Paraworld Zero

by Matthew Peterson

A broken strap, attached to a leather harness, dangled freely in the air, but upon closer observation, Simon noticed the end of the strap had been gnawed through. The animal hadn’t been left behind; it had escaped.

  Fighting back the pain in his shoulder, he grabbed the harness with his good hand and sluggishly pulled himself onto the hairy beast. Delirious, Simon dropped the reins, allowing the large creature to roam as it pleased. With his strength depleted, all he could do was hug the animal’s back and pray that it would take him to someone who could help.

  They trod through the barren wasteland where, just a few days earlier, golden rows of wheat had stood. The big Puds had stripped the entire field clean.

  An hour sped by quickly while Simon went in and out of consciousness. When he awoke, he realized his companion was drinking from a small pond. Simon threw himself to the moss-covered bank, blazing with thirst, and stuck his head into the clear water. The cool, refreshing liquid revived his spirits a little.

  He cupped his hand and was about to drink when something in the water startled him. At the bottom of the innocent-looking pond lay thousands of bones.

  Simon jumped to his feet and staggered back a few paces. He noticed a small ripple in the center of the pond that grew bigger and bigger. Black oil bubbled to the surface. Slowly, the dark liquid collected into one body until it coagulated into the consistency of tar. Without warning, the dark mass raced towards the shore.

  “Come on, big guy,” Simon yelled, tugging on the leather strap to get the farbearus to move, but the stubborn creature refused to budge.

  The hairy beast looked up from drinking just in time to see a huge mound of black jelly leap from the water. Thick goo engulfed the entire mammal, as well as Simon’s forearm. The black jelly gave a tremendous yank, which pulled them both towards the pond.

  The farbearus didn’t have a chance, but Simon was more fortunate. As he fell to the ground, the black goo ripped off him like putty and removed his shirtsleeve in the process. Simon looked at his bare arm and realized that the burning sensation he felt was due to the fact that most of the hair on his tender skin had just been pulled out.

  Lying flat on his belly, he watched the pond as it erupted into a commotion of thrashing waves. Somewhere in the turmoil, an item ejected from the water and landed next to him. The scared boy looked over to see a leather harness, mutilated and foaming with acid.

  At that moment, Simon found his second wind. He sprinted away from the pond, screaming in terror, not daring to look back.

  He slipped on the moist grass a couple of times but kept running. After reaching a small hill, he spun around to check on the creature, but to his horror, he found it standing right behind him.

  Simon darted up the steep hill just as a couple of oily tendrils shot out of the black jelly. He thought that surely the monster wouldn’t be able to follow him up the hill, but it proved him wrong.

  The grass turned brown as the strange creature pulled itself up the hill with its two wiry arms. Simon fervently wished he had his hover chair. His body protested with every movement.

  When he finally reached the top, a sickening feeling spread throughout his entire frame. He stood at the edge of a steep ravine, and down at the bottom of the gorge lay a rushing river.

  Without hesitation, Simon jumped. Unfortunately, the dark blob spilled over the edge as well. But as it fell, a strong updraft thrust into the monster’s formless body, causing it to balloon like a parachute.

  A moment later, Simon plunged into the river below… SPLAT—and so did the blob of jelly. But as it splattered against the water, its liquidlike body broke up into a million droplets of black oil that soon vanished within the harsh current.

  Simon felt the hammer of a thousand little bubbles attempting to smother him. His lungs were about to explode, and he feared his handicapped arm would prevent him from reaching the surface. But just then, he touched the hard bottom of the riverbed, so he kicked himself upward with all his might. A rush of air filled his lungs as he burst through the surface of the river.

  Trying to stay afloat, Simon grasped at nearby debris, but after a short while, he found himself still struggling to stay above the cold water.

  If I could just find a branch big enough to hold onto…

  Something large brushed against him. Petrified, Simon gasped but then saw, to his relief, that it was just an old log. A log! He seized the long piece of timber with his good arm and held on tight. Now that he was relatively safe, Simon glanced around at the sheer walls of rock that enclosed both sides of the river. Gray birds with long beaks and sharp talons watched him closely as he floated by. One after the other, they thrust off the wall and plunged into the water for hard-shelled crustaceans. Two of the birds never emerged from the river.

  The frothy water chilled Simon to the bone but also soothed the pain in his shoulder. In fact, he hardly noticed the tingling sensations of the poison anymore.

  After a few minutes, the cliff walls finally disappeared and were replaced by fertile banks filled with lush vegetation. Sago palms and leafy ferns lined the river, and tall prehistoric-looking trees jutted everywhere.

  Despite the picturesque scenery, Simon’s eyes widened at what else he saw. Ferocious creatures, full of menacing teeth and claws, bathed at the river’s edge. The boy doubted he’d be able to swim to the embankment anyway, especially because of the swift current. He ducked as a bear-like animal with extraordinarily long arms raised its head to stare at him. It took a step forward, but a reptile nearby gave a warning hiss. The water was no place for mammals. Simon hugged the log and held his breath. The bear-like animal growled and then backed away.

  Simon found it difficult to exhale. How much longer would he have to endure these trials? He hungered for food and water. He yearned for a warm bed. And most of all, he wished for the pain in his shoulder and arm to go away. But none of those things really mattered. If he didn’t get back to the city soon, everything and everyone might be lost. He thought of his friends and gained an added measure of hope and determination. He had to try.

  The width and depth of the river increased rapidly. Every once in a while, the boy thought he saw the end of a jagged tail or the tip of a sharp fin. He wondered how much safer he really was in the river. For all he knew, there could be piranhas—or even worse, dragunos—in the water.

  While contemplating this very thought, the long timber he held onto suddenly bobbed up and down. Choking on a mouthful of icy water, Simon turned to see a twenty-five-foot crocodile chewing on the far end of the log. Even more shocking, the strange reptile had several rows of tall, colorful spikes running down its back and two thrashing tails.

  The monster spun the large piece of wood around like a toy, causing Simon to lose his grip and float off in another direction. Attracted by the boy’s movement, the scaly reptile abandoned the log and headed towards him. It opened its hideous mouth and let out a deep, gargled roar.

  Just then, a giant fin glided past Simon’s small frame. The boy looked down to see something dark and massive swimming directly underneath him. In a sudden fury, a gigantic yet agile shark sprang upwards and clenched its jaws around the two-tailed crocodile.

  Like a crippled frog, Simon floundered through the bloody water for the safety of the log. Although he no longer had any feeling in his left arm, he still reached the floating piece of driftwood. By this time, the giant shark was dining on its fallen prey at the bottom of the deep channel.

  Simon began to shiver uncontrollably. He wasn’t sure if the trembling came because of the cold water, the frightening experience he’d just had, or the spider venom, but what he did know was that he couldn’t stay in the river much longer and expect to live.

  Almost as if in answer to a prayer, the boy glimpsed a school of small boats just up ahead. The river spilled into the ocean, and there, the fishermen waited to catch the fish that swam out to sea. Simon’s heart jumped for joy as he got closer to the skiffs.

  He felt a dull numbness enshroud his bod
y, and when he breathed, he couldn’t seem to get any air into his lungs. Hypothermia was setting in—either that, or the spider’s poison had finally chosen to kill him.

  The boy tried to scream, but his chest hurt so badly that he was forced to stop. He looked up at the closest boat and saw the big Puds pointing in his direction. He was saved!

  Simon watched in earnest as the fishermen rowed their boat frantically towards him. Some of the men continued to wave their hands and point. After seeing the strange looks on their faces, Simon realized that maybe they weren’t pointing at him. Confused, the boy looked behind and saw a twenty-foot-long shark jumping out of the water—just like a swordfish would do. In fact, it even had a tiny sword-like beak attached to its upper jaw. The white, slender shark glided across the water in his direction.

  “It’s not fair,” Simon moaned. “Just leave me alone.”

  He watched sorrowfully as the shark’s mouth drew open in what looked like a menacing grin. Simon was too sleepy and exhausted to care anymore. Not wanting to give the shark the satisfaction of a stationary kill, he released his grip on the log and descended into the ocean. But before his head was even completely submerged, he felt a large hand clutch his shoulder and pull him out of the water.

  A second later, the shark struck the log with its sharp beak, splitting the wood in two. Angry, the aggressive creature circled around and leapt right onto the small wooden skiff. It slid across the bow towards Simon.

  Delirium swept the boy to his knees. His eyes fluttered. The shark opened its jaws for the kill. Suddenly, a spear pierced through the shark’s head from behind, bit into its brain, and came out of the creature’s gaping mouth. At that same moment, Simon fainted.

  The large fishermen attacked the shark with their clubs, and the giant who had slain the creature approached Simon. He reached down with his mighty hand and picked up the black medallion that had fallen from the boy’s neck. A look of understanding came into the big Pud’s eyes as he stared in awe at the young wizard before him.

  Chapter 22

  Morbras Will Save Us

  “Simon… Simon…” came the cool, delicate voice from the woman in his dream. The words left her lips like notes from a song.

  You have proven strong and overcome

  The tribulations thus far.

  From a boy to a man you have grown,

  Yet many trials you still must face.

  From fiery demons to icy snow,

  You shall triumph over all.

  Yet to conquer all, you must be humbled,

  Or pride will conquer you.

  Your second gift, I now bestow:

  Poison begone!

  To harm you nevermore.

  The beautiful young woman began to disappear into the mist once more. “Please don’t go,” Simon begged. “You still haven’t told me who you are.”

  As she faded away, her final words echoed in his mind. “My dearest Simon. The answer is found within.”

  Perplexed by her response, Simon opened his eyes. His vision slowly came into focus. He saw a large face staring down at him.

  “Si-moan almost fish bait.”

  “Har?” Simon said, astonished. The roaring fire nearby illuminated the grassy interior of the hut. Evening shadows danced upon the walls and played with the light from the crackling flames. “How did I get here?”

  “Father find Si-moan. Father save Si-moan.”

  A giant man approached the bed. His clothing consisted of animal skins, musty and worn. A long rope wrapped around his shoulder and chest, as if it were part of his natural attire.

  “Simon,” he said. “I is Harr.” He extended his huge hand. “Nice… to… meet… you.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Simon said, shaking the large paw. “Thank you for saving me. I thought I was a goner.”

  “Simon almost die,” the man explained, trying to piece the words together into an intelligent sentence. “Cold water slow down poison. Simon smart to go in river.”

  “I didn’t realize,” he said, sitting up. “I just kinda fell into the situation.” He stretched out his tired arms. “Wow! I feel great now.”

  With a look of surprise, Harr reached over and removed the bandages on the boy’s shoulder. He then dug his big thumb into the spider bite.

  “This no hurt?”

  “Ouch, ouch!” Simon yelped. “Yeah, that’s pretty tender. What I meant to say was that I can move my arm again. The poison must have worn off.”

  “Poison no… no… no wear off. Poison kill,” said Little Har.

  “Poison no kill!” his father exclaimed. The large man opened the front door and yelled out to his tribe, “Morbras! Morbras! Morbras comes!”

  A group of giants entered the hut with looks of amazement on their faces. One by one, they approached Simon’s bed and touched his shoulder while chanting, “Morbras comes.”

  Simon whispered to Little Har, “Who’s this Morbras they’re talking about?”

  “Si-moan… is Morbras,” he said slowly. The big Puds bowed down in reverence. Har concluded, “Si-moan our king.”

  “WHAT?” His response was so abrasive that everyone stopped chanting at once. “I’m not your king!”

  Big Harr stood. “Legend say… Morbras will come… and protect us… Poison cannot hurt Morbras… Morbras our king.” As the big Pud spoke, two giants placed a wicker basket at the bedside.

  “Look, guys, I know you might believe in some old fable, but I have a perfectly good explanation for this.”

  The big Puds backed away from the bed while an old man opened the basket with a long stick. Before Simon could continue, a pit viper emerged. In an instant, the venomous snake rose high enough to become eye level with the boy. Simon froze.

  He stuttered under his breath, “Wh-Wh-What are you d-d-doing? I’m not Morbras.”

  The snake swayed back and forth, staring at the frightened boy. Then, without warning, it struck and bit Simon on the arm with its two-inch fangs. Har’s father grabbed the serpent’s head and pried it from Simon’s flesh.

  Still holding the squirming snake in his hand, Harr said, “Now we show you… that you are Morbras.”

  Simon felt the neurotoxins race through his bloodstream. The room started to spin, and intense pains jabbed at his stomach. Falling back onto the bed, he moaned, “I’m not Morbras. I’m not Morbras. I’m not…” Suddenly, the pain disappeared, and the room stopped spinning.

  “Simon…” came the deep voice of Har’s father from above, “…is Morbras.”

  The boy sat up and looked at his arm in dismay. The nasty-looking fang marks were still there, but the poison in his body seemed to be gone.

  The big Puds continued their quiet chanting. “Morbras comes… Morbras comes…” They all bowed down again; some even prostrated themselves upon the ground.

  “Please,” Simon cried. “Don’t.”

  Har’s father put the viper back into the wicker basket and said, “Morbras needs rest.” He shooed the crowd from the hut, but Little Har remained at Simon’s bedside.

  “I don’t understand,” Simon groaned, trying to nurse his wounded arm.

  Harr pulled out some herbs from a pouch on his belt and ground them with a stone. “I is sorry,” the giant said as he worked. “So sorry.”

  He spit in the mixture twice to give it a pasty consistency. “I plucked you from river,” the man boasted. He rubbed the herbs onto the puncture wounds. Simon winced. “Sent from God… you are.”

  The man took some bandages from his bag and wrapped them around Simon’s arm to stop the bleeding. “Morbras…” he mumbled softly. “Morbras will free us all.”

  “Please don’t call me that. My name is Simon.”

  “Si-moan?” said Little Har.

  “Yes, just Simon.”

  “Simon must rest,” Harr said calmly. “Come, Little Har… Let us go.”

  “Wait,” Simon called out. “I’m starving.”

  “Si-moan hungry?” said Little Har.

  “Y
es, big guy… and thirsty.”

  Har’s father consented. “I go… get food for king.” The giant left the hut to gather some food.

  Simon opened his mouth to speak when he noticed two identical twins sneaking into the room. They eased their way closer and closer, as if frightened to approach the young wizard.

  “Come. No be afraid,” Har said to the young men. “Si-Moan, here my brothers. This Harrr and this Har-rr.”

  “You’re kidding me.” Simon laughed; the pain in his arm had subsided. “You all have the same name?”

  “No,” Har said, scratching his ear. He pointed a finger at each brother and then crossed his arms and pointed at them with the opposite hand. “This Harrr and this Har-rr.”

  “No, Har. I Harrr,” the first Pud said, drawing near.

  “And I Har-rr,” the other one chided.

  Just then, three more Puds bounded into the room. “This Har-r-r,” Har introduced. “This Harrr-r… and this Har-rr-r.”

  Simon could hardly tell a difference in the way Little Har pronounced their names. “Man, I bet your family reunions are just a blast to go to,” he joked. They all looked puzzled. “I mean,” Simon tried to explain further, “everyone probably has a hard time remembering your names.” Still, none of the large boys seemed to understand what he was referring to. “I bet your mom and dad mix up your names all the time,” he added with an uncomfortable laugh.

  This time, the big Puds all looked down at the ground in sorrow.

  “Did I say something wrong?”

  “Momma no come back,” Little Har said. “Momma get water at river… and no come back.”

  “Dra-goon-nos eat her,” Harrr blurted.

  His twin brother punched him in the arm and cried, “No say that! Momma no get eaten!”

  Harrr-r joined the fight. “Har-r-r find dra-goon-no tracks! Huh, Har-r-r?”

  “Yes,” Har-r-r answered.

  “No mean Momma get eaten,” Har-rr-r said, including himself in the argument. He slugged Harrr-r in the arm as he spoke.

  “Guys!” Simon intervened. “Guys! You don’t have to fight about this. You lost your mother, and that’s a terrible thing. I should know. I lost my mother as well, but you can’t just argue about it. You have to stick together.”