The exercise:
Let us return to The Dream Kingdom, as it is time to put the pieces in place in preparation for next month's conclusion.
I won't be able to get to this for a couple days. Feel free to wait for me or to go ahead and I'll follow. I don't mind either way.
5 comments:
Okay, here we go. This is definitely going to take more than one comment.
So begins the 11th installment of The Dream Kingdom...
Mine:
It was not difficult to see why the sea gate had been either forgotten or disregarded as an entry point to the Lighthouse. The towering, jagged rocks which guarded it were packed so closely together that no vessel larger than what the foursome voyaged in would have been able to squeeze between them.
As it was, they only narrowly avoided an impromptu burial at sea.
Once they had maneuvered their way past the massive, rusting gate, the water became eerily calm. In the dim light which followed them inside they could make out a small sandy beach opposite the entrance and what appeared to be an open doorway at the mouth of a narrow hallway beyond it.
"Too easy" Dylan grumbled as he and Olivia brought their boat to shore.
"Never in any doubt," Nystor proclaimed as he jumped onto the beach.
"You seem... chipper," Olivia said, "despite the worst of our troubles still lying ahead of us."
"Have faith!" Nystor said, spreading his arms wide. "We've made it this far, haven't we?"
"What's gotten into him?" Josh muttered as he struggled out of the boat, the bundle of swords over his shoulder.
"Side effect of the wild magic?" Dylan suggest quietly as he checked the swords before passing Olivia her katanas.
"If he goes mad in here..." Olivia didn't need to finish her thought. The consequences were obvious to each of them.
"Come, come!" Nystor had reached the doorway already and was waving them onward impatiently. "Time's a wasting, as they say."
"Anyone remember to bring a flashlight?" Dylan asked before pausing to sniff the air. "What is that? Smells almost fishy."
"Probably those rags you're wearing," Josh said. "Should have taken them off before jumping in the water."
"Fat chance," Olivia told him with a hard stare. Which she was unable to maintain due to having to violently rearrange her robe. Somehow the stolen clothes were even more uncomfortable wet.
"Probably just dead fish, brought in by the tide," Nystor said dismissively. "And worry not about the darkness... I will light our way."
The old man extended a hand before him and moments later a small, glowing orb appeared in his upturned palm. Its light wavered slightly before steadying.
"Can't see much with that," Olivia pointed out. "Better than nothing though, I suppose."
Nystor sniffed loudly before leading the way forward. The walls of the passage glistened with moisture, and small patches of seaweed appeared at irregular intervals. Josh stopped to rip a strand off the ceiling and wrap it around his waist, using it as a belt on his oversized robe. Several steps later he tore two more free, but these he held onto, one in each hand.
"Weapons, potentially," he told Dylan when his friend aimed a questioning look in his direction. "You two can't have all the fun in here."
After three or four minutes the hallway opened up into a large room with several passages leading off in different directions. Nystor paused in the middle of the room and rotated slowly.
"So... where to now?" Dylan asked.
"I think... this is far enough," Nystor replied.
"What?" Olivia asked, her confusion written plainly on her face. "The hell is that..."
Her words trailed off to silence as three Islanders stepped out of the doorway to her right, their fish scale armor gleaming and their tridents held at the ready. Two more Islanders appeared at the next doorway, then another three next to that, then another three from each of the doorways to her left. Finally a lone Islander stepped out of the middle passageway. He was at least a foot taller than the rest but carried no weapons.
"Oh hell..." Dylan said as he drew his sword. Olivia followed suit with a hissed curse. Josh gripped his seaweed ropes and tried to imagine razor sharp edges on their tips but nothing appeared to change.
For a few moments the room was silent aside from the breathing of its occupants. Then Nystor spoke.
"Islanders! I have kept my end of the Bargain."
"Bargain? What bargain?" Dylan asked.
"Show me," the leader of the Islanders demanded with a sneer.
"Islanders... as promised, I have brought you..." Nystor turned slowly, almost hesitantly to his traveling companions before raising an arm and pointing a trembling finger directly at Dylan. "I have brought you Prince Reimar."
I'm really pleased someone other than me has had to post twice on this story! Great work, and I am intrigued that you've decided to have Nystor betray people... I think. I now don't know whether Dylan really is Prince Reimar and doesn't know it, or if Nystor's pulling a cunning bluff! Great writing, and I really like how the situation has gotten really desperate so subtly :)
Mine:
Dylan swallowed hard, completely at a loss. Should he deny it, or should he play along and agree with it? What on earth -- no, what the hell was Nystor up to? The tall Islander, who must be a King or warchief or something, was looking at him like his mother examined meat in the shops. His mouth felt dry now and his hands felt sweaty; the sword was feeling like it was slipping from his grip. He looked at Olivia who looked as puzzled as he did.
"The stones of this tower inhibit magic," said the Islander. He seemed to relax a little. "So I know this is no illusion. You have only five hours left before our bargain would have been broken, and you are... a very cautious wizard. So I find it hard to believe you would be close to the time limit unless you had no choice. Which means I ought to believe you."
"Believe me or not," said Nystor stiffly. "The facts don't change because of what you believe."
The Islander laughed, a deep, throaty sound. "Really?" he said. Nystor looked outraged. "You're entire magic system is based on believing things will happen so that they do, but I am expected to accept that facts and belief don't affect each other?"
Nystor turned purple and was struggling to find words.
"I accept that this is Prince Reimar," said the Islander. "Thank-you for deliverying him to us." He gestured and the other islanders, in their little groups, turned away and filed down their tunnels again, except for one group of three who came over to the children.
"Wait," said Nystor. Dylan noticed that his hands were trembling. "Wait! We had a bargain-"
The tall Islander, who hadn't moved, nodded. "You have earned your reward," he said. He bowed deeply from the waist, his back perfectly straight and his eyes lowered to the floor, which allowed an unseen islander behind him to throw a trident into Nystor's chest. There was a thump as it struck, and a gasp like air hissing out of a balloon. Nystor was knocked over backwards by the force of the blow, and the tall Islander straightened up.
"The reward for treachery is always the same," he said. Dylan could see that Nystor couldn't hear him: the old man's eyes were already glazed over and blood was welling up between the points of the trident. "Sometimes it is late, other times early. For you old man, I think we timed it perfectly."
"What the f–" said Olivia, but the Islander behind her clamped a calloused hand over her mouth and ignored her trying to bite him.
"Come along," said the tall Islander. "And leave the wizard here. If he's any clever plans to have his magic revive him when we're gone I'd like to see him manage that in this room!"
They were led down a side-tunnel, while the tall Islander disappeared back up the one he'd come from. Their captors refused to talk, and when they tried to talk they were quickly silenced: a hand over the mouth, a finger jabbed in the small of the back. The tunnels were narrow and wet and smelled salty; now and then there was an ammoniac stench of dead fish. Shells crunched underfoot at first, and then their footsteps clicked quietly on dressed stone. The tunnel wound around, gradually climbing up, and eventually they were pushed roughly through a door into a wide square room.
There were high windows, too high to reach and too small for even Josh to climb through, set in white walls that appeared to be paint on stone. There was a wide, long wooden table made of sea-warped planks in the middle, and a collection of mismatched chairs around it. Against one wall were two single beds, a rough mattress on each, and against the other wall was a bucket with a wooden lid. Sitting at the table, watching them with inquisitive eyes, was a middle-aged man with a Vandyke beard.
"Who are you?" said Olivia, glad at last to be able to talk without being silenced.
"Brekstan," said the man. He stood up and offered her his hand, which she shook.
"King Brekstan?" asked Josh, looked slightly awed.
"Hardly," said the man with a pleasant smile. "I'd need a country for that, and it was taken away from me a couple of weeks ago. I have to say, not having to try and run things for a while has been a very pleasant break."
"We're here to rescue you," said Dylan. It didn't sound right, but he knew it had to be said. "Nystor brought us."
"Nystor's an old fool," said Brekstan. "He's been trying to overthrow me for nearly three decades. He's wasted his entire life on one reckless scheme after another. Where is he then, he's not one to miss out on gloating when it's available."
"Dead," said Josh, his voice breaking a little. "The fishmen killed him with a big fork thing."
"Oh? Brekstan looked a little sad. "Well, it's about time really. He's tried it with the goat-folk, the ice-giants, the Floriabata and he even tried creating a beetle species with intelligence. I think if he had to go it again he'd go insane. Insane-r, anyway."
"He said I was Prince Reimar," said Dylan, hestitantly. "He said that the Islanders had both King Brekstan and Prince Reimar together they could end the world and start everything all over again."
"Where do you come from?" Brekstan suddenly seemed interested, though he was still calm.
"Vancouver," said Dylan. "That's like... well, I think it's a different world. No, it is a different world, we don't have magic there, but it's like better. Well, maybe better. In some ways."
Olivia jabbed him in the side with her fingers. "Shut up," she said.
"Ah," said Brekstan. "Nystor finally figured out how to open the gate between worlds. Well then, Reimar is here, most definitely."
Dylan sat down on the floor and went very pale.
"I'm a prince?" he said weakly.
"No," said Brekstan with a friendly smile. He pointed at Josh. "He is. The spell that sent Reimar away ensured he would return as a companion to anyone who came in from another world. Expensive, difficult to cast, and a complete pain – it took us seven goes to get it right – but it offers a little protection." He looked at Josh, who looked liked he was going to cry. "There's no magic involved in hiding your memories though," he said. "Just hypnotism. The release word is your mother's name: Bentheriel."
Greg - heh, I'm sure some of my main page posts would have spanned *at least* two comments.
Glad you liked mine. I am equally impressed with yours. Still lots of work to do in December but I think we can wrap things up without each of us having to triple post!
I like the reveal of Josh as the prince, and that ending with the release of his memories opens some intriguing possibilities for next month.
No idea what's going to happen, but I've got a couple weeks to figure it out :)
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