Tall Tales: The Nymphs' Symphony (Scott T Beith's Tall Tales Saga Book 1)

by Scott Beith

  “Light feeds everything, you know that right,” he added in lecture. “Even you, my friend,” he then teased, bumping me sideways and off the post, playfully, thinking I’d only asked because I wanted more darkness to enhance my own skills. That I was merely afraid I was about to be back in a place that made me the most weak and feeble individual all over again.

  “So what are you doing with that thing anyway?” I asked, changing the subject away from me and pointing to his wrist bracer, watching him again reopen its ceramic casing so he could force a fingertip of crackly electrical current into a small pocket of submerged tiny crystals deep inside the armband’s circuit matrix.

  “Hard to say – I’m not really sure to be honest,” he confessed “It was based on very old designs,” he explained, pointing to the solvent liquids in the bracelet as it began to glow from its crystal core. “Some say water and electricity don’t mix, but that’s a huge misconception,” he stated. “See, the problem is they work together too well. My father wrote about this radical idea in his journal once – that using saltwater instead of wires to transmit current would allow for a radial circuitry instead of conventional series and parallel… And that having a shell-layered orbital system would, therefore, yield a much higher compression rate for useful reactants – so long as the solvents don’t merge with those of the different level densities.”

  “And why is there suddenly a need for the risky upgrade?” I pondered back to him.

  “Well, because I think it’s the same quick but sophisticated method my father used to create the locking imprints he put around my mother,” he answered, taking off his glasses and rubbing his forehead as he did so, no doubt trying to politely work out how exactly he could simplify things for me to understand. “So the imprints are corroded and moulded onto my mother’s skin with engravings that could act as circuit pathways, so maybe he knows exactly how to unlock those bindings given the right voltage and its alternating sequence… But this kind of technology is far too advanced for me.”

  “Akoni… I stated, grabbing his shoulder as a comfort before I wished to proceed with my question. “I don’t want to be negative, but not everything your father does is elaborate and well thought through. What makes you so sure those bindings he put on your mother came with some form of failsafe? He was weak and desperate in the final moments before his defeat, mistakes can happen – even to clever men like him”.

  “It is reversible,” he immediately refuted.

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because it is,” he stubbornly responded, realising by his own immediate response that he was without evidence and sounding irrational, that he had taken it on faith that his mother’s restraints could be removed by simply deciphering some hidden chemical code.

  “Ok, then. I do too,” I said sympathetically. “You’re right, anything is possible. There’s a lot of things still left unanswered, and I’m sure if we’re patient enough, we’ll get to the bottom of all of them,” I then tried to reassure him, lowering my hand off his shoulder and rubbing his back with comforting resolve.

  For the two of us that was new territory crossed, as we never really addressed issues of vulnerability or awkwardness. Our friendship was mostly platonic and formal, with stubborn pride usually keeping either of us from confiding in one another over anything at all.

  “You know what is funny about all of this?” he asked me. “I think I was better off never knowing... That times were actually easier when soldiers used to tease me about my dad going crazy, rather than having them now avoid eye contact with me each time they pass me by.

  “Well, then, I guess there really is just no pleasing you,” I joked, trying to lighten the mood, and because I couldn’t think of any more comforting words to say.

  For the first time in a long time, I was genuinely lost for word. I used to be able to relate with him back when I believed we were both fatherless, but so much about that current situation felt so wrong and unexplained. Like there were trying to piece together a story made up of two completely separate jigsaw puzzles, with all the pieces jumbled together in a confusing mess.

  And although I knew that, much like Akoni, I had an obsessive habit for over evaluating the world around me. Regardless, I just couldn’t accept how things seemed to tie together. I was adamant something was being covered up, as at the very centre of everything, there was our current queen who was clearly refusing to take the easy option back home, whilst cowardly getting ready to leave the scene so that her officers could deliver the news to their soldiers and have to deal with the aftermath of forcing them to take the long way home.

  I watched the queen leave the group of soldiers and head in a separate direction to the doctor. Within that same small circle of smoothed buried pebble stones that ringed around the gateway stone, I could tell that Arlo and his Vanguard unit were all conjugating in a heated and bitter discussion of how to relay Milena’s commands with the unhappy combatants they were responsible for.

  I watched Arlo interact with them from that small distance, standing there by the pillar and its sandy shoreline, wondering how he could give his orders without being hated by all of his old friends.

  Devilishly, though, I was secretly hoping for one more night before my world would return back to normal. One more day of travel to ask all the things I wanted to ask, and yet say all the things I wanted to say, knowing that it would be the only time I could ever do so.

  “Akoni,” Milena shouted out, walking towards him and me with a limp, in a slow but determined march. “I’m going to need your aid with something,” she stated to him, standing over us both. “We’re going to make camp here through the twilight, but we need fresh water, and all we’ve got to work with is the ocean and its saltwater ravines. Is there anything you can think of that might help us make fresh water?” she asked.

  “Uh… yeah. If we can make clay, I believe I can think of something your majesty,” he answered back after a quick look around the area. “Actually, never mind… We could also just melt the sand into glass,” he then said, thinking out loud while Milena tapped her fingers against her sore leg impatiently.

  “So, you have an idea?” the queen pressed.

  “Yes. Yes, I do… We could, uh, remove the salt from the seawater if we can make a few clay jugs and bonfires,” he proceeded to explain.

  “Ok, well you just go up to Zephyr and tell him exactly what you need and he’ll order the men to get started,” Milena said to him, offering her hand to help pull him up. Politely insisting he get started straight away, although patiently waiting while he bent back down to collect all the little tools and parts he’d left scattered over the sands around both of us.

  “Well, for starters, we’re going to need a lot of wood tonight,” he mentioned to Milena while she ushered him towards Zephyr.

  “Ok. Fine. Be sure to tell him that,” she stated.

  “Alright, come here, Puppey. I need you now,” he called out towards his and Anara’s special companion, which left Anara to chase after him happily through the sand.

  “And tie that thing up when you’re done with it,” Milena then ordered upon his drifting departure. “It’s scaring the soldiers.”

  At that point, I realised I was alone beside my queen, with no one there to defend me. Milena continued to stand quietly over me, her gleaming blue eyes locked on mine. I gulped rather noticeably.

  “Kya, can I please have a few words with you?” she then said with a strange and formal politeness to her tone – something I found even more disconcerting than the usual snarky voice she used with me, considering no one else was here for her to need to hide her typical aggression towards me.

  “Yes, of course, your majesty,” I responded in kind, getting up quickly while she turned away, heading towards the field of piling up caravans, which were left loaded up yet unguarded. She didn’t look back to see if I was coming, but indicated for me to follow her all the way towards the end of the caravan line.

  We passed th
e regiments all arriving as other thankful soldiers dived into the ocean, just to cool down from the heat. We continued to walk down the beach pathway, silently and slowly, as I swallowed my own dread, wondering just how much trouble I was in. I was foolish to think I might have avoided the consequences of my actions. I hoped Anara was lurking nearby, invisible, ready to come to my aid, should I need it.

  On the left of me, we had the coast and the option of taking the solitary but scenic march home, whereas to the right was the option of going inland and passing through Treadfall: a place where we would be offered a royal welcome, with food and refreshments, and could travel along the paved and protected gravel roads all the way back home.

  As I walked along the beach with Arlo’s mother, I looked for him in some hope he might see me, but I could see he had his own problems, with him looking as if he was trying to explain to angry soldiers why we were taking the long scenic route back home – the option that would increase our travel time by at least half a day – and meant staying on the sands through the twilight rather than receiving both shelter and food from a neighbouring village of the crown.

  Arlo was leaning against the marble gateway stone, acting as if it were nothing more than a colourful rock, rather than a magical transportation device. He appeared to be blocking it from the soldiers while he convinced his men about the queen’s decision to undertake the less conventional path back home.

  I was surprised that Zephyr wasn’t among the soldiers arguing against the choice of path, but was rather in agreeance with the plan to stay along the beaches – a plan that meant he wouldn’t see his village.

  So it would seem Midas’s capture was a big deal to all parties involved. A terrifying individual to be left in joint custody overnight. It was as if his words were more infectious than his touch, making our queen very cautious and paranoid about where he was to stay and who he was to talk to. I guess more worried about his slick silver tongue than his two gold corrosive hands.

  Until this point, I hadn’t wished to even think about the implications of Midas’s return, but as it was so close to being near, I had no choice but to start wondering what would happen to him upon his arrival back into the Capital.

  He was too dangerous to be banished, and yet too resourceful to be imprisoned once again. He would most likely be executed – an absolute travesty that a man of a clear mental sickness, whose former deeds once saved our entire society, was going to be killed, simply because he was too dangerous to be allowed any measure of mercy or leniency.

  With a shiver running endlessly down my spine, Milena and I wandered past each regiment and their individual caravans. Those arriving soldiers timidly bowing before their queen as they snickered and smiled at me, acting as if I were a child about to be disciplined by a parent, and they were my fellow siblings who had been just as naughty, yet managed to escape getting into trouble. I wished it were the case of a simple ‘parental’ scolding, but I knew it was going to be a lot worse than that.

  And so, fearing the worst, I headed up side hills and along dunes with my queen, the path taking us through the small beach shrubs as we took a shortcut towards the back of the line, entering the flat grassy stretch of land that led up from the mountains. All while I feigned a confident bravado, despite the fact I was fairly sure she was leading me to the slaughter.

  “My queen, I–”

  “Not now,” Milena interrupted, still speaking with a calm and collected demeanour as we walked away from the foreshore. Both of us stopping at the second last caravan to arrive, where she waved the men away and allocated us our own space within the back of that new campsite.

  Her left hand moved over to the cart’s handle bars and had to give it a fair amount of force just to open the stuffy jewel encrusted cart, yanking down its canvas roof as the loot inside it caved down upon its own heavy weight, dropping out treasure by the dozens, all priceless silver and gold artefacts falling before my feet while I dived down to catch the rest of them from falling.

  “So, I’m afraid to say, you’ve got me at a standstill,” Milena said. “One might say a conflict of sorts,” she added. “On one side, you disobeyed me – again. Put my daughter into danger – again. You compromised our entire conquest because of your own selfish motivations to pretend you’re something you’re not,” she ranted with a stern and assertive emphasis to her speech.

  Normally, by then, I would have bowed my head in admission of my own guilt, but I surprised myself by keeping my head up, still confused by her calm and, so far, non-aggressive tone. Although still scared for my life, despite the generous rewards of priceless gold and silver trinkets she’d dropped at my feet.

  “On the other hand, however, if it were not for you and your reckless intervention, things may not have gone as well as they did,” she surprisingly complimented me. “Who knows how many might have died if you and Anara hadn’t helped Arlo and Akoni find a way out of Midas’s trap,” she confessed before giving a short pause, allowing me to process her words.

  “I am not going to be able to stop the rumours of what you did. When you’re home, you will be regarded as our cities newest hero… And, for that alone, You will have to be rewarded in some way,” she continued, kicking a couple more shiny ornaments towards me from under the wagon where they’d rolled. “So this entire carriage is yours,” she finally stated, with a certain level of dissatisfaction and defeat in her tone.

  “You’re joking,” I said, staring blankly down at the wealth of an entire castle in the making. “Thank you… Thank you, my lady,” I added, very confused over what was happening and bending down to inspect all the treasure at my feet.

  “Not so quick, Kya,” she then stated ominously, making me look up. “By rewarding your insolence, I’m going to encourage others to be just as rebellious as you, which means you cannot go completely unpunished either,” she continued, her tone changing to the vindictive one I’d expected at the start of the conversation. My back straightening stiff as I looked backed at her wide-eyed and fearful, two hands heavy and full of treasure as I stood there exposed and unable to protect myself from any sudden lashings she might wish to exercise.

  “You’ve become a real burden to the crown, you know that, right? And I don’t care what deals I have made, when we are home, you will collect your things and leave for good.”

  “Wait… What deals?!” I exclaimed. “You’re banishing me from the Capital? You can’t do that!”

  “Dear, I can do a lot more than just that, so don’t try and contest this,” she threatened, taking a closer step towards me. “This doesn’t have to be a fight, Kya… You were a servant without a family when you entered the Capital… And you could be a noble lady upon your exit. Leave and you’ll be free to do whatever you want, just not around my family,” she then said with a harsh snap to her voice.

  I knew she was giving me a lot more than she had to, but money meant nothing to me when it came to my safety. I was appalled at the thought of being kicked out of my home forcefully just like Midas had, even if it was her home she was kicking me out of. The old me would’ve accepted the treasure in a heartbeat, counting it as a win as I left her tyrannous capital for good, but the new me was more determined and resilient than ever. Smart enough to know this was hush money made to cover up some atrocious indiscretion she believed I knew about Midas and the campaign.

  “I’m not going to leave, Milena,” I stated abruptly and stubbornly, calling her by her name as a true test of my outstanding resolve.

  “What did you just say?” she demanded.

  “Midas knew who my parents were,” I said to her, gazing directly into her blue eyes as I dropped the treasure in my arms. “And I’m willing to bet that means you probably do too,” I said while taking a step over the colourful rubble to get closer to her in my own confrontation.

  “You’re just as insane as he is,” she quipped back to me defensively.

  “Why did you take me out of the orphanage all those years ago?” I asked, determined
to know the truth. “What is it that you know about my parents?” I pressed as I stopped being afraid of her and began to confirm my own suspicions based on the look of dread on her face.

  Milena put a hand out to my chest to stop me. “Say another word or take another step forward, and it’ll be your last,” she quickly threatened, only then did it burden me to know that I was indeed moving closer forward. “You’ll be buried here forever,” she viciously added, the immortal warrior within her beginning to burn its way through as I pushed my luck way too far.

  “If you could harm me, you would have done it already,” I snapped back in a hopeful but wild bluff, my heart pumping faster and faster, no longer in control of what I was saying but too far pledged to be able to back out of my choices. “Why do you hate me?” I finally asked, my aggression subsiding to curiosity as, for the first time ever, I dared ask that question out loud to her face.

  I could feel the treasures rolling and moving by my feet as I noticed the wind subtly wave and swoop around her body, as if her scaly looking skin was retracting like plate mail armour that prepared her for combat. It made me feel threatened enough for my lurking shadow to come out from the shade against the half open cart; it steadily rising from beside Milena and me. A look of concern filled Milena’s eyes as she gazed upon it – a look one might call ‘fear’, if they didn’t know any better.

  “Because you’re poison,” she responded back, unwilling to even attempt to hide it, although lowering her hands peacefully and dropping her guard as I too lowered mine. “Just like Midas, you taint everything you touch… You think I don’t see what you really want,” she continued. “Maybe your prize isn’t something as simple as silver or gold but, so long as others might believe it is, I really couldn’t care less, so first chance you get, get out of my castle – and leave any feeble affections you might have for my son or daughter behind as well,” she said. “I’ve offered you wealth beyond your wildest dreams… for doing something that would’ve sent any other to the gallows. And you’d dare spit that back in my face,” she continued, retaking her former authoritarian stand.