "Okay, I guess." He took the envelope the man handed him with an uncertain expression. "Um, how did you know it was me?"
The man paused in the act of turning away. "Got pictures of all the new folks, don't we? We'd have sent it on to England if we didn't know you'd be passing through here today. Have a good one." And with that, he left.
Richard blinked a few times before shrugging, ripping open the envelope, and pulling out the contents. The unbleached paper felt course under his fingers. The ink was dark brown and looked strangely organic. He read.
Richard Struggle,
I hope you don't mind me writing to you. A friend recommended I watch the hero prep memory you have in your crystal ball. It's really good! I don't think I've ever seen anyone quite so organised before, and that trick with the trunk is amazing! My name is Susie Conker and I'm living on Dragon Island. You said in your memory that you weren't sure where you wanted to go. Why not come here? There's a whole bunch of us trying to figure out how to tame the dragons that we found — to use them like people back on Earth use birds of prey in falconry (you can see a memory of the dragons in my grandfather's crystal ball. His name is Rodger Mortis Conker. I'm the one in the blue bikini). There's even a prize for the one who figures it out. We've already had people try to use whisperer rituals on them, but they don't work. No one knows why. Ack! I'm rambling. Anyway, we could use a few more hands and heads like yours over here.
Yours,
- Susie Conker
Richard folded up the letter, put it in his pocket, and grinned. Dragons? Blue bikini? He turned around and headed back towards his hotel. This he had to see. He was almost halfway before the next thought hit him like one of Thomas' iron bars. Exactly how had someone living that far into Creakylid heard about his preparation memory when he'd only stored it on his crystal ball less than a week ago?
Five minutes later, Richard's body lay on his hotel room bed while his trance-like mind stood on an unspoiled sandy beach. His fingers could feel the cool glass of the crystal ball held to his chest while his mind's eye told him he wasn't holding anything.
Waves lapped and crashed. The occasional seabird cried out. And they were birds. Well, that solved that little mystery.
An arm passed through his chest, ghost-like, and he jumped backwards in surprise, turning around to see four people — three girls of about his age, and one much older man who had to be Susie's grandfather.
Blue bikini. Richard's eyes flittered between the girls. There.
Susie's grandfather held a cage-like box.
Wow, she was pretty.
The box gave a loud screech.
She had to be at least a head shorter than him with long black hair and a curious mix of Asian and Caucasian facial features.
"You ready, girls?" Susie's grandfather asked.
And that stomach was so flat.
The old man put the box on the sand and reached for the cage door.
And everything else… wasn't.
The cage door opened, two small, clawed hands grasped the sides, and something launched itself from the box.
Richard gasped.
The thing got all of three meters before a long chain attaching it to the box by its neck snapped taut and it fell back onto the sand.
Richard's eyes widened. Dragon.
The small dragon unfurled its wings and screeched at Susie and the others. Its body was about the size of a chihuahua, but its wingspan had to be as long as Richard's leg. A tongue of flame shot from the dragon's mouth and Susie deftly stepped behind a wall of sand, which had leapt up from the ground at a flick of the wrist from one of the other girls.
Richard's eyes narrowed. A silicon or possible oxygen elemental?
The wall
of sand glowed red-hot and, moments later, a large globe of seawater splashed against it, causing a great cloud of steam to billow out, caking the wall in a thick, glassy crust.
The third girl had her hand thrust out towards the sea, eyes determined and focused. Even as Richard watched, more water globes levitated out of the sea swell. An oxygen or hydrogen elemental, then. Richard stepped around the wall and watched Susie carefully. Was she also an elemental? Or was she something else? She hadn't said in the letter.
The four would-be dragon tamers spent the next ten minutes alternatively feeding the dragon scraps of cooked fish when it performed a commanded task correctly and splashing it with water when it failed.
It looked like finicky work and, by the end of it, Susie still hadn't given any clue as to what type of magic she wielded.
Eventually, Susie's grandfather concluded the memory with a summary of their progress thus far, more details about the island and its mysteries, the timeline for the next egg laying season, and the prize for anyone who could figure out how to tame the dragons. It sounded like a sales pitch. The memory ended and Richard slowly sat up in bed, still fully clothed and feeling more alive than he had in weeks. He carefully put his crystal ball back in his satchel-like trunk, walked to the window, and stared out at the mountain he was soon to ascend. His eyes shined. Really, there could be no better first-step to exploring Creakylid than checking out this island of dragons, could there? And he had a written invitation from a pretty girl to boot. The fact that these dragons didn't respond to whisperer rituals, the magics that gave a mage power over a specified species of animal, only made it more intriguing. He smiled. Let Thomas go find his town of iron elementals. He would go in the other direction — he would head east.
CHAPTER THREE
A Diamond in a Woolly Jumper
The meeting place for the hike up the mountain hummed like the world's worst colour co-ordinated cocktail party. Gore-tex and polyester clothed men and women, brightly coloured in every hue known to man, filled the small village square. It was only the addition of identical sized green back-packs that gave any indication that this was an organised mission and not a student led fashion show in the year the chemical industry first discovered fluorescent paint.
As before, Richard heard plenty of English, but also French and German as well. He stared at the gathering and shook his head in mild amusement. "We just have to hope Creakylid doesn't have any large predators," he muttered. "Or they might as well be advertising an all-you-can-eat people buffet in brightly coloured packaging."
"Don't worry," said a calm voice behind him.
Richard started.
"We haven't found any large predators yet." It was Fanny Flymoth, still holding her clipboard with the pencil on a string dangling from it. She stood next to another girl of about his age, but this one, unlike Susie, had to be at least as tall as him. She had long, straw-coloured hair tied up in a sensible ponytail and a face that seemed always on the hunt.
"Well that's good, then," he said, glancing between Fanny and the girl.
The girl had elegance, definitely, but she was elegant in the way that a diamond was elegant — a diamond nestled in the tip of an industrial drilling machine. Her clothes, he felt, couldn't have been more practical if picked out by an elementary school teacher. Her boots were made of rubber. Her light blue jeans had clearly been chosen for comfort and convenience, rather than their ability to flatter the female figure. And her thick woolly jumper, embroidered with a picture of a galloping horse, looked like it could help catch the wind on a sail boat. Each individual item could not have been a better example of how not to dress to catch the male eye.
Which was weird, because, while Fanny finished talking about the hiking they were about to do, Richard's glances towards the girl gradually increased until it was an outright stare. Despite each piece of clothing looking like it came straight from the world's most expensive charity shop, the full ensemble had a pull that Richard found difficult to resist.
The girl, who hadn't really been paying attention until Fanny stopped talking, caught his stare and narrowed her eyes. "I do have eyes, you know."
Wow, her voice was smooth. Richard looked into her face and found himself staring into eyes as blue as ice and as sharp as icicles. "And what incredible eyes they are." Holy shit, did he just say that?
Fanny snorted.
The incredible eyes widened in shock for a moment before glaring at him.
Richard's mind went into full emergency mode. The most important thing right now was to not look away under any circumstances, and no matter what, don't — stop — smiling.
The girl glared for a fraction of a second longer before seeming to realise that he wasn't backing down. She hastily looked away, muttering something Richard didn't catch.
Whew.
Fanny made a note on her clipboard. "Richard, this is Elizabeth Whisper — Elizabeth, this is Richard Struggle. As you're both the only people travelling to Creakylid by yourselves today, I thought it would be a good idea to pair you up."
Richard's heart started to slow down. "Thanks, Fanny. See you at the temple?"
Fanny nodded, said a last few words to Elizabeth, and then left them alone in the crowd of several hundred mages.
"So," Richard said, sitting on the low stone wall behind him and patting the spot next to him invitingly, "Elizabeth Whisper?"
Elizabeth hesitated, then sat down half a dozen feet away.
Richard turned to face her and spoke slightly louder than a normal talking level so she could hear him over the hubbub. "Is that indicative of anything?"
Elizabeth refused to meet his eye. Instead she stared ahead at the milling crowd. "Do you mean, 'Do I use whisper magic?'"
"Yeah."
She nodded. "As it happens, yes, I do, but that has nothing to do with my name."
"Oh?" Richard always liked meeting other whisperers. "What animal did you choose?"
Elizabeth finally looked at him and fixed him with an expression that matched the sarcasm in her words when she said, "Take a wild guess."
The stallion on her jumper suddenly seemed to fill Richard's world.
"Oh, right." He rubbed the back of his head, realised he was doing it, and instantly stopped. "I guess that should have been obvious. Does Creakylid have horses, then?"
Elizabeth nodded. "We don't know if there are any native ones, but the council did take a collection of foals through and set up a stable on the mainland." She paused as though debating internally whether to continue before saying, "That's where I'm going."
"You're going to the mainland?" Richard asked. "Which city?"
"New Earth."
"Oh, hey! I'm going in that direction, at least for a little bit. Why don't we travel together?"
Elizabeth looked away again. "I'm quite capable of travelling on my own, thank you."
Richard stared for a fraction of a second before shrugging. It wasn't his place to pry. Silence dragged out between the two of them. Damn this was awkward.
Just for something to occupy his hands, he unthinkingly opened the lid of his trunk, still slung at his side, reached inside, and rummaged around for a bottle of water.
Elizabeth's sharp eyes snapped to his arm, which was buried in the tiny trunk up to his elbow. That was impressive in and of itself because Richard was sure she'd been looking the other way at the time. Her eyes widened. "How are you doing that!"
Richard grinned. Oh, yes, everyone liked magic tricks, didn't they? His fingers closed around a plastic bottle. Ah. There it was. "It's my magic trunk," he said, nonchalantly. "Good huh?"
"But, how?"
"It's my mother's spell."
"You're blood bound?"
Richard shrugged, suddenly feeling rather uncomfortable. "Sort of."
Elizabeth's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean, 'sort of?'"
"I'm officially an orphan. I've never known my family."
Elizabeth's face softened. Her eyes became slightly less sharp and her
pose less guarded. "Oh, I'm sorry."
Richard shook his head. "Don't be. I got a message from my mother three years ago along with details for the trunk spell, saying she was alive, but not telling me anything else."
Elizabeth blinked. "Just, 'I'm alive?' She didn't want to…" She hesitated and her voice softened another notch, "…Meet up, or anything?"
Richard shrugged it off while shaking his head. "Apparently not. I've no idea why. I haven't been able to find any family in the records with a spell that matches this one — I have looked."
"But, Creakylid…" Elizabeth's face morphed into confusion.
"What about Creakylid?"
"Well, it's a trunk too," Elizabeth said. "It must have been the same spell that made it."
Richard mouth opened minutely, before he firmly shut it again. Creakylid was a trunk? How had he never learned that? The letter from the council had just said it was a passageway to another world. Not even the cheap book he'd picked up at the temple in London had mentioned that. Suddenly the name Creakylid made a lot more sense. But the idea that his spell made Creakylid…
Richard shook his head. "Creakylid is a whole world. I've only been able to use the spell to make a trunk five times larger on the inside than on the outside. Highly unlikely."
Elizabeth bit her lip, eyes now narrowed again. She looked like she wanted to say more, but was holding herself back from doing so.
They sat in uneasy silence for a few more moments before Richard offered Elizabeth the water bottle.
Elizabeth took it, broke the seal, took a long drink, and held it back for him. "Thank you," she said, primly.
The pathway up the mountain wound around like string around a bobbin. Richard felt like a single soldier in a massive army, winding its way up an embankment to siege a mighty fortress. Surely he'd never seen so many mages walk together in his life before.