by Parnham, N
Seating myself, I opened the first book. Aged charmingly, crisp to the touch and sorted alphanumerically; I carefully turned the pages, raising my head in thought; but to no avail, I could not think of any possible names.
Shrugging off the set back, I saw another assistant moving a large wooden trolley, on an outlandish rope structure, stacked high with books, ready to be placed back in their specific homes. Speaking to her, she promptly directed me over into a barely lit corner of the room and pointed with her scrawny finger to “the amulets of ancients”. Thanking her, she continued with her daily tasks.
I gazed for a moment at the leather covering, etched with archaic floral designs, loosing myself as I weaved throughout; my eyes jolting furiously as though becoming unbalanced by madness; I shook my head, managing to regain a state of normality and removed the book from the shelve.
I directed myself towards a vacant seating area. The cover black, like charcoal unlit, it portrayed an amulet affront, with eight curved edges and a gem centred within. I began to read. The words described ancient myths of rarely told of places:
“Far be it the land of Malkarertz has but seven gates, the first unlocked only by one's desire within; a world awaits those who are found worthy to venture there. The amulets do wait before thee, each with the power to unlock another; be it you find the sixth, the seventh will follow”.
Mentioned loosely inside of the grimoire was the location of where these gates were to be found:
“Within the woodland of the north, lay a cave marked by trees of eternal growth; they circle and entomb so that only the worthy shall see”.
After writing down adequate details upon the folded parchment, I exited the librarium; my last breath exhaled with a disapproving tone to the assistant at the entrance, which was met with similar visual hostilities.
I wandered back to Miltontree Lane, seeing Doris at the market, I increased my pace so as to catch her.
“Doris, I need a quick word please”.
“Why hello darling, how can… I help you? Darling you have a cut on your face”.
Touching my face, I felt the slight trickling of blood, how strange; picking up a shard of glass I watched my reflection appear distorted, between the smeared mud.
“No more”. I said in an eager tone.
“I have had enough strange events for a lifetime. Now Doris, I have been to the librarium, I need to ask for your permission for time off my duties, if I may?”.
“Yes my dear that is fine; perhaps Snitzel can clean the rooms instead; I heard paw prints are the new must have. Do not forget that I am here if you ever do need me my darling”.
With that I needed to prepare; looping between people spending their coin in the market, I nearly ended up like a fish in a net. I eventually managed to make my way back to the inn. Upon returning, I collected my coin, placing it within a strong leather pouch for if at all I may need it; I did not know what to expect from where I was going, or if I even could arrive at all, so searching my room I gathered several varieties of food, a small silver dagger that was given to me by my father (embossed with ancient symbols and a fragment of a dragon's claw) as well as other smaller useful items.
Well prepared, I headed north afoot to “Malkarertz Forest”. A large flower, the Raven Orchid, marked the opening to the forest; the darkened petals bellowed words of death, granted to journeys long forgotten. Wildlife trickled through my gaze, quivering as I raised their attention. The trees stood self-righteous before the undergrowth below, reaching heights not touched by man, their roots seizing the ground below. The sun blazed gloriously upon the forest; the trickles of darkness forbidden upon the tops of the trees, a love given above from the mighty, stripped of splendour as it ventured to the forest floor below.
I walked unhurried, noting the small creatures as I passed by; one in particular caught my attention; my education did not warrant me to know the name, purple shaded, rounded and with eyes so great in number I could not begin to guess. As this creature moved, trails of what seemed familiarly like dust catapulted from behind. I continued, etching my way closer and yet perhaps further away with each step; how could it be that I would find a place I did not know how to find, or even where to begin.
The trees surrounding me, I began to feel somehow more comforted, as though blanketed, but at the same time a sinister feeling lurked predominantly in my mind; the fury of unknown worlds could come and strike against me, the source of all nightmares could unravel twisted games; nonsense I suppose, yet what if it were so, the thoughts my parents guarded me from, thwarted in disregard, perhaps did somehow have a place in reality.
Falling deeper into my thoughts, I sat within a hollowed out trunk, it looked as though soulless, but life grew throughout; ivy crept through the cracks that had formed, rising up, attempting to regain what once was. I leant my head aback, resting for a moment. One by one the sombering thoughts that led my mind astray casually vanished, replaced by the love I felt cocooned in the arms of Alexander. Numerous times had we gone on adventures to places we had never seen before and just like the journey today, we would always find a way to return somehow.
My legs began to ache from the jagged ground I was sitting upon; branches laden beneath me giving discomfort in almost every position. Choosing to arise I continued to walk aimlessly. The forest floor seemingly sloping down as I walked; a descent almost unnoticeable to the untrained wanderer. How I miss Doris, I thought to myself; it has only been a short while, but already I need some guidance to help me, a scrap of knowledge to feed upon.
A strong gust swept in from behind me, taking me by surprise and then as if meant to shock, the sound of thunder erupted skywards; the clouds darkening effortlessly, as though given authority to trample any light that stood in the way. A flash of lightning ripped through the sky, giving a glorious display unto the Gods for which it was created; droplets began to fall, landing upon me in somewhat irritating ways.
Without warning, the rains swept among the trees, their power ignited into a fully-fledged storm; I needed to find somewhere to shelter. Raising my pace I noted all of my surrounding areas; a rock ledge I saw could provide cover, but I would have to compromise on my feet becoming laden with water, from the stream that flowed beneath.
After hours had passed, I slowed my pace; I had almost given up hope of finding a suitable shelter, now I was just hopelessly wandering among the trees. Coming across a large opening in the forest, I saw a small pool of crystal-like water that sparkled as the rains gave into the unity it was destined for. The sky as dark as it may be, had no place here, as the sun boldly ripped through. A tranquil feeling entombed me as I saw a wonderous waterfall, it glinted colours drawn in from paradise, some of which I had not had the opportunity to fully glimpse, as they were taken away as soon as I saw their beauty.
I could see a hollow in the rock, aback of where the water flowed down. Carefully moving along the bank of the pool, I managed to slip behind the water; there was but just a fraction of leeway to gain entry, without becoming somewhat wet.
The cave was sufficiently sized for one person, any more and unwelcome compromises may of had to be suggested. The roof of the cave was jagged, but not sharp to the touch; the floor smooth, most likely caused by the waters, rising through the passage of the seasons.
Placing my items at the back of the cave, my eyes passed across every rock face, seeking out any formidable creature(s) that may be lurking, my hand ready and armed to give the deadly blow; thankfully I found none on this occasion. Warmth was what I really required now and as the sun was soon to set, light would not go a miss.
Above me I could make out roots from the trees creeping through cracks, perfect for starting a fire I thought. Reaching back to my sack I took out my silver dagger and cut off all the roots that I could see through the limited light; some of which created more of a challenge than others. I carefully mounded the roots that I had gathered close to the entrance of the cave. I had no oil, or flint to start a fire, so I would have
to use my knowledge of magick to help.
Magick though, was not one of my strongest points, but one incantation I knew of was ‘Anzeo Faborlay’.
My hands raised, I began to visualise the flames shooting from within, engulfing the roots; I saw the flames glowing brighter as my will for this dreamed reality to become as fact grew. My hands beginning to warm I could feel my effort would be without failure. My eyes began to dance wildly, as my connection grew stronger; feeling as though I had become the vision, my whole existence placed itself within the roots, taking a journey, diving and weaving throughout, every sense in my body erupting and with a final push I gave my purest desire. With the opening of my eyes the world around me momentarily seemed like a visual dilemma, blurred out of perspective. The flames had erupted before me and I could feel the burst of warmth circling me and protecting me.
Sneaking a peek at the fire as though a child playing, I was elated to know I was able, still at this moment in time to do all be it, a small work of magick; this act was inseparable from the journey I was to undertake, for who knew what I was to come against, what person(s) or creature(s) that may heed my passage to Alexander.
Being quite the joker I was, I opened my sack and took out a small handful of pumpkin seeds, throwing them onto the flames with a smile upon my face; the popping and crackling of the seeds brought to me a mild amusement, as was the same when I was younger; Doris and I used to scare the baker’s mistress, adding a bag or so of the seeds to the coals that were lit, then watching satisfied at her sudden departure, thinking the wife was soon to return.
Now warmth was pouring out around me, I could get some much needed rest. I placed a thick woven sheet beneath me, just to add a mediocre amount of comfort, it was a novelty really, a stone bed, I guess tortures have been more outlandish in the times of old. Spreading myself out, avoiding the cold floor on my bare skin, I cupped my head into my arm, closing my eyes and slowly my mind drifted away to blankness, until sleep was upon me.
The dream began as every other, a misled carousel of unrelated imagery, but then I was given a sense of stability; I could see myself as though a third person, every action I chose, while being well aware I was asleep.
It was a wonderous looking lake; boats were coupled together as if married; in the distance, upon a faraway shore, I saw an opening in the hillside, where water streamed freely. The leaves on the trees crisp and the colours vibrant, perhaps the sun had darkened patches of them as there was much contrast in their tones, which merely added to the beauty. Down to my right I could see a stone path, the borders were lined devoid of mistake, with white roses forming a barrier of a kind; as I know quite well, the thorns of roses do enjoy slicing un-regretfully at skin.
My eyes following the path down, a small church had been built at the end, the stonework as if newly finished, the sparkles on the water reflecting light upon the windows, which gave breath-taking light displays.
Next to the church was a group of children leisurely sword fighting with lengthy branches, laughter and the occasional playful scream came from them as they joked. This place was rather desirable, no lewdness as I often found back home.
I walked towards a group of cottages, white smoke passed through the chimney pots, rising to the clouds above. I thought myself to be next to the cottages and before a whisper could become a word, I was there. The smell of a freshly baked pie enthralled me, to the point of where saliva began to seep out of my mouth; but no one seeming to be around, I decided to look through the front window of a graceful little cottage. It was smaller than the others, but it was maintained to a standard that seemed all be it obsessive. I opened the entrance door, then shrieked as it produced a high-pitched sound from the not so new hinges. The door itself was made of solid oak, almost half a foot thick, with engravings of various common creatures arched close to the rim, the handle cast-iron and a small peephole centred atop.
I could see the pie I craved a few feet away, on a strong and rounded stone table, the top of which was plain in design, but the feet given a similar look to that of the claws of a bird; perhaps this cottage was reserved for that of a hunter, or even a mason. Leaning over the pie I inhaled with delight at the smells of freshly cooked pheasant and without care cut myself a small slice, devouring it in a very none lady like manner. Crumbs began to pile up as I ate, the tastes of pheasant and rosemary infusing me; the pastry perfectly cooked, as if baked by the hands of a genius; light and fluffy teasing my taste buds and the pheasant tender to the touch, giving the perfect combination.
A large jug of freshly made rose water sat hidden in the shade, as if not to spoil; pouring a glass, or perhaps two if I may, I washed away any unforgiving morsels of food that had decided to become entombed between my teeth.
It was at that moment a strange noise began to be cast towards me, it was faint at first, the sound of drums being used, gaining speed with every moment that passed. I walked outside, pondering where this sound was coming from. Behind the trees was a huge wall, which reached as far as I could see. The sounds got louder, as I stood there staring; with the beating of the loudest drum, my dream became broken and my eyes opened and I realised it was all but a fantasy.
CHAPTER 3
Awoken, I quickly rose; it was still dark, the time I did not know, but the rains had ceased at least for now. I could still hear the drumming, now even more clearly.
Collecting my items I left the cave, again carefully avoiding the water as it fell; standing firm upon the ground, I attempted to place a direction on the drumming, turning my head, listening for a droplet of a clue.
Beginning to find a suitable route to follow, I climbed upon the rock faces, aside to the water’s edge, grasping tight upon soggy branches, my hands slipping on occasion as I made my way atop. As I rose up, I saw a small pool, only a few metres wide, fish swam within, keeping a safe distance from the torrents of water close by; their scales were coloured distinctly with variations of red tones, almost the same as my finest evening gown.
Walking by the side of the river, I often lowered myself to avoid becoming tangled between ferocious weeds and on the odd occasion small creatures crossed my path, just evading becoming trampled upon as they did so.
The trees were adorned fruitfully with flowers of many sizes and colours, their fragrance at times overpowering, leading myself to become somewhat light headed, but as always I managed to maintain a certain decorum about myself, even if it was fraudulent; for it may be a single moment before and dare I say it, a noble person appears in this unforgiving place; but I suppose, none would venture to a distant world such as this, not without the very best delicacies delicately caressing upon their greedy, self-indulgent lips.
The walk was short and steady as I came closer to the drumming; now I began to hear the sounds of people singing, although the words were not clear to me as yet. Moving closer I hid myself behind a well-positioned selection of shrubbery, folding back a few of the leaves, I looked and listened to the group of people below; they sang a song, cheerful and endearing to my ears:
“The passing of the broken hearts, the growing of the free, tonight I see a rising soul, the love for you and me.
Let the truth of merry rise their glasses and let the sad shine in glee, for tonight we marry the couple here for everyone to see.
Not a tear, nor a curse, can break up this bond, for each of you have seen these two are rather fond. No broken, no smashed, no devoured nor hunted in rash, no snagging, or nagging, or even the typical bragging, just a smile of love from you and me, for the happy couple to be.
The passing of the broken hearts the growing of the free, tonight I see a rising soul, the love for you and me”.
A smile crossed my face as I watched them sing and dance, a marriage, the most loving of unions, a joy filled occasion and I am lucky enough to see it. I tapped cheerfully along to the intoxicating sound of the music, hitting harder upon the floor with each verse that passed; before I knew it I was tumbling down the hillside, as I had lost my ba
lance.
A sudden silence crept throughout the crowd of people as they turned their focus over to me. Around twenty of them gathered towards me, they were tall, very tall in fact, the smallest being around seven foot. Both the males and the females were muscular in dimension, veins enlarged with any movement they made. The glistening of their eyes caught my attention, not like any other I had seen before, they were average sized compared to humans, but they were illuminated by thousands of differing colours, moving gracefully in all directions. Their skin was pale as almost white, their hair perfectly smooth, shoulder-length and brown fading to red; the females wore garments composed of what appeared to be a type of wool, but it was dyed in such a way to show off splendid designs, affront and back; the men however wore plain black and brown clothing, providing a huge distinction between the sexes.
The tallest of all the men approached me. My heart began to race at the thought of possibly being tortured, killed, or perhaps something even worse. He spoke to me in a demanding tone:
“Who is it that dares venture to the land of ‘Yilesul’? Speak now or a carcass you shall become”.
“I am Avis”. I said in the voice like unto a mouse.
“Avis whom? I demand to know, now”.
“Avis Aldebourne, I am sorry, really I am, and I did not mean to interrupt your celebrations. I was admiring them from close by and I... I fell down”.
“And what business do you have being here? What allowance… do you grant to be in our lands?”.
I paused for a moment, giving thought to the question he had asked, deciding if the truth would be enough.
“Answer me Avis, my patience is starting to fray”.
“I am from Malkarertz; I am but an average woman, not overly poor but neither rich; my husband he was taken from me in the night by a force, I have no idea by what. I have come to try to find him, if I can…”. Looking at his stern posture this seemed like a lost idea now.