NaNoWriMo

NaNoSWriMo ends tomorrow. I finished 1 day early (YAY!)
True to my word I posted the full 50k. To those who read it, enjoy the story, but please remember this is raw unedited stuff. It is by no means a finished and the tale has further to go. But for the purposes of Nano I have achieved(YAY!)
I intend to continue with this draft and see it to the end. Including rewrites. Wish me luck. May you see spit and polished on the shelf of your favorite bookstore one day!

Threads Entangled, Knots Unraveled

Threads

Brett

“This is so freaking BORING!” Brett announce to no one but the walls of his dorm room. He hated English. It was so unnecessary to his hopes and dreams. Now he was having to write a short story about his hopes and dreams. The professor must be on crack, he thought. Why in the hell would a guy on a basketball scholarship need to write anything beyond a glowing sports report on himself?
Brett sighed and looked at the computer in front of him. All he wanted to do was surf the net and find the latest scores on the Lakers. They were in a battle for dominance over the hated Celtics. He knew if he went downstairs, all of his buddies would be down there watching the game. But he couldn't. If he didn't bring up his grade in English he was in danger of losing his scholarship and his dreams.
He leaned back in his chair and looked to the bare ceiling for inspiration. Nothing. The ceiling wasn't giving up its secrets either.
He had a pen in his hand. He clicked the button on it furiously. Frustration won. He launched the pen at the ceiling, as he did so the momentum tipped his chair back and he fell backwards. He landed hard on the floor head first. Before he blacked out he saw that the pen had stuck in the ceiling.

Margo

“It's Margo!” she insisted hotly.
The security guard looked at her ID and back at her over the rim of his glasses. “The picture on this ID is definitely you, but the name says Katherine Margaret Connor. I see no Margo here.”
She sighed. Why did she bother. In fact, the girl next to her looked at her and rolled her eyes. “Fine!” she said and snatched her badge back. “Can I go now?”
She could see the twinkle in the guards eyes as he waived her on and took the next persons ID. Margo glanced at her badge. Right at the bottom it said “preferred name “Margo Connor”. She glanced back at the guard. He was checking Ids and didn't see her look back. She huffed and headed to the elevator. Justine, the girl next to her said, “Really Margo, he does that to everyone just to get a reaction. You shouldn't let it bother you.”
Margo nodded at Justine. “I know, but I just HATE my name. Why in the hell did my parents have to stick me with such an obvious Irish catholic name! I mean it just screams good little nun! Thats why as soon as I could I changed it and if the right guy came along maybe I could lose the Connor as well!”
“Guy!” Justine laughed, “You sure as hell picked the wrong profession if you're looking for a guy!”
“Shut up Justine. I have a life outside of here.” she said lamely. Again Justine laughed. This time Margo relaxed and laughed with her. The elevator opened and the world went black for Margo.

Calvin and TC Brown

Calvin opened the door. There was no one there. He swore he heard someone knocking. He looked around the porch, saw no one and closed the door. He went back to the couch where his dog TC Brown lolled on her back. He heard his mom from the kitchen shout, “Calvin, who's at the door?”
“No one, Mom!” he hollered back, picking up his game controller he started playing again.
“Well what was that knocking noise then?” She came out of the kitchen wiping her hands on a kitchen towel. “Did you get your room clean?”
Calvin scowled. She always asked that when he was in the most difficult part of the game. “mmph,” he mumbled.
“Was that a yes or a no Calvin?” His mother asked sternly.
Calvin sighed, hit the pause button on his game controller and turned around to look at his mom. “No, Mom. Can I finish it after this level?” he pleaded.
She looked hard at him and then said, “Ok, but if its not done by the time your dad gets home, then there will be no laser tag this weekend!”
Calvin grinned his best smile at her, “No problem Mom, TC Brown and I will have it all done in no time!”
She snorted and went back to the kitchen.
As Calvin played his game he failed to notice the weather outside changing from a blustery fall day to a windy, dark rainstorm. A half an hour after the mystery knock on the door, a full blown thunderstorm had moved in. TC Brown however, noticed the difference and moved closer to Calvin. She laid her head on his lap and looked up at him with big soulful eyes. Calvin at times wondered who was protecting who when she sidled up close to him.
He patted her on the head and continued to play his game. Thunder and lightening crashed loudly outside making the house shake. Calvin looked around. Suddenly the lights flickered causing the TV to turn off and then back on. His game console went dead and then powered back on. Calvin grumbled. He had nearly finished the level. Now he was going to have to start over again.
TC Brown whimpered. He threw one arm around her neck and buried his face in her fur mumbling comforting sounds to her. He still held the game controller in the other hand.
Suddenly lightening flashed and thunder crashed all at the same time totally knocking out the lights in the house and zapping a power surge through the TV and game console. The last thing Calvin remembered before the world went black was the smell of singed fur and TC Browns yelp.

George Brew

George felt the sun beat down on his head. He could picture his floppy green fishing hat sitting on top of his dresser upstairs. He could go up and get it, but it was already and effort to continue mowing the lawn. He chided himself for how cheap he was. Years ago his wife offered to buy him a riding lawn mower, but he told her it was a waste of money and only a lazy man would stoop to a riding mower. She had died two years ago, and he wasn't getting any younger. She had always said he didn't listen to sense. He wished she were still here. If she were here, she would have gotten the hat for him and also brought him an ice cold glass of lemonade. Those days were over. Instead of missing her less as time went by he missed her more.
He sighed and looked at the lawn. He hadn't even made it to the half way point yet. George was 68. In this day and age it really wasn't that old. Old was 80's and there were 80 year olds still running about driving cars and traveling. Typically George felt better. Today he felt tired and run down. He didn't know why. He hadn't done anything out of the ordinary lately and mowing the lawn today was probably the most strenuous thing he'd done all week.
George ran his hand through his thinning hair. He was sweating profusely. He was feeling light headed and nauseas. He looked at the remainder of the lawn. It really needed to be done, but he just couldn't make himself do more right now. He turned off the mower and left it where it sat. He trudged back to the house and into the kitchen. He poured himself a tall glass of cold water from pitcher in the refrigerator.
He went out to the living room where it was cool and dark and flopped down into his lazy boy. He took a sip of the water, leaned back and closed his eyes.
It was odd he thought, I'm relaxing but my heart is pounding and I really feel sick. He was beginning to worry. Ethel always told him he should pay attention to his body and what it was telling him. He could hear her words in his head as if she was standing there. He wondered if he was truly having a heart attack. He opened one eye and saw the phone with in arms reach. He reached over, picked it up and dialed 911. The operator came on and he said, “Ma'am I think I'm having a heart attack ... my name is George Brew and I live at ...” George never finished, the phone dropped from his hand. Pain gripped him and then the world went dark.

Sierra

Sierra ran. And ran and ran. To her running equaled pure bliss. As a kid she drove her family crazy because she ran everywhere. Then she turned her passion toward competition. To her disappoint her passion did not equal speed. She loved to run but she did not win often. Eventually she decided that her passion could remain enjoyable and personal and she didn't need medals or trophies to enjoy running.
Everyday at 4am Sierra lept out of bed and ran. She lived in New York City, Manhattan, near Central Park. No matter the weather Sierra was out running. She had graduated from a college in the city and worked within running distance of her flat. She was a city girl. She lived the life of a single young woman on the verge. She was still trying to figure out what verge she was on. She was in her mid thirties and waiting for something.
Her soul mate in life eluded her and again she had made peace with that. At least she thought she had, until this morning when she got up and felt more tired than usual. Even as she ran she couldn't get to the usual feel of flying she felt about five minutes in to the run. As she ran, her heart and feet began to sync and flow with the same beat. Finally that feeling was coming to her. She wondered why it took so long today. She glanced at her watch. She was 15 minutes into her run. She thought about the events of the night before and her steps faltered. Her breathing became uneven and finally with sobbing gasps she stopped running altogether and stood in the middle of the park she was running through and sobbed.
Last night she had finally said no to Mark. He was the man she had been dating for the past three years. This last year they had become closer and much more serious. Last night he had proposed to her. She thought she was ready for marriage. She was 36 after all, but last night night after a romantic evening he proposed. She just looked at him. He was smiling and hopeful. She just looked at him. She saw him age in front of her and she felt fear. She saw her own mortality and saw marriage as a death sentence. As she stared at him and said nothing he started to get uncomfortable and finally said in a very quiet voice, “Sierra? This is a yes or no question. I'll even accept a maybe at this point.” His face had switched from hopeful to doubtful.
All she could do was was shake her head no. Finally in a tiny voice she said, “No Mark, I can't do it.” She didn't move. She felt like time had stopped and she couldn't stop staring at him.
He looked deflated. He look like a man who had built his dreams on a balloon that popped. He stood up and said “well I guess thats it.” then he was gone.
Sierra had felt relieved when he left. At least she thought she had. She stood up from the table and went to pay the bill finding that Mark already had. She smiled at the hostess and walked out of the restaurant. She felt free. She didn't feel alone. She would have run home, but she was in a dress and heels. Besides her car was in the lot, so she drove home. She didn't even think about what had happened. At that moment it had been as insignificant as taking out the trash.
Now however it had hit her. She wondered what she had done. She wanted to call Mark, apologize and beg to replay the night. She walked around the park aimlessly trying to figure out what made her behave that way. Then she started running again. Her heart straining to keep up with the turmoil in her head and the pounding of her feet on the pavement. She ran and ran. She ran past the point of exhaustion. She no longer knew where she was. She was past pain and past joy. She just ran. Eventually her body reached its limit and she collapsed. The last thing she saw was a patch of grassy ground rising up to meet her.

George

George opened his eyes when the soft breeze lifted a tuft of his beard. He was still sitting. He felt groggy and wondered where he was. He tried to remember what he was doing before he fell asleep. He squinted as the sun blazed into his eyes from the rise it was cresting. Where in the world was he? He looked around. He was definitely outside. In fact he was reclining on a large boulder and seated on the hard ground his legs stretched before him. His mind screamed “How in the world did you get here?!” His memory slammed back to him and he felt breathless. He had been sitting in his living room on the La Z Boy and talking to 911. He was certain he was having a heart attack. Did he die? Was he in purgatory as all good catholics believe? Or did he make it to heaven? Well this couldn't be heaven. He had the same old body and the pounding in his head had to be a headache. As he figured it, when you die all that business with the body would be alleviated. Besides he figured Ethel would be there to greet him when he died. So back to the original thought. How did he get here? Certainly 911 didn't send a team of EMT's to toss him out in the middle of nowhere ... did they?
He struggled to stand up. He was stiff and sore and his head throbbed. He couldn't remember if he ever got to drink his cold glass of water or not. He stretched. His breathing was ok and aside from the pounding in his head he actually felt pretty good. He looked around. He was standing in what appeared to be a field of grasses and wildflowers. It was a bit chilly but the air smelled fresh and clean. He knew he wasn't in Chicago any more. In fact, as he looked around he could see white capped mountains rising behind him in what he guessed was the west as the sun continued to rise in front of him. In fact, it appeared that he was actually standing on a mountain. In front of him was a gentle rise that was flanked by a two large rocks. Significantly larger than boulders. Pine trees encircled much of the field making it a meadow? He walked up the rise and found himself on a plateau of sorts and looking down into a vast pine forest. The slope down the rise was steep and rocky. In the distance, George judged it to be about 2 miles, he could see a plumes of smoke rising from what seemed to be a clearing in the trees. A town perhaps?
George was actually a pretty good outdoors man. He and Ethel used to take their kids camping when they were small. George was an avid fisherman and loved to camp. His two boys and daughter used to have a blast camping. The boys Mike and Charlie would fish with him and his daughter Lacy would beg to go but she was always too small so she would have to stay with Ethel and help mind the camp. Lacy was their surprise child. She was born when Charlie the youngest had been 8. When Charlie graduated from high school and left for college the camping trips had stopped.
George hadn't seen any of the kids for quite awhile. They had all moved away. Mike was a year away from retiring from the Air Force and finishing his last tour in Iraq. Charlie lived in California. He had followed in Georges footsteps and was teaching to a bunch of 16 year olds and coaching football. Lacy had become a doctor and peace corp volunteer. She was currently in Afghanistan administering care to refugees.
George missed them all. Lacy had called him just last week from London as she waited for her flight to Moscow. Charlie called once a week and Mike whenever he could. They were busy. They visited if they could. Charlie's and his family visited last summer. Mike and Lacy weren't married. Mike was divorced and hardly saw his kids. George only saw them twice.
He wondered what they were doing as he contemplated his way down the hill and made for the smoke plumes.

Brett

Brett opened his eyes and saw the sun sparkling through the pine trees. He was lying on his back with his legs draped over a log. A million prickling sensations covered his back. He was confused. How did he get here. The last thing he remembered was his pen stuck in the ceiling as he flailed backwards in his chair. In fact, his head throbbed where he had hit the hardwood floor of his dorm room. He wondered if his buddies had found him and as a joke had carted him out behind the gym where the forest started and left him there. He wouldn't put it past them, he had been in on numerous pranks of the sort. The only problem was the pine trees. There weren't any pine trees where he was going to school. Ok well maybe a few but most of the trees were like oaks and elms. He was at an ivy league school after all. He sat up and looked around. This was a dense forest. And the smell. The air smelled so fresh and clear. He looked around. The prickling sensation was the bed of pine needles poking through his T-shirt and he noted with dismay the only shoes he had on were his flip flops. He grumbled, “at least they could have dumped me in the middle of nowhere with my tennis shoes on!”
The sun looked like it was directly overhead so he had no idea of which direction to go. Not that it mattered much since he had no idea where he was and no idea what lay in any direction!
He removed his T-shirt and shook out the pine needles before putting it back on. He looked around to see if he could find a path or anything that might indicate a reasonable direction. Remembering back to his cub scout days ( he didn't go much farther, after his folks split his dad moved to another state and his mom had to work all the time so things like cub scouts became a luxury ill afforded) he did remember that moss always grew on the north side of the trees so he looked for that. Unfortunately he didn't see any. He decided they best way to go then would be the path of least resistance so he looked for what look like a natural path through the forest and started following it.
Brett briefly wondered if his friends were nearby watching him and getting a good laugh, but something told him that his friends had nothing to do with this and that he was a lot farther from his dorm room than he really knew.
Even as he followed a pretty clear path it was slow going. Flip flops were not made for walking on pine needles. They continued to poke his feet and get lodged between his toes. As he bent over for the hundredth time he stumbled and lurched forward landing just inches from a stick poking out of the ground. He grumbled and grabbed at the stick as if it had caused him to stumble and fall. That was his first mistake. The second was not moving when he when he heard a whizzing sound. The next thing he knew he was trussed up and dangling about four feet off the ground. Both flip flops had fallen off and now he was completely barefoot and helpless.
Brett cursed long and loudly in frustration until it occurred to him that whoever set the trap would be back and might be hostile. He tried to look around and see what he could see.
He listened for a few minutes but all he could hear was his own breathing and the pounding of his heart. He couldn't move as his arms were pinned to sides. He was grateful that he was not dangling upside down. He considered calling for help, but again he had no idea where he was, or who had set the trap so he decided to see if there was a way he could at least get one arm free.

Sierra

Sierra woke up. The sun sparkled through the curtains tickling her eyes. She groaned. The pillow felt rough and she was chilly. Without opening her eyes she reached for the blanket. She couldn't find it. In fact the whole bed felt hard and rough. She opened her eyes. Grass stretched in front of her right up to the forest through which the sun blinked and twinkled as it rose in the sky.
Memory flooded back. Sierra sat up and glanced around. She must have passed out in the park. She couldn't have been out for long if the sun was just rising. She looked around again, slowly this time. Something was missing. The jogging path. Where was it? In fact, where were the park benches, the fountain? She had pretty much run the entire length width and breadth of central park. She knew the park like the back of her hand, but she didn't know this. She stood up and brushed herself off. Her ipod shuffle fell to the ground, the ear buds dangling from their clip on her waist. She bent over and picked it up. Something else was missing. It was too quiet, especially for a Tuesday morning. Usually she started running before most people were up and about, but when the sun rose the park and the city were in full hustle and bustle. The noise of the city was missing. How could that be? She went over to the nearest tree and decided to climb it. The nearest branch to her was a foot over her head. She jumped but couldn't get a good hold on it. She looked around. She was in a small grassy clearing, that's when it struck her. She was surrounded by pine trees. Central park had pines but not this many. In fact there was very little other trees than pines here.
Where was she! Her mind screamed. How did she get here? She looked around for a path. She saw several possibilities winding through the forest. Which way? She had no idea even where she was. The tv show about the guy who was dropped in the middle of nowhere and had to find his way out came to mind. She shivered. The thought of eating bugs to stay alive gave her a queasy feeling. She vowed she would die first!
Well, she thought to herself, if I am going to get home and get to work on time I best get going. She took the nearest likely path and went east. At least she reasoned she could find the ocean if she went east. As she walked she also noticed how fresh and clean the air smelled. This worried her. She knew New York city had never smelled this fresh.


Margo

Margo picked herself up. She looked around. “What in the hell happened?” She thought. “One minute I'm laughing with Justine and waiting on the elevator to open and the next minute the world goes black and I find myself face down on a rock in the middle of freaking nowhere!”
She looked around. She was standing on top of a rocky outcrop looking out over an immense pine forest nestled between some mountains. “That's it! I've lost it!” she reasoned. She felt strange, she felt out of body. She just could not believe what she was seeing. She closed her eyes. Slowed her breathing just like her therapist taught her to do when she was overstressed and counted to ten. She knew when she opened her eyes everything would be normal again. Slowly she opened her eyes and before her shimmered an image of the lobby and the elevator. People were gathered over someone lying on the floor and Justine appeared to be screaming hysterically. Then the image flickered and vanished and once again she was standing on the rocky outcrop overlooking the biggest damn pine forest she had ever seen.
She whispered to herself “we're not in Kansas anymore Toto.” She was dumbfounded. “How, how, how...” kept repeating through her head like a mantra. Finally her knees gave way and she sank to the ground, buried her face in her hands and sobbed.
After a few minutes and her sobs subsided she began to wonder if this was the afterlife. She was a catholic in denial, but the catechism of her childhood was her only reference now. As an adult she touted that she was agnostic, spiritual but refused to succumb to the religion of her childhood. She wondered if God was punishing her for her folly.
Finally her resolve overcame her doubts and fears. If this was the afterlife, then what choice did she have but to keep moving. She looked for a way off her perch and cursed the heels she was wearing. What a stupid pair of shoes for rock climbing and hiking! If she wasn't already dead she would be if she attempted to climb off this rock in these shoes.
She took off the shoes and tossed them in her bag. Her bag? Now wait a minute. She had her handbag and her briefcase. What the hell. She looked in her bag and sure enough there were the sneakers she had placed in there this morning so she and Justine could do their lunch time block walk. She replaced her impractical heels with her more sensible sneakers.
“Ok” she thought we're getting somewhere. She stuffed her briefcase in her handbag and slung it over her shoulder. Then she looked for the simplest way down. Behind her the rock dropped down into a grassy field. That stretched out to the wall of the mountain. The rest of the grassy field was encircled by trees. On either side of her rock appeared to be trails leading down into the forest. She looked at the sun. it was nearly overhead but she thought she could tell which way was east and decided to go in that direction especially since west led straight up a rock wall and a mountain while east led into the forest and what she thought were plumes of smoke trailing up into the air. Possibly she would find people and answers there.
She slipped and slid down the side of the hill. She cursed the power suit she was wearing. The heels were definitely not practical but neither was the panty hose nor the skirt. By the time she reached the bottom the hosiery was shredded. Her expensive skirt had a few tears and the pink silk blouse was drenched with sweat and quite see through. She button the blazer that she wore over it to hide the bra she was wearing as the blouse no longer concealed it.
She looked up to where she had been and aside from some scrapes and bruises and the obvious damage to her suit, she actually felt elated that she had gotten down with herself intact. She had never been particularly athletic. In fact, most of her life had been as the plump awkward girl with braces. Though she no longer had the braces she could still see that girl when she looked in the mirror. She could not ever seem to shed the few extra pounds she carried either. Of course Sunday dinner at her parents house didn't help either and then what was not eaten was sent home with her. She and Justine (who was trim and athletic looking) always went out for their lunchtime power walk. Unfortunately the walk passed by Starbucks and their delicious frappuccinos that Margo couldn't resist. So whatever she walked off she replaced from starbucks.
The whole experience should have sent her screaming crazy, but Margo sensed something deeper here. For the first time in her life she felt that something important was happening and she had an important role in it.
With that in mind she checked the position of the rock she had just climbed off of and headed in the direction she remembered seeing the smoke plumes rise.

Calvin and TC Brown

Calvin pushed the dogs face away. “TC! Knock it off! I want to sleep longer!” He rolled over and fell. He landed on a soft bed of pine needles. Calvin sat up completely startled. He looked up at TC who was looking down at him from a stump. She was panting and looking at him expectantly wagging her tail. She woofed at him.
“I have no idea” said Calvin. How did we get here? He looked at TC suspiciously as if she had dragged him out into the woods behind their house. “Wait a minute!” he exclaimed. “We were on the couch playing Gauntlet on the N64! How did we get here?” He looked around and then at himself. “It was a nasty thunderstorm too! What the heck?” TC replied with another friendly woof.
“Ok girl, you're the dog with the sniffer! Get us home, I'll follow you.” TC cocked her head at him as he spoke. Her big brown eyebrows wiggling at him. She was a mix of golden lab, German shepherd and something else no one could identify. It made an interesting looking dog. Her name came from the fact that she was three colors of brown. Calvin was convinced she got the friendly smart genes of all the breeds she was mixed with. She was also one of the best friends a boy could have.
TC lept off the stump and nuzzled Calvin looking for some petting. As he pet her head and scratched behind her ears he saw where her fur had been singed. He thought he remembered smelling burned fur. He felt the top of his head and found that his hair too felt singed. He wondered if his mom was freaking out.
“OK TC we need to get going. Mom is going to be worried.” He started walking and saw that TC was just sitting. “Come on pooch lets go!” he said. She woofed and started walking in the opposite direction. Calvin sighed, “I did say you could lead.” He turned around and followed her.
TC was excited. She loved running through the woods, sniffing everything. However, right now she seemed to be on track and was following a specific scent. Calvin was having to jog to keep up with her. Finally, huffing and puffing after about 30 minutes he finally shouted “TC, slow down! I can't keep up!” He stopped and watched her disappear up the trail. “Stupid dog!” he grumbled. A moment later he heard TC barking like crazy. She'd found something.
Still panting Calvin ran in the direction of her insistent barking.


Brett

Brett had been struggling in his trap for what seemed like hours. So far he had managed to free nothing. He was still wrapped up tight and secure. He was starting to tire from the fruitless struggle. He rested briefly and listened to the forest. He could hear birds cawing and calling. He could hear small animals rustling around. At least he was hanging above ground and did not have to worry about bugs crawling on him, although the mosquitoes had been ruthless. One nearly made him cross eyed as he watched it fill up and explode with blood off the end of his nose. Now the giant bump itched maddeningly and he was doing his best to ignore it, but it was just one more irritating thing he could do nothing about.
For the hundredth time that day he decided that his predicament was the direct result of his English class and the damn professor who insisted on failing him if he didn't write the paper he had been assigned to bring up his grade.
Anger, resentment, irritable futility all well up inside him and he made a mighty struggle, cursing and spitting, to get out of his bonds. He was so wrapped up in his struggle that he did not immediately hear the dog barking below him. It finally penetrated his waning rage struggle and he ceased his futile efforts. He looked down and sure enough there was a dog barking up at him. He looked around to see if the dog had an owner, but he didn't see anyone. He examined the dog. “What a weird looking mutt!” he thought. It almost looked like a patchwork of breeds, not to mention the funky coat and odd coloring. Its ears looked like they wanted to stand up but the tips flopped as the dog hopped around barking up at him.
He thought he heard someone hollering in between the barks. The dog dashed off and then ran back several times. Finally a kid ran into the clearing and hollered at the dog. “TC you're gonna kill me with all this running!” the kid said to the dog. The kid was bent double panting as if he had run a mile.
“Hey!” Brett shouted.
The kid looked around looking for where his voice had come from.
“Hey kid! I'm up here!” Brett shouted again.
The kid looked up startled. He walked directly under Brett and stared at him. “What are you doing there?” he asked.
Brett grumbled, “what does it look like kid? I'm impersonating spider man? I fell into a trap. Can you get me down?”
The kid looked at Brett and how he was hanging. “I dunno, its hard to see how you got up there.”
Brett sighed. Why couldn't an adult have found him? “well look around. I accidentally pulled a stick that was poking up from t he ground.” He looked around, “it was off to the right over there” he tried to indicate with his head.
The boy looked around the direction he had indicated. The dog was sniffing around as well. The boy looked up at Brett, “I don't see any sticks but I see where something was pulled out of the ground. Hang on.”
Brett rolled his eyes, “hanging...” he said sarcastically.
The dog started barking and digging at the base of a tree in the direction of the way Bretts feet were pointing. The boy went over to where the dog was and should up excitedly, “Hey, TC found something, looks like a stake that the rope holding you up is tied too!” The boy started helping the dog.
Suddenly Brett felt the rope jerk and he dropped about five inches. “The stake is stuck pretty tight,” the boy reported, “but TC is a great digger she'll have it dug up in no time!”
All of a sudden Brett was plummeting to the ground. He belly flopped to the forest floor, knocking the wind out of him. The kid and the dog were there as he struggled to get his breath back. The boy was frantically loosening the ropes and the dog was licking his face. His breath came back when at the same time his arms were free. He lay there gasping and coughing. His arms felt like they were on fire as the blood rushed back into them. The dog continued to lick his face as he rolled trying to get away.
The boy was shouting excitedly about something. It was all Brett could do to finally push the dog away and take a breath. When Brett could he sat up and saw that a man and a woman had also entered the clearing.


Margo

Margo looked at her watch again. She continued to check it, but she wasn't sure why, it seemed it had stopped. The watch had stopped at 7:15. She was supposed to be at her desk by 7:30. Typically she was in the elevator by 7:15 and in the office by 7:20. Her boss would have been already in her office for an hour before the rest of them arrived. Her job consisted of organizing women in regards to business. They set up seminars for helping women attain high paying jobs, teaching them how to be successful, teaching them confidence in their careers etc. It was definitely a no mans land. Although they did have a few men in the office, they usually didn't stay long.
What was funny was that although Margo spent her career helping other women be successful, she felt very unsuccessful herself. She hated her job. She was the executive secretary to a very ruthless and unforgiving woman. Justine, who worked with her was the head of the payroll department. She was pretty much left alone as long as payroll was done promptly. Not Margo. Her boss, Ms. Marlene Stucky, dressed her down at least once a day, made comments about her wait and tossed lovely little comments at her like “you'll never get anywhere dressing like that!” She would ask Margo to compose a letter and then tear it up and ask for at least 14 rewrites. Then she would call every so often asking if she was done yet and if she had completed several other tasks yet.
Margo constantly felt like a failure in her job. She often wondered why she still had the job.
These thoughts ran through her head as she worked her way through the forest in the direction she thought she had seen the smoke plumes. Now here she was checking her watch again! She was tired. She felt as if she had been walking for hours. She removed her watch and threw it in her bag. Her bag was starting to get heavy as well. She saw a stump and sat down and rested. Her feet felt pretty good. She was so grateful she had put her sneakers in the bag that morning. She remembered looking at them and had almost not put them in there. She had been thinking “what's the point of the walk. I can't resist the frappuccinos!” but she slipped them in her bag anyways, knowing Justine would never let her hear the end of it.
As she sat rubbing her shoulder where the bag dug into it, she thought she heard barking in the distance. It was very faint. She strained to listen. She heard it again and then it was gone. She grabbed her bag and continued walking. She went in the direction she thought she heard barking.


Sierra

Sierra had been alternating jogging and walking. Now she was just plain tired. She needed food and water. She continued to walk but she wasn't even sure if she was really getting anywhere. This seemed to be an immense forest. She could not imagine a forest that you could not find your way out of in less than an hour in New York city, let alone not see a single soul or even a car or building. Either she was walking in circles or she was no longer in New York. The no longer in New York frightened her. She was a city girl. Roughing it in the wild was something she had avoided. In fact, roughing it to her meant visiting her aunts and uncles down on the farm in Georgia. The nearest shopping mall was fifty miles away and the nearest high rise was in Atlanta at least two hours away. She only saw the family once a year for Christmas in which case the milder weather of Georgia was nice compared to the traffic stopping snow of New York. She bit back tears. She missed her family. Right now she felt so very far away not only from her beloved city but from the people she loved most.
She thought of Mark and his proposal. She wondered if she would even be in this predicament if she had accepted his proposal.
She considered why she declined his offer. She knew deep down that even though he offered stability, financial reliability and a wholesome relationship, he just wasn't what she was looking for. In her heart she wanted adventure. Getting pregnant, raising a family just sounded so, dead end to her. She wanted something else. She laughed out loud and looked around. “Well Girlfriend, you got something else and that is for sure!” she said out loud.
“Do you always talk to yourself?” came the voice right behind her.
Sierra squealed in fright and jumped. She spun around and looked up at a tall old white guy. He could have been Santa Claus, but he was wearing a gray sweat stained T-shirt that said Chicago Cubs and a green ball cap that said Boston Celtics on it. He had twinkly brown eyes that smiled as he spoke and a neatly trimmed white beard. His ruddy complexion looked like he spent a great deal of his life outdoors. He was wearing jeans and a pair of black old school pair of converse tennis shoes.
She just stared at him. She was so grateful to see another person, but being a New Yorker, she was automatically suspicious of strangers.
She backed away from him and said, “where did you come from?”
Huffing and puffing a little bit he leaned against the nearest tree and took his cap off to run a hand through his sparse thatch of hair. “I'm sorry I startled you. I tried to let you know I was coming. I figured you would of heard me stumbling through here, I'm rather like a bull in a china shop.” he smiled sheepishly, “at least thats what my wife always said,” his face tinged a bit with sadness when he mentioned his wife. “Anyhow, I'm from Chicago. Not sure how I got here or even where here is. But my name is George, George Brew.” He held out his hand.
Sierra look suspiciously at him and then realized he was just being polite and shook his hand. “Well Mr. Brew I am Sierra Washington and I am from New York city and also with no clue how I arrived here, where ever here is.” she said looking around as if a sign would appear and announce where they were.
George chuckled ruefully, “Well the last thing I remember before waking up here was talking to 911 and telling them I was having a heart attack. The next thing I know I am watching the sun rise in probably the most beautiful place I have ever seen and thinking I died and went to heaven. But I kind of don't think this is heaven. In my idea of heaven I don't think I will have to deal with this body!” he smiled.
Sierra couldn't help smiling back. He was a jovial sort and seemed very likable. 'but' she reminded herself, 'he is white and you are still the same black woman you were yesterday and white men are still suspicious.' She looked at George and said, “I have no clue how I got here either. I was out for my morning run in central park. I was having a bad day and I think I must have pushed myself to hard because I remember falling down and the next thing I remember is waking up here. I knew it wasn't central park because there are too many pine trees, no city noise and the air is way too fresh for New York!” she grinned at him. It seemed so odd to be having this conversation. “in fact, I have no clue where I am going. I just chose what I assume to be east in hopes of running into the ocean.” she said lamely.
“Well,” George said, “I can tell you the only ocean I saw was an ocean of trees. This forest is immense. I woke up on a plateau overlooking the forest. There are mountains flanking it that you can't see from here because the trees are so tall and thick. I was heading for a clearing that I could see smoke rising from. I am assuming it is either an encampment or a village. Anyways I was hoping to find people who could tell us where we are.”
At that moment they heard frantic barking off to their right. George and Sierra looked at each other and then took off in the direction of the barking.


Margo

Margo stumbled over dead brush. She had long ago lost the shredded panty hose and her skirt was a mess of rips and tear. Her hair had been immaculately done that morning. She was sure she looked frightful now. She didn't even want to think what her makeup must look like after all the sweating and swatting at bugs had done to her. She paused to listen again for the barking dog. All she heard was the thumping of her heart and her lungs gasping for air. It had been twenty minutes since she heard the dog. She even wondered if it were her imagination.
She could no longer see the the rock she had found herself on this morning and she thought she was still going in the direction of the smoke plumes but the trees were so dense she couldn't be sure. The only thing she was sure about was that the sun had steadily climbed higher and was now directly overhead. She was also getting hungry and was extremely thirsty. She felt a small nugget of despair creep into her thoughts.
She stilled her breathing and listened intently for the dog again. Nothing. She kept listening, but she heard nothing outside of the forest sounds that indicated people. She sat down on a dead tree to rest for a few minutes and think about what to do next. As she sat there she saw something lying in the pine needles. She reached down to pick it up and found that she was holding on to an electronic device. It looked like a controller for a video game that her nieces and nephews liked to play. She wondered what it would be doing out in the middle of the forest. She slipped it in her bag and looked around. Maybe whoever dropped it left an idea of which way they went. She poked around a bit and aside from some disturbed pine needles she had no idea. She could have disturbed the needles for all she knew.
As she searched a little further a shiny metallic object caught her eye. She picked it up thinking it was a coin and to her surprise it was a dog tag. She looked at it and it was for a dog named TC Brown. She pursed her lips in concentration. She knew she wasn't imagining the dog anymore, but the thing that struck her as odd was the dog tag was for Portland Oregon. She wondered, was she not in California anymore? Or was the dog visiting? She slipped the dog tag into her bag as well and kept walking.
Presently she came to somewhat of a clearing where the ground looked like it had been disturbed by many feet. In fact, there was a hole freshly dug in the ground next to a tree and a few feet away there were some ropes lying in a tangled pile. She looked around trying to figure out what happened.
Fortunately whoever had been there left a definite trail out of the clearing. She looked around a bit more and then followed the obvious trail to the east.


Brett, Calvin, TC Brown, Sierra and George

“It's starting to get dark,” said Calvin. He had fully expected to be home by now and have had dinner. He had given up on breakfast and lunch hours ago.
George, who had been walking with Calvin said, “I know son, I had hoped to find a village or something by now. I suppose you're probably hungry too. I know I am.”
Calvin nodded. He looked at TC who seemed relatively unaffected by any of it. She had been really excited when George and Sierra arrived in the clearing, but after getting to know them she just accepted them as companions and she went about her business of sniffing and exploring. Calvin had been happy to see some adults too, but he was worried since they seemed to be just as out of place as he was. None of them knew where they were. He was surprised to find out where they had come from. George was from Chicago, Sierra was from New York city and Brett was from Kansas, but he was attending college at Princeton in XXXX. He told them he was from Portland Oregon and that created a stir. Up until then they had assumed it was only people on the east coast affected by this phenomena.
Calvin didn't know, didn't understand and at the moment he didn't care. He was tired, hungry and no longer amused by the adventure. He missed his mom and dad and his bed. Sensing his flagging resolve, TC Brown stayed close to him. She walked right at his side and let him keep his hand on her back. It reassured him that something was normal.
George stopped and held up his hand. Brett, who was right behind them walking with his head down bumped into George. Sierra stopped and just waited. She was just as tired as the rest of them. She had been complaining up until twenty minutes ago when Brett told her to keep her complaints to herself. He had pointed out that the “kid” was far less trouble than she was. Sierra had been shocked that he spoke to her that way and immediately kept quiet. However, that didn't keep her from glaring daggers into his back.
Brett too was tired and cranky and had immediately regretted his sharp words to Sierra, but he was too proud to admit he was wrong so he just ignored her and followed George. After his rescue from the trap and the meeting up with George and Sierra and finding out that everyone was in the same boat, the group looked to George. He was the oldest and the most familiar with the outdoors. Brett had gone camping and fishing with his family, but they usually had a motor home and roughing it meant you went with out TV for a week.
Now George was listening carefully to something. “What's up?”Whispered Brett. George shook his head and then said. For a moment I thought someone was following us, but it could have just been an animal or foliage settling. But I also smell smoke, like wood smoke. Do any of you smell it?”
They all walked about sniffing. Calvin said he thought he smelled cheeseburgers and they all laughed, but no one else reported smelling anything.
Calvin looked around and noticed TC Brown was missing. “Hey!” He said, “TC Brown is gone!.” He cupped his hands around his mouth to call her when they heard her barking a ways down the trail from which they had just come. The sun had nearly set and the gloom was beginning to get quite dark. All of them peered down the trail, but couldn't see anything. TC's barking was coming closer and finally they saw her bound up to Calvin, barking happily and trying to get him to follow her. Calvin looked at George as if to say “What do you think?” A few steps behind TC, a disheveled woman in what appeared to be a torn and ripped business suit and a pair of sneakers emerged from the gloom and stood before them. She looked extremely happy to see them.
They all just stared at her.


Gathering

Margo stumbled into the group and was so relieved that other people were around. The dog had found her and led her to them. At first they had all stared at her and then the other woman in the group came forward to see if she was ok. There were two men and a you boy standing there and they came up to greet her as well.
After all the greetings, Margo found that their experience was similar to hers. George, the eldest in the group seemed to have assumed the role of leader. He seemed quite capable in the wilderness they found themselves in. Margo was no slouch either. Her father had always been a boy scout leader and her brothers were all boy scouts. She herself had been a girl scout and then later in college (she went to school in Colorado), she had worked as a counselor on several camping trips for youth services. Not that she was a hardy earthy type, but dirt didn't worry her. She had never really done a hike like she had accomplished today, but she felt that her past experiences led to to be able to accomplish her success of today.
She was feeling quite proud of herself and suddenly realized it. This is usually when she was told she had screwed something up and so when George asked her to recount how she arrived, she was sure he was going to chide her about something she had done wrong. She was extremely surprised when he patted her on the back and told her how brave she was. She felt tears come to her eyes. She just mumbled a grateful thank you.
George turned to the group and spoke to everyone. “It seems, based on the fact that none of us know where we are and we definitely know where we aren't then we can assume that are far from any place any of us knows. Its too dark at this point to continue on. I know we are all hungry and tired. It looks as if we will need to tighten our belts for the night and get some rest and see if we can't get our bearing and try to find a village or town or city or something tomorrow. Now, Margo reported seeing the same plumes of smoke rising from the forest that I did. It's hard to tell while in this forest if we are still going in the right direction. My suggestion is that in the morning one of us climbs a tree and tries to see over the canopy and help us get our bearings.” He looked pointedly at Calvin and Sierra. They were the smallest and most agile of the group. “The other consideration is that there may be others others out there in our same situation, so we should be on the lookout for them too. The other consideration is that there may be some out there who are hostile and could do us harm. For now though this forest seems quiet but we need some sort of shelter and we need to take turns keeping watch as we take turns sleeping.”
Margo held her hand up. “Umm I have something to say.” When no one said anything, she said, “I know we are all hungry. It's not like any of us prepared to go on a journey like this, but I seemed to have been fortunate enough to get here with my bag and briefcase. I do have some energy bars that we can all share, but as hungry as we are, possibly we should eat them for breakfast?”
Calvin, who was a growing boy after all, was the only one who disagreed, but it didn't seem like he had much of a vote at the moment. He was used to that. It was the same when he went anywhere with his parents. He sighed and looked around for TC Brown. “TC!” he called. It was so dark in the forest he couldn't see very far. He didn't hear the jingle of her collar so he called again, “TC! Come!” suddenly a wet nose appeared in his hand. He bent down to hug her around the neck. That's when he realized her collar was missing. He wondered when that fell off. “Well,” he thought, “it doesn't really matter as long as she is here.”
The others had huddled together underneath one of the few oak trees they had found in the forest. He and TC joined them. Calvin felt lucky that TC was with him. She curled up with him and kept him warm. His back was to the tree and she was between the others and himself. His last thoughts were of home, his mom's pot roast dinner and his comfy bed.
TC's growling woke him up. It took him a moment to remember where he was. Then he heard a man whispering, “Calvin, wake up.”
“What's happening?” Calvin asked sleepily.
“George saw a light not to far from here and he wants to investigate it. He wants you and TC to go with him because she will be able to sniff out any possible dangers.”
Calvin patted TC, “You up for that girl?” she licked his cheek in response. “Ok,” said Calvin, “we'll go. Hopefully TC's sniffer will find food.”
He heard Brett chuckle softly, “I hope she finds a pizza parlor!”
Brett took TC over to where George was keeping his eye on the light. It flicked off an on in a regular fashion. George put his hand on Calvin's shoulder. “Do you see the light?” when Calvin said yes he continued. “It's flickering but the pattern of the flicker is not random, so it is an electrical light. Calvin looked quizzically at George, but in the dark all he could see of George was a dark silhouette. Come let's see what's out there. TC went first with Calvin's hand on her back. He could feel that she wanted to run, but she somehow knew that he couldn't follow her in the dark. As they moved toward the flickering light the trees thinned and gave way. Soon they noticed that that they were on a cobbled pathway. Suddenly the beacon was right there. A small stone pillar stood in the middle of the pathway in which the beacon sat atop and flashed from. Approximately a hundred yards from the beacon was a sturdy stone wall approximately eight feet high, at least that's what George judged the height to be. Iron banded solid wood doors filled the gate. There were guard towers on either side of the gate. Everything seem dark and quiet. In fact it had an abandoned feel to it.
George whispered to Calvin, “let's go back and tell the others what we have found. Perhaps we can camp a bit closer and in the morning we can inspect the place.”
Calvin nodded. The high walls and formidable doors gave him the chills. In fact the guard towers made him think of grinning skulls. He definitely did not like the looks of the place in the dark.
They retreated back into the forest. It took them awhile to find their way back and eventually tripped over Brett snoring in the dark. Margo and Sierra had huddled together under the shelter but were not asleep. Apparently (and with good reason) neither one trusted Brett to stand watch.
Calvin went to wake up Brett and tell him what they found and what they were planning to do. George explained it to the two women. Soon they were on their way back toward the flickering light. As the reached the point where the forest thinned. They stopped and found shelter under the biggest pine they could find.
George took first watch. Calvin gratefully curled up with TC Brown and fell into an exhausted sleep.

Locals

First light found the little band of lostlings staring up at the iron banded wooden doors. The beacon behind them had flickered one last time and as the sun rose above the guard towers it retreated to its rest. On the base of the pillar that held the light was carved a message, written in an archaic form of English that surprisingly all of them except Calvin could read. George told Calvin it basically said “Be welcome new traveler, May your journey fulfill your hearts desire.” As far as Calvin was concerned, even in plain English it made no sense.
“Well,” said Brett, “we can either stand here and stare at these doors or we can walk up and knock.” and with that, he strode up to the door and banged on it with his fist.
Sierra giggled. “What an idiot,” she said as Brett pounding made little impact on the door. She walked up to him, and tapped him on the shoulder. He looked at her and she pointed to a rope hanging from one of the guard towers. Then she walked over and pulled the cord. They could hear the chime of a bell up in the tower.
At first, nothing happened and then a small door at the base of the tower, that none of them had noticed before, opened and out stumbled a man dressed in what appeared to be a hastily tucked in night gown and a pair of leather breeches and boots. His hair and beard were askew as if he had jumped hastily out of bed.
He squinted at the group. Grumpily he said, “You're late! You were supposed to be here yesterday! The others have been waiting. Come on, we need to get you in here and get started.” He turned and disappeared into the tower.
They all looked at each other. “Late!?” Margo exclaimed. “For what? We don't even know where we are!”
Brett said, “We'll never know if stand here.” He followed the man through the door. The rest followed him.
Just inside the door was a small room. A table with a lit candle stood to one side. Another door led farther in. Brett was disappearing through that door when Margo entered the tower. She had an uneasy feeling about what was happening. She tried to dismiss her feelings but she had trepidation about what this place was. The next room was much larger. The floor was stone. The walls had tapestries hung on them and wall sconces with torches flickering in them. A large wooden table sat in the middle of the room with chairs all around it. The man told them to sit. “The commander will be here shortly.” George tried to ask a few questions. But the man cut him off and said, “when the commander arrives he will ask you questions. He will explain why you are here. Wait for him.”
Calvin couldn't contain himself any longer, “But what about food?”
The man looked at him and at first Calvin regretted speaking, he was sure the man would yell at him, but then he smiled revealing his lack of teeth and said, “A growing young man I see. Very well I will have food sent.” and with that he was gone. Shortly after that two women arrived with large platters of bread, cheeses and fruit, and some sort of cold meat. A boy about Calvin's age followed with a large pitcher and wooden mugs. All these items were placed on the table without a word and the servers retreated from the room. Calvin and Brett didn't wait. They grabbed food and started eating. George looked like he wanted to do the same, but years of marriage to Ethel had taught him some manners. He indicated that Margo and Sierra get what they wanted first as he poured drinks for everyone from the pitcher. The liquid was clear, but it had a sweet heady aroma. He tasted it and immediately felt invigorated. He took some bread and cheese and ate quietly. He was hungrier than he thought he was. The food tasted wonderful and did much to restore his spirits.
George looked at the little group. In the last 24 hours he had become attached to them as if they were his responsibility. He chuckled to himself. It was amazing how people could find themselves in a completely odd situation, totally out of their norm and still function. He had always been a leader of sorts. He was a retired school teacher and coach. His son Charlie had followed in his footsteps and also taught and coached. Ethel had been a wonderful coaches wife. Many times they took in students who needed help for one reason or another. He felt the pain of her loss again. Life was just not the same with out her. She was truly his soulmate.
He snapped back to his present situation. All were looking at him expectantly as if he knew what was going to happen next. Calvin looked uncomfortable. “Calvin? Is there something wrong?”
Calvin nodded but didn't speak.
“What is it then?” asked George.
“Ummm,” Calvin blushed and looked around, “I have to go to the bathroom,” he blurted.
Everyone laughed, then Brett said, “Me too Cal, lets see if we can find something.”
Sierra said, “Let me know what you find I could use a ladies room myself.”
“Me too,” piped in Margo.
“Tell you what,” said George, “I don't see why we need to stay here, lets see what's on the other side of that door and see if someone can show us to the facilities.”
They all got up and followed George through the door.
They found themselves under a wooden overhang and peering into a courtyard. The yard ended at another set of gates, these were wrought iron and wide open. On either side of the courtyard were stone buildings with wooden doors and no windows. In the center of the courtyard was a podium on a raised dais. Flanking the podium were stone pillars with brass bowls on top. People hurried about to and from the buildings and the other gate tower and disappeared through the inner gate.
George looked around. He decided to head for the building off to the right and closest to them. He could see smoke rising from that building and the smell of meat roasting also came from that direction. Surely someone there would be able to give him some information.
“Stop!” Commanded a loud voice. George stopped and turned in the direction of the commanding voice.
A tall redheaded man with a bushy beard and braids in his hair stood near the dais. He wore leather armor and had a large axe strapped to his back. On his head was a hard leather helmet. He looked fearsome. He was a giant of a man. Even George who was not a small man felt small next to this guy. He had to be nearly seven feet tall. His dark eyes glittered with anger and his cruel mouth curled into a sneer. “You were told to remain in the tower room!” he bellowed, “where do you think you are going?”
George, not easily intimidated stood up to the giant and said, “ For starters we are free people, who have been stranded in a place we know nothing of, other than the fact that your hospitality has been cordial if lacking warmth, we see no reason at the point why we are to obey anyone other than ourselves. At the moment we have physical needs to meet.”
The giant looked amused rather than taken aback by George. “He said, your needs will be met in due time. However I cannot allow you to wander uninhibited through my town. Until you understand where you are you can only cause harms to my people. Return to the tower and I shall see that all your needs are met.”
George looked at Calvin, “Can you hold on for a while longer?” Calvin nodded, but his eyes told a different story. George turned to the giant, “Can we at least let the boy relieve himself? He is extremely uncomfortable.”
The giant looked at Calvin as if he just noticed him for the first time, Then he whistled and another boy came running. He led Calvin off to the building across the courtyard. TC followed Calvin.
The rest went back to the room in the tower.
The evidence of their breakfast had been removed, but a fresh pitcher of the sweet clear drink and mugs had been left. George filled a mug and waited. Presently Calvin and TC came back followed by the red giant. Calvin sat next to George and TC lay on the floor at his feet.
The giant looked around the room. Each one of them physically felt the scrutiny of the man. His dark eyes bored through them as if pulling their personal information from them. Indeed as he began to speak, they realized he know more about them than they could believe.
“I know you all are wondering how you arrived here. You are also wondering just where here is. Well you have arrived at what the Norse called Midgaard. It means in the middle. You are between worlds. Some religions would even call it purgatory but truly this is not the space between life and death. Although where you came from you all suffered events that could have led to your deaths. In reality the events catapulted you here, which is why your physical bodies and all belongings on you at the time came with you.”
He paused allowing this information to sink in. He watch as the looks of incredulity spread across their faces. Then he continued. He looked first at Calvin. “You are the anomaly. Normally one your age is not selected. It is to distressful to your family to have you missing. Also the fact that the dog accompanied you is strange. Animals typically die in the transition. This dog has a special quality we have not yet been able to understand.”
“To help your families cope with the loss of their loved ones typically a replica of you is left in place. With the boy this was not possible as the dog was attached to him when he arrived. I'm sorry,” he looked with regret at Calvin, “your parents will suffer much grief at your loss, more so that there is not a body to bury or mourn over. They will not know what has happened to you.” again the giant paused, allowing them to contemplate what he said.
They all looked at each other. None of them knew what to say. They all felt a sense of loss, of a door closing with slamming finality.
“Soooo, we're not dead, but we can't go back to ... earth?” Sierra said, trying to make sense of what the giant was saying.
The giant nodded.
Calvin raised his hand, “will they have an amber alert for me?” It would have been funny but the look of anguish on his face made Brett swallow any thought of laughing, instead he decided to add his own levity, “well that's it I don't have to worry about keeping my scholarship anymore, nor do I have to worry about that damn english paper anymore!” he grinned but quickly stopped when he saw the looks of sadness on the others faces.
“You know Brett, it will hit you that you just left behind all the people that care about you. Can you imagine how your family and friends will feel when they find your “replica”.” Margo's tone was fraught with pain. Brett felt like his mother had just scolded him for taking more than his share of mashed potatoes. He frowned and refused to look at her.
The giant spoke again. “You do have a choice, however should you choose to go back, your lives will not be the same. They will be diminished. You will be medically unable to care for yourselves because of the damage to your physical bodies. The longer you are here, the less able to go back you are.
That produced a clamor. They all spoke at once. Sierra's voice won out, “so why were we dumped in the wilderness and not here right away? Why were we not given this choice immediately?” she demanded.
The giant calmly waited until he had all of their attention. “You have always had the choice. Many who come here never make it as far as Midgaard castle. They all will themselves back. All of you however, have something in you that searches for more than your lives on earth have provided you. Essentially, before you got here you had a desire for more. You all feel that there is something special about yourselves. Something more than your lives on earth can fulfill.” It was obvious he had struck a chord with them. They all turned inward to weigh the truth of his words. It was Calvin he addressed his next to.
“Young man, again I say that it is rare that a child comes here. Most children have a longing to be home with their parents and families that supersedes anything else. There truly is something special about you, in fact, if I remember anything of lore, there is a prophesy that that speaks of your coming. I am just the initiator, and prophesy and lore are far out of my knowledge, but all of us here do have a rudimentary grasp on it. You will be sent to the magesterium and there the wizards will be able to tell you specifically why you are here.” He looked at TC Brown who lay calmly at Calvins feet. “The dog is a mystery as well. There is no mention of him at all.”
Calvin, who had been listening intently said, “Her.”
“what?” said the giant.
“Her, TC is a she.”
“oh, hmmm that may actually make a difference,” mused the giant, “but then again that is out of my realm of knowledge.”
The giant looked around at the group. They all had some sort of look of expectation on their faces, mixed with hope and a bit of fear.
The giant smiled at them and oddly his bearded smile took the hard glittering look out of his eyes and replaced it with a warm friendly open look that invited them to relax.
“I must asked each of you a question and then you will exit through the door. You will each have your own guide who will take you to where you need to be. I know you still want to know your purpose, that will reveal itself as you go. Your purpose is buried within you. We, here at Midgaard, will teach you how to unlock it.” The giant looked at George. “you are the eldest, I will start with you.”
As the giant and George talked, Calvin drifted into his own thoughts. He absently stroked TC's head and ears while he thought about everything that had happened to him. He missed his mom and dad. He knew they would be very sad that he was missing. He knew he could go back, but he always felt that he was supposed to do something important. He knew he wasn't like other kids, which was why his best friend was a dog. He really didn't like the kids in his neighborhood. They had always seemed so, fake. To him they didn't have much substance. They always wanted to watch TV and play dumb games like hide n seek and cops n robbers. Those things bored him. He had been a good student. His mom was always happy about how he did in school, but he found that easy as well. Video games were fun and so were computer games. But even those lost their charm as soon as he beat them. He always thought the games could have more.
The door opened and a man wearing white linen pants, shirt and brown knee high boots came in. George stood up and said goodbye to everyone and disappeared through the door with the man.
Sierra was next. She looked nervous but excited, like her life was just about to get good. The giant asked her what her dream for life was. She looked blankly at him for a moment and then solemnly she said, “I have always wanted to be a warrior. I feel strong and I feel like I can run forever. I feel like I could save many people. My mother wouldn't let me join the military. So I became a cop. She wasn't happy with that either, but it meant I would stay in New York near her.” Sierra's voice broke, “mama died last year of lung cancer. She never smoked, but the factory she worked in did. It killed her. I never wanted to live that way. I have always wanted more. To be more.” She gazed at the giant, her dark brown eyes blazed, daring him to diminish what she said.
He nodded at her with all the solemnity ascribed to a monk in mass. He said, “Then Sierra a warrior is what you shall find yourself to be. Come now, it is time to step through the door and unlock the fire that burns at your core.”
As she stood her eyes shone with hope and promise. She was eager to get started. A woman in white linen escorted her out.
Margo knew she was next. She was skeptical, after listening to George and his desire to teach and the longing for his wife and Sierra's fantasy's of grandeur, she was ready just to ditch the whole thing and take her chances as a vegetable on earth. In fact, she opened her mouth to say “send me back” when the giant turned to her. As he looked directly at her she felt him tug at her soul. She felt her doubts and skepticism fall away and the deepest of longings in her soul surfaced. She knew on one level that she had suppressed these things in herself because they did not mesh with her strict upbringing, nor were they carefully controlled feelings. To give into her dreams meant losing control. As she looked at the giant she wondered if she had that right. She had a sense that she had been missing some deep potential in herself.
She heard the giants question and found herself saying, “I want to do magic. I know I can.” Her logical controlled side was screaming frantically at her that she was nuts. It wasn't possible. Margo stood up and pushed her logical, unreasonable, control freak away and followed the woman who came for her out the door.
Brett was next. He couldn't wait. He knew what he wanted, or at least he thought he did until the giant turned his gaze on him. Brett felt small. Just like he did the day his dad left. His mom and dad had fought brutally. His mom bore the bruises for weeks after and even then she seemed diminished. She never remarried. She worked a lot and pushed him just as hard. She would always tell him that he needed to be more than she was. She had always wanted more, but she said her choices led her to where she was. She would tell him it didn't have to be that way for him.
By the time he went to college his mom was still struggling. Now instead of raising him she was taking care of his grandfather. He was dwindling from Alzheimers and proved to be a 24hr concern for his mom. He knew deep down that she wanted to be there to watch him play basketball, but she couldn't leave his grandfather for even a day. She continued to work long hours to pay for the nursing care when she wasn't there.
He felt so bad for her. He didn't know what to do. And that was his deepest desire. He wanted to be a hero. Rescue those who needed help. He wanted to make lives easier. He just had no idea how to accomplish that.
The giant simply said, “You will learn.”
With that Brett was walking out the door behind the man that came for him.
“Calvin,” said the big man. “your uniqueness will enable you to not only unlock your own mysteries but you will be able to puzzle out mysteries that have confounded learned scholars for ever. I am taking you to the school of mysteries.” with that they walked out the door. Calvin was amazed. The courtyard that had been there when they walked out the first time was gone. In fact, he and the giant were standing before a large wrought iron gate that stood open to them. A cobbled path stretch down a low rise up to a drawbridge lowered before a formidable castle with towers and turrets.
“Wow!” he exclaimed, this is cool!
The giant smiled that friendly warm smile. “this is to be your home while you learn all sorts of things, including your purpose here.”
“Is this where the others are too?” Calvin asked.
The giant shook his head. “The only one besides your self is Margo. The others will be learning their purpose in other realms her in midgaard.”
“Will I see them again?”
The giant looked at him. “It is possible. We cannot know for sure.” The giant smiled again and said, “it's time for you to begin. Cross the drawbridge and enter the castle. There a seneschal will see you settled.”
“you're not taking me in?” Calvin asked.
“no I can't. My realm of knowledge prevents me from entering the domain of the wizards.”
Calvin then waved at the giant. He and TC walked down the cobbled path. When they got to the drawbridge he looked back up the rise but the giant was no longer there.




Entanglements

Exile

Sierra cursed. She had been trying for months to master the quarterstaff she fought with. She felt like the skill was nearly there but some quality of it eluded her. Master Kumu rapped on the floor with his own staff and patiently reminded her that she was over thinking again.
Master Kumu was one of the most surprising people she had ever met. In fact, she had jokingly referred to him as Master Sumu when she first saw him. He looked like a Sumu wrestler. She quickly dumped that line of thought when she saw him demonstrate his weapons knowledge for his class of novices. He was fluid and moved with blinding speed. Her respect for him continued to climb the more she studied with him.
Right now however, she felt he was asking the impossible. He kept saying let go, quit fighting yourself. You are blocking your potential. She grunted with the effort of executing a particularly complicated sequence in the form she was practicing.
Finally Kumu stood up and rapped his staff on the wooden floor. “Enough!” he commanded. “I cannot watch you struggle anymore today. Do not come back until you understand why you block yourself from allowing the form to flow flawlessly. You fight the pattern. The pattern is harmonious with all our movements. To battle it is to defeat yourself. You must flow with the pattern. You do not control it and it does not control you. You coexist in harmony, together! BAH! I have told you this many times. You must live it not hear it. Go to the woods. Do not come back until you understand this principle as a part of your being!”
The entire group gasped. Kumu had not exiled a student in years. Sometimes exile meant the student would never return. Sierra was crushed. She felt she had failed. She gathered her bag and headed for the door. Kumu appeared at the door. “One last word. You are close. Let go and be free.”
she looked at him with anguish. She felt she had done all that he asked. She just didn't understand. She lowered her head so her tears wouldn't show and she left.
As she walked across the compound to her billet another woman hailed her, “Sierra, I just heard,” she called across the training yard. Her name was Bria. She didn't come from earth, but some other world that was a lot like earth. Her skin had a golden caste to it and she was completely bald. She and sierra made fast friends. Bria had been in Midgaard for two years. “Wow! Exile. That hasn't happened for a long time. You know,” she looked at Sierra with a look of craftiness, Bria had an uncanny ability to turn woeful situations around, “you could take this exile as an opportunity to come back with even greater skill and knowledge. Consider it a test they only reserve for the best.” Sierra gazed at Bria. “You know girl you are amazing. Thank you for that piece of advice.” she hugged Bria and with a lighter step headed for her trial in exile.
Sierra took her meager belongings from her sleeping quarters. She had earned her items during the months she had been training in Midgaards warrior school. She had a knife that she won in a hand to hand combat against another student, she had a leather bag, that she made from her first deer kill. She was taught how to cure the hide and create useful things. The others had laughed at her bag at first but once she had it done and they saw what the two extra leather strips were for, they all followed suit. Sierra felt like the inventor of the backpack. She also had a limited wardrobe. Her most important pieces were her shoes. She mourned the loss of her running shoes, but they just did not last in the brutal existence she now lived.
She looked around the room. She had everything she worked for. As the bedroll was there when she arrived she left it there. She assumed that since she would be gone then her room would go to a new comer. People like her showed up on a regular basis. Some from her world but there were an infinitesimal amount of worlds out there that many were just from other places. People ranged in all shapes and sizes. Not all were humanoid. From what she could tell Midgaard did a brisk business of recruiting.
Why? Was a question each and every person asked. She assumed that once she figured out her purpose she would understand why Midgaard existed. With the access to the variety of worlds, why would the technology of Midgaard remain stuck in the middle ages.
She planned to contemplate these things in her exile. She felt that answers lie in serious consideration of of these very questions. “Hmmm,” she thought, “Maybe... just maybe that was what master Kumu wanted her to do? Could it be that simple? Naw, there must be more.” she stopped by the mess hall to talk to the cook.
She entered the giant kitchen where the smell of roasting meat and baking bread started her mouth watering. She went to one of the cooks and asked if she could take a loaf of bread and some cheese with her. The cook looked at her fearfully and backed away. Sierra was startled. What in the world was going on? She approached another and got pretty much the same reaction. Finally the head cook who had always been quite jovial and friendly to her came over.
“what are you doing here exile? You are frightening my staff, now leave and do not come back unless you have been released from your punishment!” he showed her the door and slammed it on her. Sierra was shocked. Her hope of moments before lay dashed on the door that had closed in her face. Tears slid down her cheeks. This time she avoided everyone and headed for the back gate which led to the Forest of the Forgotten.


Hero in the making

Brett was scrubbing yet another giant pot and wondering how in the world pot scrubbing was going to turn him into a hero. For the last several months he had mucked stalls, cleaned billets, landscaped, and was a dishwasher and cooks gopher. He was nearly done with the big black pot he was working on. He had been scrubbing for an hour, and as usual what he thought was done would surely not be enough for Cook. Cook always said he had to see himself in the pot, but these cauldrons never had a shiny surface, even the day they were forged. So Brett did what he was told and hoped one day that Cook would see himself.
Suddenly there was a commotion happening over by the storeroom. Brett stood up and tried to see what was happening. Cook was dressing someone down. A warrior it looked like by the gear. Brett was shocked. The warriors were the highest regarded here, even the student warriors had more regard than the average workers. Then Brett saw who the warrior was. It was Sierra. He wondered what she had done. He hadn't seen her in weeks and when he did it was always from a distance. He thought that she probably didn't know she was here. At any rate he wasn't allowed to talk to warriors so he never approached her. When cook slammed the door on her, he told one of the other cooks that he needed to relieve himself and he slipped out another door.
Just in time he saw her striding down the hill toward the stables. He followed her. She walked passed the stables and down to the postern gate. He was shocked. No one went to that gate unless they were exiled. He wondered. She paused at the gate for a long moment, then she turned and looked back at the training grounds. Her face looked both extremely sad and angry at the same time. He wanted to go to her and find out what was wrong. He took two steps and she saw him. She shook her head at him and quickly disappeared through the gate. He ran to the gate and looked out. She had already melted into the dense foliage of the Forest of the Forgotten. He was about to turn back when something caught his eye. He looked down and found a coin. He picked it up and realized it was a quarter, from his own world. “how odd,” he thought. He figured Sierra must have dropped it. He would hold onto it in case he ever saw her again.
He trudged back up to the kitchen and slipped inside. The whole place was in an uproar. Brett went to another kitchen helper like himself and whispered, “what did I miss?”
The girl turned to him. She had long dark hair that was pulled back into a messy knot. Her face was plain and unremarkable, but her eyes were so blue you could lose yourself in them, but Brett had learned the hard way that her species was not one to mess with. She came from a world where women were the ruling class and they made the rules. A relationship with her kind was permanent. Fortunately she wasn't interested in him and let him know it. As a result she tended to treat him with disdain. At the moment however, the excitement the kitchen made her want to talk and he was the only one she could talk to. The rest of the kitchen staff held higher rank than either of them and usually did nothing more than order them around.
The girls name was Fortuna, she looked at Brett with those disconcerting eyes. “A warrior student came in here looking for food, but she had been sent away to exile. They must not have told her that exiles get shunned immediately. No one is allowed to help them. They are in exile because they need to learn something they are not understanding here. It is thought that if you can't learn it in exile you will never learn it.” Fortuna frightened him. As she spoke she had the look of a vulture who had found a bonanza of fresh meat. He counted himself lucky that he did not get messed up with her.
He said, “so what happens if she doesn't get whatever “it” is?”
“I told you imbecile! If she doesn't figure it out she doesn't come back!”
He sighed, “I mean will she be shunned by all of Midgaard?”
Fortuna gave him the look of disdain that she was so good at, “she will never see Midgaard again. The Forest of the Forgotten is aptly named. You never leave it and eventually you are forgotten by those on the outside.”
“Has anyone ever been rescued from the forest?”
“What are you? Slow?! Why would anyone go in their unless they were forced. In fact I think there is a spell on the gate that only allows an exile admittance. Ut oh!” she said and turned her eyes to the approaching figure of Cook.
Cook was a big man. He only smiled at those he liked. He never smiled at Brett and he noticed Fortuna never got a smile either, which reminded Brett that for all her posturing she truly was in no better position than he was. They were the lowest of the low. And apparently moving up and out was just as much a mystery to her as it was to Brett because she had been there for a few years, scrubbing pots, mucking stalls and cleaning billets. Brett had only been at it for a few months.
Cook stood over Brett and Fortuna. He glowered down at them. Both tried to shrink to small and inconspicuous, but as Cook demonstrated everyday, he could see what a microscope in Bretts world would fail to magnify. He picked up the cauldron Fortuna had been scrubbing and inspected it. Grunting he set it down and then he picked up Bretts. As he inspected it he said, “so the two of you feel that you can do work and gossip at same time?” He turned his hawklike gaze on both of them. “I tell you, you can do nothing if mouth open you can not see work surface.” he dropped the heavy cauldron back in the washstand, splashing both Fortuna and Brett with soapy water. “you will dump dirty water and start over. I must see face in pot before pot is clean!” he growled.
Brett didn't know what it was, but he felt indignation wash over him. For once he was tired of scrubbing a pot that would never shine, of mucking stalls and of cleaning up after people who should be able to clean up after their able bodied selves. He stood up and looked Cook directly in his beady hawk like eyes. Quietly he said, “I will not scrub this pot any further. This pot has never, nor will it ever reflect anything even the fire that forged it.” Instead of fear, Brett felt a peace, a calm of righteousness blanket him.
Cook glared at him and then like the sun he smiled. “Ah you smart boy. One of the smartest. Did not take you long to figure dat out. Come, I get you something to eat and den you go see Master Tiloc for next step in education.”
Brett was floored. He was done with pots. He looked at Fortuna. Her blue eyes blazed with hatred. She stood up and shouted after them. “Hey! I've been here longer than him. I knew these pots never reflect, but I never said anything! Hey what about me!”
Cook stopped and turned to Fortuna. “Get back to work girl. You not learn everything yet. Now shut up an make pot shine or I send you to Forest of Forgotten!” with that he turned his back on Fortuna and led Brett to the dining hall. Brett looked back and saw Fortuna sobbing at her plight. The rest of the staff continued to work as if nothing extraordinary happened. He felt sorry for her momentarily. Before he stepped through the door his eyes locked with hers and he knew he needed to watch his back where she was concerned.


Back to Basics

Margo concentrated. A small light appeared at her fingertips and then winked out. She was elated! Today she had finally been able to tap into the small little nugget inside herself that would open the door to her magic. For months she had been listening to the Magisters talk about magic method, describing various ways to reach that core of power within and manipulate it to do your bidding. She had faithfully followed the exercises they had preached and today she found it. She was so happy she wanted to run down the corridor and shout to everyone. She didn't of course. That was not her way. Rigid and formal. That was Margo. She didn't particularly care for that view of herself. She envied the other girls who could relax and even blow off their studies for a night to enjoy free time.
As the magisters said, your time here is what you make of it. Margo felt that to seriously understand it all she needed to be a serious student. Now she felt that her hard work was starting to pay off. Of course she wasn't the first in her class to tap into her magic core. Many of the other girls already had and were moving on to more advanced things. Some of those girls were ones that hardly worked at it. In fact, they took the whole thing as a fun pastime. That irritated Margo. How could anyone thing that wielding magic was just a fun pastime? She got so frustrated thinking about it that she was unable to concentrate and she could not bring the light up again. She sighed and pulled out her well worn book of magic exercises. She really didn't need the book anymore, she had memorized everything in it, but the book was a leather bound book that felt so warm and comfortable in her hands. It relaxed her just to read from it. The pages were hand written and beautifully decorated with little scenes and demonstrations of magic.
She turned to the section “How to connect with your inner magic”. As she began reading her eyes drifted to a picture in the margin of the book. She did not remember seeing that picture before. It was of a woman sitting on a swing in the midst of a beautiful garden. Her hand was outstretched and a ball of light emenated from her palm. As Margo looked she could swear the woman was gently swinging and the ball of light actually glowed. The picture seemed to grow. The next thing Margo knew she was sitting on the ground next to a tree in that beautiful garden. The woman on the swing was singing and the ball of light in her hand pulsed and crackled.
The woman smiled at Margo. “I have been wondering when you would come to me.” she said.
Margo just gaped at her.
The woman laughed. It always happens this way. “each and every student is surprised to find a Magister actually residing in a book. Oh I greet each of you from a picture in the book, but I am careful that I only present a picture that calls to the individual.” she smiled again.
“Oh now, let me introduce myself. I'm afraid I have the advantage on you!” she laughed merrily. “My name is Tiarna dar Laybran, but I asked that my acolytes call me Sorceress Ti.”
Margo smiled a weak smile. She had remained sitting on the ground, staring at this amazing woman. A woman residing in a book! And Margo thought she had opened her mind to new possibilities. Obviously she needed to open the door further to take all this in!
Margo stammered out a belated hello.
Ti laughed a merrily. Margo giggled along. “Come,” said Ti, “we have some catching up to do. Most of the other girls have surpassed you and thats not good if you are going to be the most powerful we have ever seen.”
Margo had been following Ti on a footpath through her spectacular garden. She stopped in mid stride and said, “most powerful? What?” she was afraid to follow the thought further.
Ti laughed again. “They said you would be hesitant. Well do not worry, the hesitancy will be a thing of your past!”
Margo felt a mixture of fear, trepidation and yes there was a definite spark of anticipation.
“Excellent!” exclaimed Ti, “embrace the anticipation, let the others go.”
Margo was astounded at how well Ti knew her thoughts and feelings.
Ti smiled, “of course I do I'm an empathic mind reader! Thats why I teach. The magic I do is simple compared to what I teach. I understand all of it but the power to wield it ... ah that is for those like you. We have been waiting for you for oh lets see at least a millennium. At last you are here and I get to teach you. So lets get started, come my cottage is not far.” she walked a few steps and then turned back so abruptly that Margo nearly bumped into her. “you do like cats don't you? Well and not just cats but animals?”
Startled Margo just stared for a moment. “I guess so,” she said. Her family had never allowed pets when she was growing up so she never had cats or dogs. She had wanted a rabbit like her friend Chelsea had but her parents said no and that rodents were dirty and messy. She had always liked going to Chelseas house and playing with the rabbits. So she supposed animals were ok.
Ti turned and continued up the path to a small wooden gate. There was no fence, but a giant well manicured hedge surrounded the cottage. They walked through the fence and stepped into another garden exploding with flowers of all sorts. In the center of the garden was a large oak tree. A bench was built around the oak so a person could sit under the tree and enjoy the garden from any point. Fountains and statuary dotted the garden.
It was a place that you could wander and explore and find something new each time you walked through. To Margo it was a magical place.
Ti clapped her hands in delight, “I'm so happy that you enjoy my garden! It is my pride and joy. I spend hours out here while I wait for students to find me. Don't worry I also let my students spend time here as well. It is quite special.” she winked at Margo.
She opened the wooden door and a small corgi dog bounded through barking happily at Ti, as if welcoming her home. “Maddie!” she got down on her knees and hugged the excited little dog. The dog barked happily and licked her face. Ti laughed with joy.
Margo stood and watched. She wasn't quite sure what to do. A large cat sauntered out of the cottage next. It sat on the stoop and eyed maddie and Ti's reunion with what Margo thought was boredom.
Ti stood and looked at the cat. He was black and white with a little pink nose. He noticed Ti looking at him so he licked his paw as if to say he was busy and couldn't give her the time of day. Ti scooped him up, “Silly cat,” she said “I know you want attention and scratches behind your ears.” at that the cat started purring and nuzzled its head under Ti's chin. Ti looked at Margo, “do you see the little games a cat plays, while a dog is open about how it feels, the cat expects you to know what it wants. They are subtle with their communication.” Her voice took on a tone that Margo had heard from every teacher, a tone of instruction.
“Yes Margo our lessons begin, and the study of the animals around us help us understand the complexities of communication available to us all if we but pay attention. Therein lies the secret to unlocking your potential and your considerable magic power.”
Margo was puzzled but she reminded herself that an open mind would help.
“Yes, Margo open your mind but also open your heart, emotions and your actions. You waste to much time worrying about the other girls and their study habits. You also spend to much time trying to prove yourself. You have nothing to prove. You are who you are. You are fighting you development by trying to move it along. Think of it this way, as a young girl you knew you would grow up and become a woman. Did you wonder how you would do that? No not for a moment did you worry how your body would grow or if it would, you just trusted that it would. Well my dear, consider your magic in the same light. You know it is there. You have found evidence of it.” as she talked she led Margo into the cottage and had prepared tea and scones. These she took out another door into yet another garden. This one was filled with fountains and a stream of water snaked throughout. A little footbridge crossed at one point and in corner water flowed over rocks in a two high waterfall. The sound of the water was relaxing.
Tis set the tray of tea and scones on a small table and indicated Margo should sit and poured her some tea.
As Margo sipped her tea and nibbled a scone, Ti continued her lecture. “your ability to do magic grows as you do, that is if you know about your ability. Your world has been centuries as suppressing magic and promoting technology, which technology is a fun thing, but so much richer when it is combined with magic. Anyhow, my whole point is that you do not need to unlock your magic so much as you need to have faith that it will develop naturally. It will develop quickly to catch up to your years and your physical development.” Ti sipped her tea and then continued.
“Like any development there are moments of pain, but also moments of great satisfaction. There will be disappointment when you feel stuck on a plateau, but again have faith that it will fall into place. You will experience less pain the more you let it flow and don't try to exert control.” she paused and thought about it, “let me clarify. You will learn how to control your ability much like you have learned to control language but it will also flow effortlessly as well.”
Margo suddenly felt overwhelmed and tired. In such a short time Ti had said much. Margo knew that her views and philosophy and indeed her upbringing all conspired to make her who she was at present. She had a long road to go before she would fully grasp what Ti was telling her.
Ti watched the struggle play out on Margo's face and in her head. Then she said, “i think that will end our lesson for today. You have much to think about.” she pulled a small leather bound book from her pocket and handed it to Margo. “I would like you to write a journal. Use this only when you are alone and are contemplating the words I have spoken here today. Keep the journal with you at all times. When you have come to the point where I feel you are ready for another lesson, my picture will appear in the book and you will come to me then.”
Margo nodded and accepted the journal. She looked at Ti and said. “May I wander this garden before I go? It intrigues me.”
Ti laughed that infectious merry laugh, “Absolutely. When you are ready to go back simply come sit in this chair, put your head down as if to take a nap and you will find yourself back in your room.”
Margo thanked her, slipped the journal into a pocket of her robe and stepped out onto the path leading up to the footbridge and the waterfall.


Enlightenment

When Ethel passed away, George assumed it would only be a matter of time before he would follow her. Now however, he wasn't so sure. This whole experience made him rethink the natural events of life. When George left the tower room, his guide walked him through the courtyard and through the iron gate. He told George that his path was still unsettled and unlike the others he could not yet be placed on his journey. George had some decisions to make. He took George to the Copper Cauldron Inn. A homey little place for travelers like himself. The woman who ran the pub on the main floor looked familiar, but he couldn't place her. She was young, late twenties, early thirties, George assumed and buxom. “Nice” came to mind. She didn't even give him a second glance.
The guide chuckled to George. “Marie is full of herself. Give her a few days and she'll know your story. If you think she just snubbed you, you need to think again. Marie learned loads about you in that single glance. My best piece of advice, never underestimate a woman, especially not that one.” The guide continued to chuckle and led George up the stairs to the rooms above.
The room was simple yet clean. The bed looked plump and inviting. There was a three drawer dresser with an oil lamp sitting on top. A small three legged nightstand next to the bed and chair in one corner, near the window. The window had a single panel linen curtain that was pulled to one side. From the window, which were French style windows, he could see out over the village. In the background white capped mountains rose above the formidable forest.
George turned to the guide. “Thank you for seeing me settled. I appreciate the advice too. I was married for forty years before my wife passed. Only now is her advice starting to sink in.” George laughed Ruefully.
The guide smiled in sympathy. He said, “take your time contemplating why you are here and what you next step is. There truly is no rush, Midgaard is timeless.” with that the guide bowed to George and stepped out of the room.
George looked at the dresser. He had nothing to put in it, but curiosity encouraged him to look in it. In the top drawer were various undergarments, all of an old fashioned medieval sort. George wondered if instructions came with the pieces because some just did not look right. The second drawer held shirts of various lengths styles and colors. He pulled out a brown earth colored shirt and held it up. It really looked like it would fit him. He tossed the shirt on the bed and opened the bottom drawer. Pants of cloth and leather in there. George pulled out a dark gray pair of cloth pants. He wasn't too sure about the leather. Images of men in the 70's with tight leather pants came to him and he just couldn't see that look on him.
He changed into the shirt and pants leaving his modern day undergarments on. He wasn't quite ready for what lay in the top drawer. He had been wearing his crappy tennis shoes, the ones he used only for mowing the lawn. They were grass stained and falling apart. He looked around but there weren't any other shoe choices so he put the tennis shoes back on. On the back of the door hung a hooded cloak. He left that there as the day was warm and George got hot faster than he got cold.
He looked around the room a bit more and found that the little nightstand had a small drawer underneath. Inside the drawer he found a note and some copper coins. The note said, “the lavatory is down at the end of the hall to your right. Clean towels are in the closet next to the lavatory. You can enjoy washing facilities and a toilet there. You do share with the other residents so please be kind and pick up after yourself. Thank you, the Copper Cauldron”
George decided to have a look around. He took the coppers and placed them in a little cinch pouch attached to his pants. Then he peeked out the door into the hallway. He thought about locking his door but it didn't have a lock or key. “Besides,” he thought, “I have nothing anyone would want!”
He stepped out into the Hallway and closed the door behind him. There were doors on both sides of the corridor. The doors were numbered. The one directly across from his was 10. His was 1. He walked to the end to a wooden door with louvers. It was ajar so he opened it and looked in. The room was tiled in saltillo tile from floor to ceiling. The ceiling was open beam rough cut wood and smelled of cedar. In one corner was a a deep basin filled with steaming hot water. Three or four people could sit in it at once comfortably. There were steps down into the basin. George could see stone benches under the water. The basin continuously drained out through a small canal at the back and through a hole in the wall. From another hole on the other side the water continuously flowed into the basin. That water steamed as it exited the hole. Another door in the opposite corner led to a privy. George couldn't see any modern flushing convenience, but neither did it smell like outhouses typically did. He closed the door and looked around a bit more. There were hooks for hanging towels and clothes. There was also a large wicker basket that George assumed was for used towels. Windows circled the room up near the ceiling and a large rock fireplace sat in the center of the room.
George went back out to the hallway and found the closet built into the wall with the towels. Like gold bullion several thick yellow bars of soap were stacked on one shelf. Satisfied that he knew where the toiletries were, George walked back down the corridor, passing his own room and descending the stairs back to the common room.
The room was empty. In fact, Marie wasn't behind the bar either. He took that time to look around and get familiar with the room. It was a large room holding about fifteen various sized tables.
The tables were wooden and all looked rough and well used. The floor was also wood. Looking closely George guessed it to be oak. The walls were whitewashed stone. Sconces hung about three quarters up from the floor. Next to the entry door which was in the middle of the wall, were large multi paned windows with lead fittings. Heavy drapes were pulled open on both windows revealing the cobblestone road and the buildings across the road. A large chandelier with thick tallow candles hung from the ceiling which George judged to be eight foot high or so. Tucked in the corner near the stairs was a raised dais just large enough for three or four musicians or actors to provide entertainment to guests. He turned and studied the bar. It ran partially along the back wall and into the corner continuing a short way along the side wall. A dutch type door opened into another room that George assumed were the kitchens, judging from the smells emanating from there. The bar appeared to be made of mahogany and polished to a deep lustre. Stools sat in a neat row before the bar and a brass foot rest ran along the bottom of it. The bar top was made from a yellow wood that George didn't immediately recognize, but it made a beautiful contrast to the dark mahagony. To the right of the bar was a large stone fireplace which George assumed kept the place warm in the winter. Tapestries adorned the wall behind the bar. Each depicted a medieval scene of some heroic knight.
Tapestries also dotted the other walls. George walked around looking at each of them. He was struck by one that he felt was familiar, as if he had seen it before. It was a picture of a woman, a young woman sitting in a chair in a beautifully decorated garden. She appeared to be looking down at someone not showing in the tapestry.
He was puzzling over this when he realized there was someone standing next to him. He turned and saw Marie gazing at the tapestry also.
She said wistfully, “I love that picture. It makes me happy and sad all at once.”
George said, “do you know anything about the woman in the scene?”
“Oh yes I do! That's my sister Ethel, the day you asked her to marry you.” Marie grinned wickedly at him. “do you not remember that day?”
George stared at Marie and then turned back to the Tapestry and there it was. As plain as could be. His Ethel, accepting his hand in marriage. It had been over forty years since that day. But he did remember, but his memory was different. He remembered being scared to death that she was going to turn him down. So he remembered very little about where they were. It was a blur. He just remembered being over the top happy with joy that she had accepted his proposal. He told Marie that.
Marie grinned at him. “Ethel was happy too. She rushed home and told me right away.”
“but how?” asked George. “you were already missing by the time I met Ethel and I married.”
“Like the boy who arrived here with you, I to had a similar experience and came here. I remained in this inn waiting for my sister. She never came. I finally got the word that she had lived an incredible life with you and passed quietly to the next realm, or heaven as you call it. Eventually when my long life ends I will see her again. I made my life here in Midgaard and have found it to be a good one. Maybe you will choose the same? And maybe not.” Marie smiled at him and said, “sit. I will bring you food and drink.” With that she was gone, only to return a few minutes later with a loaf of dark bread, a hunk of cheese and a bowl of stew. She stepped to the bar and pulled a drought of foamy ale into an ice chilled crock.
“Enjoy your food. Once you are done, Red would like to meet with you in the town square and find out something of you plans.” she smiled, gave him a flirty wink and disappeared into the kitchen again.
George marveled at all that had happened to him. “Did he really have a heart attack?” he wondered, “Or was there more to it? Was there some divine reason he was here? Did it have something to do with Ethel?” George pondered these questions as he ate the hearty meal. He had never tasted any thing so good. “He silently apologized to Ethel whose cooking had been fabulous, but her sisters food was even better, and maybe,” he thought, “it was because of Midgaard. Maybe everything was better here.”
He finished the stew and cleaned out the bowl with the last of the bread. The ale washed it down in a cool refreshing manner. George sat for a minute and enjoyed the memory of the meal. He looked around. He was still the only one in the room. He picked up the bowl and crock and took it over to the bar. He didn't see anyone so he left them on the bar. Ethel had trained him and the kids well.
George then went to the main door and went out. He stood on the stoop of the inn and looked both ways down the street. It was a broad cobbled road. The way to his left led back to the gates in which he had entered. The way to the right led down to a circular widening of the road. In the center was a large fountain. George assumed that was where Red wanted to meet him.
As he walked he looked at the buildings. Definitely medieval, but they all looked so sturdy, made of stone and wood. Like the Inn the buildings were not ornate or fancy, but they had a look and feel of abundance. “In fact, thought George, “everything here had that feel, which engendered a feel of hope. Wow,” marveled George, “Had hope really been missing from my life?”
He walked up to the ornate fountain and was startled to find that the entire fountain had been carved from marble. It was gigantic. It had to be approximately ten foot tall in Georges estimation. A marble woman and man stood back to back on a mountain. Each figure had their hands outstretched and cupped. Water flowed from their hands in a gesture of abundance. Their carved faces held attitudes of joy and happiness. At their feet water flowed like waterfalls off the carved marble mountain. Around the base of the fountain was an inscription that encircled it. George circled the fountain so he could read it. It said, “Welcome all here in need of rest and replenishment.”
to George it was an odd inscription.
He was still contemplating the inscription when Red strode into the square. George looked around and realized that the area was deserted. For the middle of the day Midgaard seemed very quiet and lacked people.
Red stood next to George and looked at the fountain. He said, “come back in the evening when the fountain is lit up. It is very beautiful indeed!”
Red said, “I would like to show you something George. Follow me.”
Red walked across the square opposite where George had entered it. He passed the buildings lining the entry of the square and continued on toward a building at the end of the road. It looked palatial. Marble columns lined the front of the building, with marble stairs rising up to meet them. Red led George up these stairs and through ornate carved wooden doors. They entered a vast foyer with elaborate tapestries and marble benches. The floor was of polished granite. Across the foyer was another set of double doors. To the right and left were single smaller doors. Red continued to the double doors.
He opened the doors and let George pass by him. The vast room housed shelves loaded with books. There were also statues, sculptures, paintings and cases of various pieces of art. George just gaped.
Red said, “Magnificent isn't it? This is the collective works of all mankind. It is more vast than the lost library of Alexandria! In addition are collections from other worlds.” Red's eyes shone with pleasure as he describe the size and scope of the library.
George felt like he was in heaven. One of his greatest pleasures in life had been books. He loved to read and he loved history. Here he was surrounded by both!
Red was delighted by his reaction. He said, “I know you have not yet chosen your path and that your path may very well be to remain here. We could use a good man like you here. We receive hundreds of articles everyday which need to be studied, cataloged and placed here in the library.”
George was still incredulous. He said, “May I look around this place and let you know?”
Red laughed, “absolutely, I will introduce you to Hiram, one of the curators who can show you around a bit.”
“That would be great,” said George. “I really appreciate you showing this to me. I wish I could show this to my son Charlie. He is a school teacher, like I was and loves the library. My other two kids love to read, but they don't have the passion for diving into books that Charlie and I do. Ethel used to laugh at us with dusty books piled around us and debating the great authors.” George drifted into a moment of poignant nostalgia.
Red brought him out of his reverie by saying, “Hiram, this is George. He is new to Midgaard and has a love for libraries. I have asked him to help us here, but he would like a day or two to think about it. Could you show him around and maybe try to entice him?” Red winked at George as the serious and studious looking Hiram nodded to Red.
Red extended his hand and George shook it heartily, “George I will see you in about a week. Midgaard has need of me elsewhere. When I get back we'll talk and see if you are close to an idea of what you want from here. Hiram, have a great day.” and with that the big man was striding purposefully for the door. Oddly enough, as enormous as the library was, Red still was a big man.
Hiram smiled weakly at George. As if in direction opposition to Red, Hiram was a small slight man. He seemed uncomfortable smiling or making much of an expression at all. He didn't exactly look bothered that he had to show George around, but more like he was resigned to just one more thing on his already extensive list of things to do.
Hiram's outward attitude and his actual actions seemed at odds and occasionally throughout the tour George thought he even caught him genuinely enjoying himself. The tour took hours, by the time they had seen three floors of the library it was well past dark. Other patrons had already left the building and most of it was dark and quiet.
Hiram said, “I must say I did not expect to spend that long on a tour. Generally most people are overwhelmed by the first floor and some just in this general area, but you! You have a thirst for knowledge that far out weighs many of even our most passionate of curators. I truly hope you will come back tomorrow and indeed decide to join us in our work here.”
George was flattered. He had indeed felt like a kid in not just a candy shop but in candy land. He felt the small spark of his passion for learning rage to full bonfire blaze as he toured through not only great works of forgotten art but through complete histories of civilizations he had only heard mentioned in school as forgotten civilizations. Hiram had only shown him a small portion of human history, he had pointed to doors and floors that contained more and more works and history of humankind, straight from the beginning. He said that not all the history of mankind was from earth and it also mingled with histories of other sentient species from other worlds.
“Hiram,” he said, “I cannot begin to thank you for all the time you spent with me today showing me marvels beyond my wildest imagining. I believe I will accept Red's proposal when he comes back.”
Hiram actually grinned, but then his face went back to serious. “George I must be honest with you,” he said apologetically. “To be sure I have shown you wonders beyond imagination, however, accepting a post here is a commitment on truly should not take lightly. Come back tomorrow and we will talk about what it means to accept a post here, and not just in the library, but in Midgaard itself.”
Hiram would not speak more of it and insisted that George go back to the Inn, get supper and a good nights rest. He also asked if George would bring him a piece of Marie's pumpkin pie. George laughed and agreed to do so.
George stepped out into the night. The sky was clear and the stars (none that he recognized) stretched across the night sky like a brilliant band of gems glittering on black velvet. There was a soft warm breeze in the air that felt almost tropical rather than a breeze swept off a white capped mountains. George even thought he smelled a hint of the sea. And as far he knew he very well could have, except he did not remember anything but a sea of pines.
He stepped off the marble stairs of the library and turned toward the central square. The streets were still deserted but at least there were lights in the buildings. It made him feel that the place was less deserted that he originally thought during the day.
The fountain was splashing its waterfalls as it had earlier that day, however now in the dark, lights played about the fountain like multicolored fireflies. They dove in and out of the water streams. As he drew closer he thought he heard tiny joyous laughter.
George stood before the fountain watching the bright little sparks of fire dash about the fountain. As he watched he noticed that not all moved quickly, some circled the waterfalls in slow languid motion as if drifting through the air and water and even others hovered quite still on or around the fountain. He continued to watch the miniature light show for several minutes before becoming aware that the lights were actually small-faerie like creatures. George was astounded. Even after all he had seen today, these creatures still amazed him. He held out his hand to try to touch one but they all darted away. However it was as if they were all now aware of him and one came and hovered in from of him. It was a small little human like figure. The light seemed to emanate from the faeries wings.
George whispered, “Hello, are you a fairy?”
The little figure doubled over in laughter. “Yes and no,” it's tiny voice chimed at him. “we are of the world of faerie, yet our species is pixie. When you are next in your library learn of us. The world of faerie is quite large although it's inhabitants are quite small!” The pixie darted about in the air buzzing about George's head.
He was in awe. He said, “Your play in the fountain is very beautiful to watch!”
“Play!” exclaimed the pixie, “we are not playing we are working. If it were not for us the waters of Midgaard would not be so wholesome and refreshing. Watch more carefully and you will see what we do!” The pixie laughed with glee and dove into the nearest fall of water.
Indeed, as George watched he the pixies enter the water and glow brightly. Mists of dark steam rose off the water and dissipated into the night air. The pixie came back his light a bit dimmer and his face tired looking. “Do you see now? We purify the water of evil spirits that would harm those who drank or bathed in it. You're world for instance could seriously use pixies, and a few remain there but they are not enough to handle the demands of Earth. They are slowly dwindling in numbers. The humans on your world do not perform the rites which keep the pixies alive and strong. Eventually your water supply will fail.” He said this so cheerfully George didn't know what to think. As they spoke he noticed the pixie's light grew again and his face lost it's haggard look. In fact, his speed which had slowed also revved up. George said, “May I know your name?”
The pixie laughed and said, “You must tell me yours first!”
George grinned, “Fair enough, I am George Brew, new comer to Midgaard.”
“Greetings, George.” said the Pixie, “I am King Shi-ho-su.” He made a little mid air bow.
“It's a pleasure to meet you,” said George.
King Shi-ho-su laughed merrily.
George thanked the pixie for talking to him and enlightening him. He told the pixie he would definitely read up on the pixies and all the members of faerie. He stood back and with new eyes watched the lights weave in and out of the fountain. 'What a marvelous place,' he thought. That phrase would touch him many more times before the weeks end!
George bowed to the fountain, hoping his etiquette was adequate for the pixies. He thought he heard laughter as he walked away.
He continued down the road toward the Copper Cauldron. His step was light and he felt a hope and purpose in his life that he had not felt in years. Oddly enough he even felt that Ethel was nearby. He figured that was probably because of her sister. But it felt good to feel connected again. His only feeling of loss were his kids. But according to Marie, he would see them again. That brought him to another question, how does all of this fit in with the religion I was brought up to believe? He stopped in front of the Inn and started laughing. Here he was, nearly seventy years old and having another chance at life. It was an amazing thing. Somehow this all worked and he had a whole library to look in.
With a twinkle in his eye and a light heart, George strode into the Inn. It was busy. Patrons filled the main room to bursting. Musicians sat on the dais playing music and Marie had command of her bar. George, threaded his way through the crush of patrons and edged up to the bar.
Marie caught sight of him and disengaged from her conversation. On her way down she pulled him a drought of her fine ale and greeted him with “Look at you! I see a man who has found a new home!”
“Is it that obvious,” he grinned and down a large swallow of ale.
“It is!” she exclaimed. “so what have you decided on?”
“WOW!” he exclaimed, “Red introduced me to Hiram at the library. He took me on the tour of a life time. I saw things I never imagined possible and he says I have barely scratched the surface.”
Marie's eyes glittered. Softly she said, “the library. Thats great George.” somehow she seemed sad.
“Marie, what's wrong. What is it about the library I need to know?” he had the feeling that he wasn't being told everything. In fact, Hiram had even cautioned him about a hasty choice of joining the library.
Marie shook her head, “George it's truly not my place to say anything. The library is a most amazing place, in many ways. But it is also a place to be wary of. Knowledge is truly a double edged sword. How you wield it makes all the difference in the world.” Her voice took on a tone of caution. “My advice to you, and I do not say this lightly, but agree not to anything if your heart even feels the slightest tinge of wrongness. The library is yin and yang. It shines like a brilliant sun on one side, yet it's other side is the deepest blackness found in the universe. That is the nature of knowledge. Even a wise man can fall to its lure.” she stared at him hard for a moment. Then said, “I will only say this once because truly Midgaard denizens are not allowed to try to sway the choices of the newly arrived, but we are family and I will risk this much for you.” she looked around to see who was paying attention and then leaned close to him and whispered, “be wary of Red. He is not a bad man but his motivation is to protect Midgaard at any cost. He will sacrifice any who can help him achieve this goal. He too is bound by rules, but I don't know them. Just be careful.” with that she kissed him on the cheek and said in a loud cheerful voice, “My word man you downed that crock of ale! Let me pull you another drought!” she grabbed his mug, filled it and then went on to the next patron, leaving George with a subdued mood and much to ponder.


Girls!

Ginger laughed. Calvin tried again. Ginger laughed again, Calvin muttered under his breath, “Stupid girls!” this time he took a deep breath and concentrated. He moved the wand in the pattern the Magister had taught him and, 'was that it?' He watched as a light trickled out of his wand and formed into a cloud of butterflies. The butterflies shimmered about his and Ginger's heads for a few seconds and then began winking out of sight. The ever present TC attempted to catch a few before they disappeared.
Ginger clapped delightedly and said “You did it! Way to go!” TC barked in delight as if she were agreeing with Ginger.
Calvin beamed. He was learning magic. It was way better than video games. He wasn't so sure about the Ginger though. She followed him and TC around. She was also learning magic. She came to the castle right about the same time he did. There were other kids who had been there for a long time and others who continued to arrive after them. None came with animals like Calvin did, so it made him unique and somewhat of an oddity.
Ginger was the same age as Calvin. She had spent most of her life playing sports. She said her dad was big time into baseball and basketball so she and her three brothers pretty much were expected to play some sport or another. She played soccer. Ginger was from his world. There were very few kids from his world. Most of them were sent here by their parents for education. Kids from his world and a few other worlds got here because of some tragedy that happened to them. The last thing Ginger remembered was her dad driving home late from her brothers basketball game. She had fallen asleep in the back seat. The next thing she remembered was flying through the air and the ground rushing up to meet her. She woke up outside the gates of Midgaard with a a bump on her head. She had no idea how she got there or where the rest of their family was. Calvin asked about her Mom and Ginger said she had left shortly after her youngest brother was born. No one knew where she was. Her dad had remarried twice, but it never lasted long.
Ginger said that when she arrived in Midgaard the giant told her that her father and brothers were ok but they would be mourning her loss as she did not survive the accident. She said her father had fallen asleep at the wheel. He was injured and would recover, but he would not be the same since she was gone. Ginger had been sad for several days. She said she stayed in a childrens home in Midgaard until she could think clearly and decide what she wanted to do. She said she had stayed there for about a week when she told them she wanted to adventure and learn magic. So they sent her to the castle.
Calvin felt sorry for her, but she didn't seem to be sorry for herself. In fact, she always seemed pretty happy. Calvin on the other hand had moments of utter sadness and homesickness. He would lock himself in his room and refuse to come out while he felt sorry for himself, at least he did until Ginger came along and distracted him. TC was glad to see Ginger. TC was not a dog to just sit idly, she could but she did like to get out and run and sniff and chase things. Ginger provided that opportunity.
When Ginger came along Calvin had been struggling with the magic lessons. To him it was just like being back in school and he was hating it. It had even been worse because he had no family to go home to.
Ginger ran into him one day, literally. He had been walking, head down through the corridor to dinner and she had been running back to her room because she forgot her robe. She came around the corner at full force and knocked him to the ground. They were both so startled that neither knew what to say and then Ginger started to laugh. Her laugh was so infectious that calvin laughed too. She introduced herself and then said she had to get her robe or be late for dinner. Calvin said he would wait for her. He wasn't concerned about being late. She was the most exciting thing that had happened to him since he arrived.
She chatted to him all evening through dinner and then through study hall and all the way back to her room. She had asked him questions about himself and where he was from and chatted about how much fun she was having learning magic. He found out she had only been at the castle for about three weeks. He was surprised he hadn't seen her before.
She had laughed and said that he was always walking about with his head down, how did expect to notice anything. She was always saying things like that and at first it upset Calvin, but when he realized she was right he started to pay attention to what was around and couldn't believe everything he was missing. He also didn't feel so alone anymore.
Ginger learned fast and helped Calvin with his skills. She was extremely patient with him and never made him feel bad when he made mistakes even though she seemed to laugh at everything.
Now as they practiced for their illusions exam, Ginger was sitting on a large rock on a hill just outside the stables. The castle grounds were enormous. It was essentially a large castle surrounded by a village, surrounded by a wall and then a moat. They were near the outer wall and could see the tips of the pine trees if they stood on the low hill. The castle rose above the village to the west and they could see its towers looming over the village. The wall disappeared down and around the village to the north and south and far to the west if they squinted they could see the road leading down to the moat and drawbridge. Small groves of trees dotted the village and smoke rose from the chimneys. The stables they were sitting near belonged to the Silver Spoon Inn. It was a quiet place near the eastern gate. The road ran past the inn and down the slope to the gate which was more formidable than the main gate and rarely fully open. In fact a small door built into the gate stood open and a pair of sentries stood by it watching who came in.
From where they sat, Calvin and Ginger could see all sorts of activity. Calvin was excited that he could make the illusion spell work. He tried again and this time snakes slithered about their feet. They both conjured up sillier and sillier illusions and were laughing each time TC tried to bite the various illusions when a group of kids came up. Ginger became silent and stopped laughing, which totally surprised Calvin. The group consisted of three girls and two boys.
One girl, tall, with chestnut hair looked at the two of them. She smiled and said, “Well well aren't you good students, out here practicing for exams.” Her voice was sweet and nice. Calvin was enchanted. He said, “Yes we thought it best to get some practice in.” he felt lame for saying that to such an obviously smart girl.
She smiled sweetly at him and said “why don't you two come with us out the East gate? We are going to practice some magic too.”
Calvin was excited, finally he felt like he was fitting in. he just couldn't understand the look on Gingers face. She looked like she had just eaten a bug.
“Sure we'd be happy to practice with you.” Calvin said. He got up and looked at Ginger. She looked unhappy. “C'mon, lets go with them,” he urged.
Ginger shook her head.
“Why not,” he said irritated.
“Go if you want,” she said. “I'm going back to the castle.”
She turned and headed back toward the castle.
He looked at Ginger and then the group of kids. He decided to go with the group and headed down the road. He called for TC to come with him. She stood in the road looking after Ginger. He called her again and she reluctantly followed after him.
Calvin caught up to the group and the girl who had spoken earlier said, “So I have only seen you around a few times, what's your name?”
Calvin was flattered that she would talk to him. He even knew who she was. She was Amanda, one of the smartest students in the magisterium. She always did well on the tests and whenever they had to produce something, knowledge or a spell, she was one of the first. He was in heaven. She was also one of the prettiest girls he'd ever seen and the fact that she had invited him was beyond imagining. He could not turn this down. He soon forgot about Ginger and her reluctance.
The group exited the gate and trudged up the hill toward a stand of trees. The foliage was dense and soon the castle and its formidable walls were invisible. A few minutes later they emerged into a clearing that held an ancient looking stone table. Around the clearing were posts with ancient runes carved on them. The place gave Calvin the chills. TC kept near him and nearly tripped him because she leaned against his leg. Clearly she did not like the feel of the place. Calvin didn't either but he didn't want to show his new friends that he was afraid.
He looked around. A breeze blew through that sounded like a loan moan of someone in pain. The others seemed unconcerned. TC shivered at his side. He patted her to comfort her.
Amanda walked up to him and in her sweet voice explained the history of the clearing. “This is an ancient place,” she laughed, “truthfully all of Midgaard is quite ancient, but I believe it is said that this place was here before the castle. In fact, on one of these rune posts it tells of the people who inhabited this region. In the castle's library there is a book, its actually forbidden to students, but I did manage to get my hands on it for a few hours and read some of it.” she smiled wickedly.
Calvin was impressed. This girl knew so much. She was amazing. “so this is where you come to practice?” he asked shyly.
She said, “Practice, get away from the castle and the prying adults and just hang out with friends.” she said.
The others were sitting on a stone bench near the table, waiting for Amanda. None of them were as smart as her and as far as Calvin was concerned they really didn't warrant much of his attention.
Amanda turned to the group and said, “well shall we begin practicing for our exams?”
They all looked at her with varying degrees of glee. Calvin liked to do magic but he hated practicing.
Amanda walked over to one of the rune posts and placed her hand on it. She murmured something in a language he couldn't understand. Soon the post glowed with a reddish light and he felt a chill of power course through him. It made him queasy, yet he felt as if he could do any spell with ease. His wand vibrated with stored power. He could see the others felt the same. He opened his mouth to say something but then Amanda, who still touched the post intoned, “The power of the ancients awaits your command!”
The others looked scared and Calvin couldn't blame them the voice that came from Amanda was definitely not hers. TC Brown pressed up against him and whined pitifully.
Power surged around Amanda crackling and raging like a fire. The others backed away. He knew that they had never seen this before. Amanda's body began to writhe and shake, yet she remained connected to the post. Calvin feared for her and without thinking ran and tackled her. He momentarily felt enveloped in the strange red power. It coursed throughout his body and strange contorted images flash through his mind, and then he found himself sprawled out on the ground panting, TC was there licking his face and whimpering.
Amanda moaned and he rolled over to look at her. Her eyes were closed, but she had a small smile fixed on her lips as if she had just eaten something deliciously sweet. She opened her eyes and fixed a gaze on him that made him shiver. All he knew was that he had found nothing pleasurable in the power that touched him as he knocked her to the ground.
“What happened,” said Amanda as she rose to a sitting position. The others had gathered around her. Another girl, Violet said, “He knocked you to the ground breaking your connection with the ancients!” she pointed accusingly at Calvin.
Amanda turned a hard look on Calvin. “Is that true? Why would you do such a thing?” she asked angrily.
Calvin stammered and looked at the rest of the group in bewilderment. Lamely he said, “I thought you were in pain.”
“I was!” she exclaimed, “The pain of ecstasy, the pain that comes with knowing just how limited we are without the power of the ancients! Never do that again!” she glared at him and he felt incredibly small. The others, who moments before, had been cowering before the raging power coursing through Amanda, looked at him with self righteous indignation. As is they knew all along what was happening.
Her tone softened, and she said, “You are forgiven this time I didn't warn you.” she looked hard at the rest, “but you I did warn, why didn't you hold him back?” she demanded of her little group of followers.
Their sheepish looks of failure made Calvin feel a little better, but some of the glances he got from them told him they wouldn't forget how he made them look foolish. For the first time that day he got a glimmer of insight into what Ginger was trying to say to him, but it only lasted for seconds.
“Come on guys,” Amanda said, including him. “That exhausted me. Let's get back before we are missed or Calvin's little girlfriend comes looking for him.”
Calvin snorted, “she's not my girlfriend!” immediately he felt bad, so he said, “she's just a friend.”
“Whatever,” dismissed Amanda. “We need to get back.”

The next day Amanda and her friends were nowhere to be found, so Calvin went looking for Ginger in all the places they normally hung out. He finally found her in the library, buried deep in a book. He stood next to her for a few minutes before nudging her. “What?” she said, “You're new friends are not coming out to play?”
He sat down next to her. “why don't you like them?”
“Look,” she said, her tone frustrated, “you have been here longer than me and you mean to tell me that you don't know anything about that evil little group you've attached yourself to?”
“All I know is that in any class I have had with Amanda is that she is the smartest one in there. I don't see anything wrong with that.”
“You are a class one dork!” said Ginger, but her tone had become less icy. “For some reason I believe you when you say you are that naive.” Ginger chuckled. “well I do have a piece of advise for you. Stay away from them. They will only get you into trouble or hurt.” she said seriously. TC who had hopped up on the couch with her laid her head in Ginger's lap waiting for ear scratches. Ginger considered TC's lovable face for a moment and then looked up at Calvin. “You need to pay attention to TC more often. Did you not notice her behavior around Amanda and crowd?”
Calvin said, “she's just a dog! What does she know?” as he said that he thought of her behavior and how she had huddled up next to him and whined pitifully while Amanda had that strange power flowing through her. He didn't mention it to Ginger though.
Ginger watched him. She knew he believed her. But he was going to have to get over his stubbornness before he ever admitted it. He avoided her eyes and looked down at the book she had been reading. “whats that?” He asked. The book looked really old.
Ginger looked at him hard. “I asked you what you know about Amanda. Well this is a book she was reading yesterday before she found us. I told you I know something of her and her little band of followers. They are up to no good and what this book talks about, leaves me with no doubt that she is planning to cause problems.”
“Ok fine, then tell me, what do you know about her?”
Ginger had a smug look on her face that irritated Calvin, but she had knowledge and he didn't.
She said, “we don't have time for it now, we have a class. But we'll talk at lunch. C'mon we better go or we'll be late.” she took the book and slipped it into her bag.
Calvin and TC followed Ginger out the door. He felt deep down that she was right but Amanda's face hovered before his minds eye and he wanted to believe she was wrong.

Roughing it
Sierra cursed. She was beyond hurt. She was done with indignant, now she was furious. She hated being out in the woods. On one hand she laughed at herself for being so vulnerable to living outdoors on the other hand she didn't see why she was being forced into this.
It was getting dark, again and she still had not found a decent place to hole up for the night. The forest was huge. Since she went in she had not even begun to find a way out. In fact, she climbed a tree yesterday and saw only a sea of trees. She could no longer see the warrior facilities. It was like it had disappeared.
She whacked at the bushes with her knife. Hopefully she wouldn't need it anytime soon as the blade had been severely dulled from cutting through brush. The light was now so dim she decided that it was pointless to continue. She looked around and realized she was in some type of clearing. In fact there was actually a makeshift fire pit in the center and what appeared to be a pallet of leaves piled and bound for a sleeping mat. She looked close at the fire pit. It didn't look recent and she hoped the previous occupant, unless friendly and handing out food and shelter, didn't come back.
She scoped out the campsite and actually located a couple of caches. One had a bunch of nuts in it and she assumed a rodent placed those, but the other had a bag full of dried meats and hard biscuits. They still looked relatively good. The bag was a oiled leather pouch that had been well sealed. The pouch itself had been resting in a wooden bowl and another sealed pouch held some liquid. When she opened it she realized it was mead. A treasure trove to a weary traveler. She placed these finds near the fire pit and proceeded to look for firewood.
Once she had a merry little blaze going she got out her little cast iron pot and filled it with some precious water. She added a piece of the dried meat and a hard biscuit to the water. If nothing a rough stew would give her a sturdy meal, if as she eyed it, not a very tasty one. At the moment she missed a good greasy cheeseburger from even the worst burger joint she could think of!
While her dubious stew cooked, Sierra inspected the sleeping mat. It was still in decent shape although she did add a few more leaves for padding. Then she sat before the fire and stirred her stew with her precious spoon. As she did so she began to reflect on what brought her to this point of her existence.
Aside from being in Midgaard at all, and totally losing a life she was accustomed to, she had actually been quite happy in the warrior training camp. Not that the training was easy by any means, but she had enjoyed the hard work and found she was making goals. She had even made friends, like golden Bria. She compared her previous life on earth to her life here in Midgaard. She had felt aimless. Her family wanted her to leave New York after her mother died. They worried about her fighting crime, although the last few years she had spent at a desk as an investigative detective. It had been an ok posting, but also too mundane. She had liked being a beat cop but at age 33 she was told by her boss that she needed to come inside and let the younger guys handle the beat. She had fought it until she found out her mother had something to do with it.
Her mom had just been diagnosed with the lung cancer that would eventually kill her. At least the desk position gave her more regular hours and better pay. She was able to help her mother get to the doctor and was able to be with her for those last months of agony as the chemo treatments eventually failed and left her a wasted shell of her former self.
Sierra felt the tears roll down her face. It was over a year and she still missed her mother like she had passed yesterday. She wiped her eyes and reflected on what her life was like now. Oddly she felt her mother was close by and had felt strange sensations like if she turned around she would see her mother walking by or talking with another person. She had wanted to ask Kumu about that but had not yet had the chance. She sighed. Now it looked like even that part of her life was ending.
She stirred the pot of thickening stew and finally decided the bubbling mess was ready. She spooned it out into the wooden bowl she'd found and gingerly tasted it. The dried meat or biscuit must have had some sort of seasoning, because it was not the bland flavor she had expected. In fact it actually had a pleasant taste to it. She ate the stew, feeling satisfied afterwards. She cleaned the bowl and her pot and stowed them back in her pack.
The darkness had fallen over the forest. She could hear the night sounds of the forest denizens, but other than that it was peacefully. She had stoke her fire to a merry blaze which was quite bright in the fire pit and made the rest of the clearing dark. She wasn't worried though. The forest had been peaceful every night she had spent in it. She had only been in it for a week, but had finally come to terms with the fact that she could endure it. She felt her anger and indignation slowly melt away. It was replaced by a longing for company. As much as she had been a solitary person in her previous life, she had come to appreciate the camaraderie that had developed among her fellow students. She hadn't felt that kind of a bond since her days at the academy during police training. Somehow, she felt her bonds here were stronger. The friendships she had made in the academy eventually drifted away as time passed. Here the warriors would complete their training and essentially remain together, or so she thought until she had been exiled.
Which brought her thoughts around to face her reason for being here. So many times in the past week she had allowed her thoughts to touch on the reason for exile and as quickly she had yanked her thoughts away and sent them elsewhere. Tonight however, as she stared into the cheery little blaze, she decided it was time to explore her exile.
She sat herself as Kumu had taught them. A lotus position with her hands relaxed in her lap. At first it had been funny to many of the warriors and they joked about it, but a stern look and a sharp word from Kumu, brought their seriousness back to fore.
He explained several methods of meditation saying that not one more correct than the other and that each individual could use one method better than another. He recommended that they try them all and then choose the one that worked best for them. Sierra's way was to sit quietly, relax her breathing and stare into a flame. Typically a candle, but she found her little fire worked well.
She let her mind drift softly over her life. Images from important moments would focus and then fade. She kept her emotions at bay and let her mind mull over these images. Eventually she began to see a pattern emerge from her thoughts.
She saw herself as she grew up. She was an only child. Her mother had struggled her whole life to raise Sierra. Sierra's father was a vague memory. She remembered a big man in a military uniform. She assumed her memory was from the picture on her mother's nightstand. When she was a toddler they got word that he had gone missing in Vietnam. The military continued to pay benefits as they could not confirm that he had been killed in action. He was slated to return home in September of 1974. He was reported missing in January of 1975. By May the Vietnam war was over and still there had been no word of her father. Sierra was small at the time. She was only three when the war ended. They had gone to Georgia to be with family, but her mother had been stubborn and insisted that she needed to get a job. So she went to New York and found a job in a factory. She worked long hours and demanded much of Sierra. Insisting that she attend school without fail and achieve good marks, also without fail.
She never remarried. In fact, Sierra could never remember seeing her mother with men at all. She had also been extremely strict. Sierra had a curfew, even when she was in college.
After she completed her training at the Academy she moved out on her own and one of her Aunties moved in with her mother. The two took care of each other until her mother died, and then her Auntie went back to Georgia. That left Sierra alone. She felt alone, but she had also grown up loving New York. She could never make herself leave. She wanted adventure, but she had been reluctant to leave the city.
She wanted love and romance but when it happened to her she shied away from it.
That was her pattern. She had dreams. She knew what she wanted but something inside her made her suppress it an push it away.
Sierra dropped out of her meditation. She was panting as if she had just run for miles. Tears streamed from her eyes. She couldn't believe what she had done to herself all of these years. She thought back and yes, instance after instance she saw the conflict. She wanted something, yet she pushed it away.
She wondered, was she doing it again?
She felt raw and exhausted. She knew she would have to deal with her revelation, but how? She didn't know.
The fire had burned low to glowing embers. She decided that she would sleep and continue her journey in the morning.

Lessons to Learn

After Brett's initial introduction to Master Tiloc, he didn't see him again for nearly a month. In the meantime he spent his time trying to accomplish a list that Master Tiloc had given him to do. It was something between a treasure hunt and a “to do” list. There were twenty tasks on the list and what was worse they had to be done in order and he could not ask anyone directly for help. Some of the tasks were confusing and didn't make sense. Some seemed so easy he was afraid he had misinterpreted the task.
All the same, as far as Brett was concerned, it was far better than mucking stalls, although one of the tasks did involve digging around in some muck to find a particular beetle that only lived in muck. He felt like a fool going around and poking in obscure places trying to solve the riddle of an obscure task until one of the experienced gladiators saw him and stopped him.
The Gladiator was Corgan. Brett had seen him fight on several occasions. Corgan was a huge man both tall and built. He could over power an opponent in a matter of seconds. Outside of the ring however, he was one of the quietest and gentlest people he had ever met. In fact, Corgan who was several years older than Brett, made a habit of helping out the new recruits. He told Brett to call on him whenever he needed help. Brett was stuck on task twelve. It just seemed to make no sense to him. It was a riddle and at first seemed obvious, but when the obvious didn't work, then Brett needed more help.
The task said, “Breakfast is always best when you fry and egg and watch it sizzle.” Brett ate several eggs for several days in a row. It did not clear the task from his list. Brett knew he had completed a task and then it would disappear from his list. Corgan had stopped by his billet to see if he wanted to practice with staves, but he found Brett pacing and trying to figure out what the riddle meant. Brett told him he was trying to accomplish the task list and Corgan had laughed loudly.
He said, “it took me a month just to get the first task! But mind you everyone gets a different list with the tasks all different or at least not in the same order. Have you lost yours yet?”
Brett said “NO! I'm terrified to. I just want to get it done and get as far away from scrubbing pots and mucking stalls as I can.”
Corgan laughed again. “Don't worry kid they wouldn't send you back there. At any rate the worst part of losing the list is starting over with a new one.”
Brett almost thought mucking stalls would be more fun than losing his list.
For several days he mulled over his task. Finally, after he could no longer stand it, he stopped. It just wasn't going to do any good to think about it. He needed more information.
Brett's quarters, since he left the ranks of the lowliest kitchen worker had improved dramatically. Before he had to share a room with several other guys and basically all they had was a pallet and if someone didn't take it a flea bitten blanket. A change of clothing was not optional and one meal a day was the fare.
Now he had a room to himself in the gladiators complex. It was actually called the Hall of Fight. He was still a novice and therefore he found himself on an upper floor where it was hot in the summer and cool in the winter. He didn't mind, it was about the same as his dorm room at Princeton. In fact, the furniture wasn't much different either. He had a wardrobe, a bed and a nightstand. For Brett it was paradise compared to being a kitchen boy.
In addition to his task list Brett did have other jobs. He helped groomed the horses and helped the weapons master repair or make new weapons for the gladiators. He loved working in the forge. It was hard demanding work but the fine weapons that resulted from the work was satisfying in a way he never experienced before. Master Tiloc also enjoyed using him for his ability to write, so he did copy a lot of scrolls for the Master. Brett found that ironic since the reason he was here was because of an English paper he was struggling to write.
He had worked hard that day. So hard that he really didn't have much chance to think about task twelve, but as he neared his room and the task loomed over his head, he veered from his path and headed down the gentle slop toward warrior village.
Now the Hall of Fight sat on a plateau above the village. The village itself flanked the Fripan river, which tumbled down the mountains from the west and snaked its way through the vast pine forest to the distant ocean. Boats could be seen moored along he banks of the river for the evening, prepared to embark the next day for other villages along the way. Brett had arrived on one of the Barges from Midgaard village months ago. He remembered that day as a blur. However, one bit of information did stick out in his mind and he remembered one of the traders talking to another traveler about how much information you could get by just quietly sipping an ale at a Pub.
Brett figured he had nothing to lose by trying that piece of advice. He had earned enough coin to warrant a couple of pints of ale or as they called it here, crocks.
He thought his best bet would be to start at one of the dock Pubs. He wandered down to the golden anchor.
The smoke inside the Pub was thick. Men smoking pipes and torches burning in sconces added to the smoke. The fireplace at one end had a large fire blazing in it and something on a spit roasting in it. It didn't look like a pig or any other recognizable animal, except maybe an ostrich, but he had not heard of any ostrich here, so he wasn't sure.
The Pub was crowded with sailors, merchants and wenches. In fact, there were a few warriors and gladiators in there as well. The voices roared with laughter and loud discussions.
Brett pushed his way through the crowd until he reached the bar. He asked for an ale and handed over his money. There were no empty tables to be had so he found a spot near the fireplace where he could lean nonchalantly on the wall and listen to several conversations at once while pretending to study the tapestry on the next wall.
It was the tapestry that eventually drew his attention as the talk at the tables really didn't seem to have any relevance to his task.
He noticed that the scene on the tapestry was of the surrounding area. In fact it showed a view of the village from the vantage of the mountains near Fripan Falls. The mountain had been volcanic at one time and now had filled with the water that supplied the river as it cascaded over the rim of the caldera to another pool below before finally flowing down into the valley and the forest.
Brett was staring at the tapestry as his mind churned along. Something about the angle of the falls and the rising sun, and ... suddenly his train of thought was dashed as a big meaty hand landed on his shoulder. At first he thought someone had wanted his attention when he realized the hand was no longer attached to its owner. He realized that while he was staring at the tapestry a fight had broken out in the Pub. Swords and knives were flashing everywhere. Brett ducked as a crock came flying at his head and smashed on the wall behind him.
Patrons began smashing furniture and throwing things. He decided it was time to leave, so he ducked and crawled and weaved his way through the enraged throng hoping to get out without losing a limb or his head for that matter.
Event hough he had immediately brushed the hand off his shoulder he could still remember the sickening feel of it. He burst out of the Pub and ran around the corner and wretched. All he could think was 'that was a waste of good ale!' he recovered himself enough to leave the docks and head back for his room. As he trudged back up the road to the Hall of Fight, he noticed others doing the same. He wondered briefly what the fight was about, but then turned his mind back to the tapestry.
As he crested the plateau, he stood and in the moonlight looked at Fripan mountain. In the distance he thought he could see the moonlight reflected off the waterfall. In the morning he would question Master Tiloc about it.


Progress

Margo sat on a bench under a giant oak tree near the library. It was a beautiful day. She thought about how her day had been so far and couldn't believe how good of a day she was having. The last week it had rained and rained. Margo had felt soggy and cranky. When she woke this morning it seemed as if the day was going to continue it's relentless rain. She had gathered her stuff in an ill humor and went to the dining hall. She found she wasn't the only one who had allowed the dismal weather to cloud her cheerfulness. Many of the girls wore dour faces and sulked at breakfast. A few catty spats had broken out even between the best of friends. Margo had done herself a favor and ate breakfast at a table by herself, or at least she tried to when another girl she had never seen before sat down. Her entire day had changed with that one simple event.
The girl said in an accented voice, “Hello, I hope you don't mind if I sit here, but every place else is taken.” the girl smiled sweetly like the sun breaking through the dense clouds.
Margo just stared at the girl. She was cute, probably about nineteen years old and had a very light aura about her even though her skin was a deep brown color. Her eyes were greenish gold and sparkled like gems. Her hair a deep rich black was bound in a long thick braid that went past her waist. Her expression was open and friendly. Margo's initial response was to be irritable and unfriendly, but she actually smiled back and said, “sure sit here, I could use some company.” the girl smiled gratefully at Margo.
The girl settled herself and Margo, not sure what to do went back to studying her book and drinking her coffee.
After a few minutes of silence the girl spoke up. “I truly don't mean to disturb you, but I arrived her last night and today is truly my first day here. After breakfast I have been instructed to find Sorceress Melebry. Apparently she will assign me a room and get me started with my course work. Have you been here long?” she looked apologetic, “I have a lot of questions, I will understand if you don't feel like answering them, but possibly you could direct me to someone amenable to answering them?”
Margo was momentarily at a loss. Then she said, “Well, I'm not sure I am the best one to ask questions, I haven't been here long myself, but I will tell you what I have learned so far.” it felt good to Margo to finally have the potential of a friend. So far since she had been there she had alienated herself by being rigid with her studies and then with her temper. Sorceress Ti had not yet invited her back to study and Margo was beginning to feel hopeless. The rainy weather had not helped. She felt like she had been given a second chance when this girl sat down at her table. She did her best to be pleasant and likable.
“First of all, I'm Margo. Like I said, I am fairly new here myself a few months only. I'm afraid I haven't done very well as far as making friends and actually my progress toward unlocking my magic ability has been abysmally slow.” Margo grinned sheepishly.
The girl smiled at her. She said, “Well Margo, I am Reyla. It seems that when I was sacrificed to the gods on my world I did not die but arrived at Midgaard. I have been in Midgaard itself for quite awhile, but I went through a mourning process. I had a difficult time with the language and also understanding what had happened to me. It took some time to come to terms with this reality I found myself in. But that is behind me. I am looking forward to learning magic.”
Margo didn't know what to say. So she asked a question, “so what did you want to know? You said you had many questions.”
Reyla grinned, “I do have many questions, like are the classes difficult? How strict are they, what are the rules?”
Margo laughed, “Oh Wow! Well, most of that stuff Sorceress Melebry will answer for you. As far as hard, I guess it's pretty much up to you how hard the classes are. They do recommend studying with others. Unfortunately for me I haven't done very well in the friend department and study partners tend to be hard to come by. That however, is my own doing.” Margo laughed ruefully.
Reyla smiled at her and again it was like the sun shining and pushing the gloom away. Reyla said, “it is so beautiful and green here, does it ever rain?”
Margo gazed curiously at Reyla and said, “its been raining here for days. Didn't you notice it when you arrived last night?”
“It was a beautiful night when I arrived. The stars were sparkling in crystal clarity and the soft breezes through the trees held the scent of some night blooming flower.” Reyla looked puzzled, “I saw no evidence of rain. Even now the sun shines gloriously through the trees of the garden.” Reyla indicated the large window of the dining hall.
Indeed, as Margo looked out it was a beautiful sunny day. She turned back to Reyla who was gathering her things, “That's great but I swear it was cloudy and overcast this morning.”
Reyla smiled at her, “well now it's a beautiful day. I hope Sorceress Melebry won't keep me inside all day. It was nice to meet you Margo. I hope everyone I meet today is as nice as you have been. Hopefully I will see you later.”
Margo grinned at Reyla, finally she felt like she made a friend. “My room is in the northwest garden complex. Hopefully they will give you a room nearby.”
“That would be great!” said Reyla, “I will see if I can request it.” she waved at Margo and stepped out of the dining hall.
Margo smiled happily. Finally someone who thought she was nice. Margo finished her coffee, gathered her stuff and headed to the main building. Today she had faerie history, which was one of her favorite classes followed by practical magic applications class. That class had always been such a struggle for her and she felt far behind the others.
Now as she sat in the garden reflecting on the day so far, she realized that even her classes had gone far better than usual. She wondered at that. She was alone so she took out the journal Sorceress Ti had given her and started to record the day there. She had written quite a bit in the journal but it seemed like only meaningless drivel issued from her quill.
Today she decided to try something different. She thought about her mood and how it had changed during breakfast. As she wrote she began to realize that she had shifted her thinking. She had stopped being cranky when Reyla sat down and made the effort to be nice. Not that it was difficult, because Reyla had a way about her that made it difficult to stay grumpy. Once Margo was out of her ill mood she had found it easier and easier throughout the day to remain positive. She even relaxed and was able to have fun in her practical class. She even noticed the other students were nicer to her and ... she stopped writing.
Her quill was poised above the journal. At the same moment realization washed over her the picture of sorceress Ti began to materialize. Margo smiled with joy and found herself in the water garden.
Sorceress Ti was clapping and laughing happily, “You're back!” she exclaimed, “I had hoped that you would be back soon.”
Margo felt so warm and welcomed in Ti's presence. Maddie was capering around and barking caught up in Ti's enthusiasm. Margo reached down to pet the happy dog and was rewarded with a lick on the cheek.
“Come,” said Ti, “We have much to do today. You are behind on all of your lessons, but I think now you will catch up very quickly. You were quite impressive in your Practical magic class today.”
Margo grinned. She was eager to get started.
“Now,” started Ti, “You made an important discovery today. Would you like to tell me about it? Or shall I tell you?” Ti had placed a pair of reading glasses on her face, which looked oddly out of place but also seemed to be right.”
Margo said, “I realized that my attitude, my emotions and my demeanor are very powerful. They not only affect me, but those around me. I project these things on other people and yet the effect also hinders or helps me depending on how I use them.” she stopped for a moment to collect her thoughts and bring her realization to a coherent summary. Ti waited patiently. “the effect of my ill emotions truly inhibited my ability to open my ...” she searched for the appropriate word, “gate” she said hesitantly, knowing the word was close yet inadequate to her meaning. “well to open myself and allow my magic to flow. I was suppressing it with negativity. When Reyla showed up this morning I was presented with a choice, to continue on the same path I was on or allow someone else in.” Margo sighed, “I can now see myself clearly and my behavior of late. I feel so much more free now that I have let that go.” she finished softly, her voice a mixture of regret and relief.
Margo looked at Ti, “look how much time I have wasted!”
Ti said, “look not at the time wasted but look with and open heart at the time left. It is important that you learn from your past and move forward to your future, but it is in the present where you actually live. What you do with each moment and how you choose is what defines your past. Your past is the sum of your choices. Use that as a guide so that future choices will be better.”
Ti beckoned Margo to follow. They wound their way down a path next to the waterfall. As they passed the falls Margo saw a cavern behind the falls. It intrigued her, but then she turned her attention back to the path. The path veered off to the right of the falls and led into a small grove of oak trees. The trees had grown in a circle around a hillock. The top of the hillock had been worn smooth. Rune posts stood at the four cardinal directions. Ti led Margo to the center.
“This grove is sacred to all of Midgaard. It is a place of light. It has a opposite that can be found near the Castle. Both are ancient and have been a part of Midgaard since time has been recorded. The power here is immense. Used wisely it will do wonderful things. Used foolishly and the user will never be the same again.” Ti paused and led Margo to the Northern post. “This post represents the world and its balance. It controls the properties of ice and water.” she moved to the Eastern pole, “This post represents people and animal life present on the world. It controls the property of earth.” She moved on to the south post, “This post represents the power of the world, the power that is present in all things. It controls the properties of fire. And last,” she moved toward the western post, “This is the post of the west. It represents hope and fear, evil and good. It controls the property of wind. In your world there is the idea of yin and yang, opposites. Opposing forces create balance. Therefore the other grove near the Castle is the opposite of this grove. We are in the northern region of midgaard, the castle resides in the south. We are light, they are dark. Just like day turns and becomes night neither is evil and neither is good, they are just opposite, but they are the same.”
Margo listened intently to Sorceress Ti. Her words made sense but she knew they would not penetrate until later, so for now she let the words wash through her and bath her in knowledge.
Ti smiled at her, “yes that is right. This kind of knowledge is to be felt and experienced. Consciously dwelling on it will only make it confusing. Allow your power to catch and hold this knowledge, so when the time comes you can wield it.” Ti waited for a bit and let her words sink in then she said, “Now if you notice the posts appear to be plain rock posts with nothing on them. I hear you are doing quite well in your runic studies, so lets put your studies to practical use.”
Ti went back to the Northern post. She had Margo explore the post and look at every inch. Margo saw nothing remarkable about it. She did notice some scorching on the top of the post. She mentioned this to Ti. “Ah yes, the scorching happens when an overzealous student blasts the post with their magic rather than gently caressing it. Even the weakest of magic directed at the post can reveal its mysteries.
You do not need to touch the post to make the runes appear, however it is helpful to do so when you do it for the first time. Now, lightly touch the top of the post with your fingertips, ever so gently coax your magic to manifest and direct to the post. Remember you would not be if it were not possible for you to do this.”
Margo nodded nervously, her magic was there. She could feel it. She was afraid of not being able to control it. She did not want to be one of those that scorches the post.
She placed her fingers on the rough granite of the post. It was cool to the touch. She allowed her magic to travel up and to her fingertips but not yet through them. She eased the gate to her power open slowly, it pushed forward and receded as she swung the gate closed and reopened it. Finally she held still and managed a fine control and the power trickled from her fingertips and into the post. She could hardly concentrate on the post as it transformed before her eyes. She was afraid to break her concentration on the flow of power. She heard Ti in the background urging her to trust her control and look at the post.
She felt as if she were holding on to a rope with two hands and was being asked to let go with one. She used this image in her mind and felt herself maintain control. She was then able to see the remarkable transformation of the post from rough cut stone to a polished granite pillar with ancient runic language carved in it. She recognized the symbols and started puzzling them out.
Before she could go far a power surge blasted the stone and threw her backwards. She landed with a thump on her back side about three feet from the post. Dazed she remained there for a few moments. When she looked up she saw Sorceress Ti looking kindly down at her. “let me help you up,” she said, extending both hands.
Margo took the proffered hands and rose slowly. She knew when she looked she would find a nice black bruise on her rear end where she landed. Ti smiled kindly her eyes twinkling as if she were holding back a belly laugh.
Margo chuckled, “I guess I understand how the scorch marks got there,” she said, humbled by the experience. She went to examine the post. She looked at Ti with amazement, “not only did I scorch it, but I marked it as well!”
Ti nodded solemnly, “It was foretold. Your power is matchless. There have been none before you and none will come after that will wield the power you hold. It is important that you use it wisely. From now on you will come here daily and focus your concentration on the reading of these runes. Once you have gained sufficient control we will move on. You will no longer need me to find this place. It is in the center of the topiary maze just north of the school grounds. I will come to you when you are ready for the next step.”
Ti's original light-heartedness was gone. She had the look of urgency in her eyes. “there are stirrings afoot where your power will be needed. We no longer have the time to study blithely. It is important that you read the runes as quickly as possible.”
Margo looked at her. “I thought the runes were part of the training/learning process, are you telling me they mean something more?”
Ti nodded and looked around quickly, “ I cannot say any more, I have already told you more than you were supposed to know. Go now, follow the path on the other side of the grove. It will take you back to the school.”
Margo said, “But...” however, Ti had already disappeared back into the forest.
She looked again at the post. The runes and the polished post were burned into her mind. As she walked back to the school she puzzled over the first rune again. It was the symbol for balance, but was linked also with the symbol for water and fire. The linking of the runes was significant, but from her class the instructor had said that rune linking had not yet been deciphered and the meanings of those linked words were not known. 'how could they not know' she puzzled. When she saw the rune while she touched the post with her magic, she knew all of it.
'maybe,' she thought, 'that's the key, the magic needs to be powerful enough to allow the magic to decipher the runes for the sorceress.'
She thought about this as she emerged from the topiary garden back onto the school grounds. It was evening and the light was beginning to fail. After all that Margo was hungry so she hurried to the dining hall, hoping not to be too late.


Niches

George was in heaven, or at least a state of heaven. He had always loved books and learning and libraries. Now he lived in one. He had listened to Marie and Hiram one night after the Pub had shut down. They drank ale into the early hours. Both Hiram and Marie gave George every reason why he should not trust Red and why he should not work at the library.
Marie said that the library had too many dark secrets and had turned many good people into cold heartless monsters. Hiram snorted at that and said she was exaggerating.
George sat and listened to their banter for several minutes before saying, “Why do you suppose Red wants me in the library?” he chuckled, “I mean truly what is it about me that would make any difference to anyone here?”
Marie and Hiram stared at him like he had said something completely crazy.
“What?” he said looking at both of them. “You two are looking at me like I should know something obvious!” he sat back, “What!?”
Hiram looked at Marie, “you didn't tell him?”
She shook her head, “I thought you did.”
“What!?” exclaimed George, “all I know since I've come here is that Marie is my long lost sister-in-law and there are pixies in the fountain that clean the water!”
This time it was Marie and Hiram who looked blank. Marie said “Pixies?” and Hiram said, “Sister-in-law?”
George laughed at them. “you two are definitely a pair. Don't you tell each other anything?”
Marie blushed. “Pixies?”
George said, “That light show every night in the fountain, that is the Pixies hard at work cleaning the water supply. They also claim to work rivers lakes and streams.”
Marie looked delighted. “I have watched that fountain light up for years but had no idea it was pixies.”
Hiram said, “and you won't ever see them unless they choose to reveal themselves to you. They revealed themselves to George because they want something from him, just like Red does.” Hiram looked pointedly at George.
They debated for hours, but between the two of them they could never answer what Red's or the Pixies motives were. In the end George told them that he would never know what was at stake unless he jumped right in. He told them at least we wouldn't be going in blind as they had forewarned him.
So when Red came back George accepted his proposal and accepted a position at the library as a researcher. He was assigned to the faerie section as he requested. The lead researcher in the faerie section was quite dour. George attempted humor with him, but the man never cracked even the hint of a smile. Each morning he would give George his assignment and then retire to his office. His name was Elias T Minnis but he preferred to be called Professor Minnis.
This morning however, everything changed. George left his little set of apartments that staff lived which flanked the libraries inner courtyard. He stopped by the kitchen and got a mug of strong coffee (great for the heart he chuckled) and baguette. He'd made friends with the cook there so there was always some tasty Jam to spread on whatever roll he got that day and a piece of cheese or fruit to go with it. As far as George was concerned, if life had to be without Ethel, this is how it should be.
Normally by the time he got to Professor Minnis' office the roll was gone and he had pretty much devoured the fruit or cheese. He would finish the coffee as he read over his assignment.
George stopped by the main lobby to say Good morning to Hiram and then he headed up the two flights of stairs to the faerie level. Even after all these months George was astounded how well he could do the stairs. In fact, he noticed that some of his original hair color was coming back and his skin looked better. He thought his aging may have reversed somewhat but he was ready to ask yet.
As George made the second level he spied two other researchers Ingdoc and Bregelia. They were speaking with someone else he had never seen before. The other two did magic research. One specialized in ancient runes and the other in spells. George didn't interrupt them they looked busy talking to a women he had never seen before. He passed by them. They were so engrossed in their conversation they didn't see him pass but he heard a snippet of their conversation.
Ingdoc, a tall undead looking creature from a world other than earth was saying in his wispy voice, “Tiarna, are you sure she is the one? How could you know, you can't even read the stones yourself!”
The woman Tiarna defended herself, “I know she is the one, she already deciphered the Northern post and is well into the Eastern post. Once she completes them all the posts will solidify into this world and ...”
George heard no more, a commotion had broken out in the foyer before Professor Minnis' office. Daria, Professor Minnis assistant came running out of the office screaming “They took him! He's gone, it was awful they almost got me!” she wailed before falling in a trembling heap before George and the other three. Bregelia, who was a good friend of Daria's kneeled down to comfort her.
George and Ingdoc looked at each other and cautiously moved through the foyer to Darias office. Nothing was amiss in Daria's office other than the papers she had dropped running from the open door of Professor Minnis' office. Although George noticed one tapestry fluttering as if it had just been disturbed. He pointed that out to Ingdoc who nodded indicating he noticed it too.
They cautiously peered into Professor Minnis's office. It looked as if a cyclone had whipped through it. Furniture, pottery, and any other breakable item was smashed to bits. The tapestries that hung on the walls were shredded as if the cyclone had teeth or claws. Debris littered the room. The curious thing was that only one window had any damage. George went to inspect the window.
Now the windows in professor Minnis' office went all the way to the ceiling which was at least fifteen feet high. There were a set of four of these windows all multi paned. The individual panes were approximately one square foot each. The window on the far left was missing one pane. The odd thing was that it opened to deep blackness where as the windows themselves showed the early morning sun rising above the forest.
George was about to put his hand up to touch the window when Ingdoc stopped him. “Don't touch that, its a portal remnant. It can do one of two things, either suck you in and transport you to where it was opened from or it will just cut off whatever you stick in there and shred it to nothingness.” indicating the room he said, “my guess is that this one shreds.”
Tiarna had followed them into the office. She looked around in awe, then she said, “We need to find Red. The abductions have begun.”
Ingdoc looked at her sharply and then indicated George with his eyes. George pretended not to notice the exchange by poking through the rubble.
Bregelia entered the room with Daria and said, “Red has been summoned.” she looked warily at the dark pane and said, “we shouldn't stay in here in case who ever started that comes back.”
Tiarna agreed and started toward the door with Bregelia. Daria whimpered and then started screaming again. They all looked to see what she was screaming about.
A tapestry that had been hanging by a thread had fluttered to the ground revealing a message crudely carved into the stone wall. It said, “Souls of Midgaard, your existence is coming to a end!”
Tiarna hissed, Bregelia frowned and Daria just kept screaming. Ingdoc ushered all of them back out to the foyer closing both the professors door and the door to Darias office.
Bregelia took Daria away to calm her down. Ingdoc left to alert the rest of the library and to see if there had been any other attacks, which left George and Tiarna standing in an uncomfortable silence.
George broke the silence by introducing himself, “Hello,” he said, “I know this isn't the best of circumstances to meet someone but it will have to do. My name is George Brew. I'm new here to the library and have only worked under Professor Minnis a short time.”
George held out his hand as was customary on his world.
Tiarna looked at it puzzled and said, “Greetings Mr Brew, I am the Sorceress Tiarna dar Laybran. I teach practical magic to young sorceresses.” she smiled politely indicating that she really wasn't in a mood to talk.
George sighed. Ingdoc had told him to stay there and watch the doors, He was sure Tiarna was waiting for Red to show up. The uncomfortable silence stretched until George couldn't stand it any longer so he started whistling. The sound echoed in the cast hall of the library, which seemed to make Tiarna nervous, so he stopped. He paced about. He looked out windows he sat down on a bench, he was restless. All the while Tiarna sat on a bench and just waited.
Finally he couldn't stand it any longer, he turned to her and said, “this is crazy, do you know what happened in there? I feel like I am the only one who doesn't understand.”
Tiarna looked at him sadly, “yes I do know what happened, but I'm afraid I can't be the one to explain it to you. It is up to Red to decide who should be told.”
“Ok well then can you tell me something else, like what you know of Midgaard?” he needed to do something, “I mean just sitting here waiting is wearing on me!”
Finally, she smiled. In fact, Tiarna actually laughed and George laughed with her. She said, “Very well, I will share the lore of Midgaard as I know it. Midgaard has always been, it was here when the first people came and colonized it. The Great Lord, the one whom your people call God or Allah, created all the other worlds while standing on this one. There is a Holy Grove just outside of Midgaard Village where the Great Lord stood to do his work and the first of the rune stones were placed there by the ancients. It is believed that the rune groves were used for communication among the various groups that originally inhabited Midgaard. We believe that people, come to Midgaard from all worlds for specific reasons, but mainly because their lives are over on their worlds, but they are not done with life yet.”
George nodded, “Like me, that is how I came here.”
Tiarna smiled, “exactly, however the system is slowing eroding and it doesn't work the same way anymore. People are being sent here purposely to learn the secrets of Midgaard and then return to their home worlds. At first it was thought to be an anomaly, and then as it continued there seemed to be a consciousness directing it. Only in the last thousand years has it been determined that it truly is a plan and not by the Great Lord, but his nemesis Rahvidia. She feels that if she destroys Midgaard then the seat of power of the Great Lord will also be destroyed or at least diminished.”
George said, “but if Midgaard has always been as the Great Lord has always been, how can it be destroyed?”
Tiarna shrugged, “That is a question for those who understand the lore of Midgaard better than I. It doesn't seem possible that the Great Lord or Midgaard could not exist and indeed I believe that all that would happen would be the creations of the Great Lord will fall and he will be left with a barren and empty Midgaard. Rahvidia is also his creation. He created her as his companion, but she grew jealous of his other creations. She left and has done nothing but cause trouble ever since.”
They sat quietly, this time in a comfortable silence as George mulled over this bit of lore. He was about to ask Tiarna another question, when Red, Ingdoc and several others strode into the hall.
“Good morning George,” said Red, “I see you have had a rough start to your day. Go down and see Hiram, he will place you elsewhere for the day.” Red turned to Tiarna, obviously dismissing George. George nodded to the group and made his way down to the main lobby, but not before he heard Red say, “Good morning Tiarna, I hear you have news of a new sorceress who can read the rune posts.”
By then George was too far away to hear Tiarnas reply.
Hiram looked more harried than usual. “Oh George, I'm glad your here. I need you to go to the fountain and call the Pixie King. We need to know what he knows. We need to know if any in the faerie realm are missing.” Hiram looked worried.
“Hiram,” said George, “can you tell me what is going on?”
Hiram said, “I really don't have the time to explain it all but basically there is a prophecy that says Rahvidia will steal key souls for her army. It seems her declaration of war on the great lord has begun. These are dark times for Midgaard. Now please find the Pixie King, and then can you stop by the Copper Cauldron and let Marie know what is happening?”
“Sure,” said George. “On my way.”
George had a queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. The coffee he drank that morning suddenly sloshed like poison in his stomach. The joy he felt at being in Midgaard seemed about to evaporate with Midgaard itself. George felt sad, then angry. As he strode to the fountain he resolved to do whatever he could to preserve Midgaard and its way of life. He had no idea how far events were going to push his resolve, if he did he may have quailed before making that resolve.
He arrived at the fountain. It splashed merrily as if nothing dire had happened that morning. He looked closely but he did not see the pixies anywhere. Feeling somewhat ridiculous, he looked around to see if anyone was about and then called out, “King Shi-ho-su, are you near? Midgaard requests an audience with you.” hastily he added, “It's me George Brew, I met you several weeks ago.”
George waited for a few minutes, but the fountain continued to splash without a change. George was at a loss. He looked around the fountain to see if he could find something. He searched every inch of the fountain. It took him nearly an hour, but he could find nothing that would give him a clue to calling the fairies. He tried calling out again. Still no response. He walked around the fountain trying to think of anything when a small little hammer lying on the rim of the fountain caught his eye. It was smaller than a finishing nail that is used in finish work. George had a hard time picking it up with his large fingers. A bit further was a small bell about the size and thickness of a dime. George looked at the hammer and bell.
He was dubious, but at this point he was willing to try anything. He held the bell by a small chain and struck it with the miniature hammer. At first he heard nothing and then slowly a vibration reverberated up his arm and then he heard the gonging of a large bell. He was shocked.
He was still gaping at the bell when a blurry and tired looking King Shi-ho-su emerged from the fountain.
“Greetings, new comer George Brew,” said the weary looking king. “What need of the Pixies have you?” The king alighted on the edge of the fountain.
George kneeled down so he would not tower over the pixie king. “Dire things are happening to Midgaard,” said George. “I have a message from the library and a question.”
“The message first,” Commanded the King.
“There have been several disappearances in the library and Midgaard. It is thought they are related to the Prophecy of Rahvidia.” George relayed the message from Hiram.
“Aye,” said the king thoughtfully, “and the question?”
“Have there been disappearances from the faerie realm as well? Red of Midgaard requests this information.” George relayed this exactly as Hiram told him too.
The pixie king sat thoughtfully for a moment and then said, “I have not yet slept. When you rang I was investigating several disappearances of my Kingdom. These are dire tidings you bring. Please send word to Red that I too believe the prophecy is in effect and efforts to thwart Rahvidia are of the utmost urgency. Tell Red I will meet with him and the other Midgaard leaders this evening as the sun sets. We will meet here as my range from the fountain is not great.”
George bowed to the diminutive king. King Shi-ho-su took his leave and dived back into the depths of the fountain. A moment later the bell and hammer disappeared from Georges hand.
George hurried on to the Copper Cauldron feeling like he was behind schedule. When he arrived at the Inn, it was deserted. George could immediately tell that all life had gone from the place. The only thing out of place however was the tapestry of Ethel. It had been torn to shreds. A stain on the wall said “Leave Now!”
George searched the place knowing in his heart he wouldn't find Marie. He went to her apartment behind the kitchens and found the same cyclonic mess that had disturbed Minnis' office. There was no portal in the window, just a broken pane with the morning breeze blowing in.
As he turned to leave he found a coin lying among the rubble. Odd he thought. It was a quarter from his own world. He pocketed it and headed back to the library to report his news.


True Friends

Calvin sulked. He sat on the chair and waited for Ginger to stop talking. What was worse was that she made sense and he felt stupid. For weeks now she had been trying to tell him that Amanda and her friends were nothing but trouble. Amanda had been so nice to him he had argued.
“Nice!” snorted Ginger, “obviously you don't know nice, even when it bites you on the leg.” she was referring to TC Brown nipping at his ankles, trying to urge him not to go to the oak clearing. TC obviously didn't like the place and after the first time refused to go again, but he ignored her and went. She was such a faithful dog that she waited by the gate for him to return. This last time she must have sensed that something very wrong was going to happen because she nipped at him. She stood in his way and barked at him and one time she even tried to menace him with a wicked sounding growl. For a moment he almost thought she was rabid.
Calvin was sulking because Ginger had been right and now she was letting him know it. He was also enduring her rant because he knew he deserved it. After the first time Ginger had shown him the book Amanda was reading. It was the book of runic powers. It talked about Midgaards five oak groves, with the rune posts. It said that only the most powerful of sorceresses and mages could channel the posts and decipher the runes. That hadn't happened since the ancients walked Midgaard. Amanda fancied herself one that would be able to read the runes. According to Ginger, it was apparent Amanda had read the whole book. There was a passage warning that an unguided attempt to read the runes would not only be unsuccessful but it would open a gaping hole in the prison of Rahvidia and allow her and her minions back into Midgaard. Rahvidia meant nothing to Calvin. He didn't know who that was.
Ginger threatened to beat him over the head with the book until he understood that Amanda was up to no good and could cause terrible consequences. However, when he asked her who Rahvidia was she had shrugged. She had never hear of her either.
Even after Ginger had given he all this information he still followed Amanda to the grove. He could still feel the power that had infused him that first time when he broke Amanda's connection with the post. Amanda had tried the northern post first. Next she had tried the Eastern post and said that the energy was different, quite possible weaker than the North post had been. The last time she went to the west post.
Each time, Calvin went back to Ginger to report what had happened. She was clearly upset, but she did try to help him understand what was happening in the grove with the posts. She also noted that Amanda was changing, she looked older and not in a good way, she was starting to look used up. Like the power continued to drain her even after the connection was broken. That worried Calvin. That was what Ginger had been ranting about for the past hour.
Then he and Ginger had found passage in the rune book telling of the properties of the posts. It cited that one of the cardinal posts was affixed by region and was the strongest post. The order in which the runic reader was to progress was to start with the regional post and work around to its opposite. They were in the southern region of Midgaard. Amanda hadn't tried the Southern post yet.
Amanda had not made it to classes that day. Yesterdays turn with the Western rune had made her extremely tired. Reluctantly Ginger had gone with him to see if Amanda was ok. They had to warn her as to what would happen when she touched the most powerful of all posts. They had to stop her.
Violet opened the door to Amanda's room and peeked out. She saw Calvin and smiled weakly. Violet was only strong when Amanda stood strong with her. Now she was relieved to see Calvin. Indeed Calvin had stood up to Amanda and had gained some respect with Amandas followers. Violet saw Ginger and frowned. “What's she doing here?” she asked Calvin.
Calvin looked hard at Violet, “Nevermind. We came to see how Amanda is doing and warn her not to go back to the grove.” As he said this he felt a violent tugging at his power to head immediately for the grove. It made him gasp.
Both Violet and Ginger looked at him with concern, but it was Ginger who said, “Calvin, are you alright?”
He looked at Ginger with the fear and addict has when faced with his addiction, once he thought he had given it up. “I don't know, I just felt a strange pull on my power, like something else was using it to get my attention.”
Ginger said, “I thought you said you hadn't touched any of the posts.”
“I didn't,” he said, “But I did touch Amanda briefly while she touch the post.”
“That's right!” exclaimed Ginger, “you must have some residual effect on you.” she looked at the wan figure of Amanda sleeping on the bed. “It must be even worse for her.” she almost sounded sympathetic. “we have to convince her not to try the last post.” said Ginger.
Violet looked at Ginger with a mixture of hope and disdain. “No one can change Amanda's mind once she decides to do something,” she said vehemently. “Amanda is extremely powerful. More now that she has been connecting with the runes.” Violet had fear in her eyes, but a strange determination in her face. She moved closer to Amanda as if to protect her.
“How long have you known her?” asked Ginger.
Violets eyes narrowed in suspicion, “Why?” she asked.
“I just want to know how well you know her? That's all,” Ginger said in a matter of fact voice.
Calvin added, “Violet its important we know, we are here to help her. I'm,” he looked at Ginger and saw the scowl on her face, “ok, we're worried that if she touches the southern post she will not only harm herself but Midgaard as well.”
“What!” hissed Violet, “That's absurd! You need to leave now.” she stood up and started pushing Calvin and Ginger to the door.
“Wait!” exclaimed Ginger, “I have proof.”
Violet had opened the door and was waiting for them to exit. “what proof could you possibly have?” she sneered.
Ginger pulled the old tattered rune book out of her bag.
“How did you get that?” hissed Violet, “It's from the forbidden section.”
Ginger rolled her eyes, “Not that it's really your concern, but it's only forbidden unless your major course of study is the runic mysteries. Then you are provided with your own copy.”
Calvin looked at Ginger with surprise. When he thought about it, he never really had asked her what her major study course was. She was always helping him and asking him questions, he never once thought to ask her!
Violet nodded. Like Amanda they had both been there long before either of them. Violet stepped out and shut the door. “Ok so explain then,” she said with a half-hearted attempt at superiority.
“Look,” said Ginger and she pointed to the passage in the book regarding the cardinal posts and their significances. “each post represents a region in Midgaard. However, the strongest or ruling post if you will, is the one in the region it is set. We are in the Southern Region, which makes the Southern post the strongest. To use the rune posts properly as they were intended, several conditions must be met, the first of which the runic reader must possess ample power.” Ginger took a breath and went on, “secondly the reader must have proper guidance when learning to read the runes. And third there is an order in which the runes must be read.”
Violet nodded as this information sank in. Then she said, “Amanda read the same book. So she must know what she is doing.”
Ginger looked at her with disbelief. Calvin shook his head.
Calvin said, “If she had truly studied the book, then she would have started with the southern post.”
Suddenly behind the closed door came and awful screeching noise as if someone was tearing a hole in a giant tin can. Then the sound of rushing wind filled the air and the building shook. The closed door rattled crazily. Violet scrambled to try to open the door, while TC, who had layed quietly at Calvins feet, began to howl.
Calvin and Ginger tried to help Violet open the door. One last screeching bang flung the door outward against it's hinges, knocking all three to the ground.
They lay there dazed and stunned.
Calvin struggled up rubbing his head where it had bounced off the ground. Violet and Ginger were getting to their feet as well. TC Brown had backed away and watched the whole event from a safe distance. She stalked back her hackles raised and teeth bared. A low guttural growl issue from her chest. The only other time Calvin had seen TC act like that was when a bigger kid had threatened him when he lived on Earth. That seemed like a dream now.
All three took TC's attitude as a warning and cautiously approached the door. Before they could look inside, several magisters appeared and blocked the room. Indeed, before they knew it a whole crowd of people had shown up to see what had caused the commotion. Head Master Bikla strode back out of Amanda's room. His face, which was normally open and inviting was set in a dark scowl. It made him look fearsome and dangerous.
Calve, Ginger and Violet all stood together in a fearful knot, wondering what they did and how much trouble they were in.
Kindly Professor Engram came over and took charge of the three. He ushered them out of the students quarters and over to the dining hall, which at this time of the day was deserted.
He had a kitchen worker get some tea and biscuits. When they were all settled and comfortable he began to question them.
Professor Engram said casually, “Magic is a tool not to be used lightly. There are many variables that can affect the outcome of any spell, potion or curse. That is why in our classes we insist that first you never ever do magic alone, secondly when doing magic make sure you have someone who can help guide your judgment and then be able to evaluate in a safe situation what has happened and then in the case of accidental magic use an adult must always be notified.” he cleared his throat and then continued. He looked pointedly at each one, “Now I know the three of you have been involved in unauthorized use of magic,” he held up his hand when Ginger tried to protest, “Young Lady, did you inform a magister of magic use that you knew to be happening?” when Ginger shut her mouth and scowled he continued, “exactly. Now, I do know that Amanda was pushing the two of you,” he indicated Violet and Calvin, “but you both are truly at the age where you can say no.” he scolded.
He paused and let his words sink in.
“Now” he began, “We have an issue of a young student missing and indeed some of our teachers are missing as well, in the same manner. Midgaardians are being taken and all in the same manner, through a destructive portal. Up until now, no one has even been nearby when it has happened. You three are the nearest we have to witnesses.”
Violet looked surprised, “missing? You mean Amanda is still alive after what we heard?”
It was professor Engrams turn to look uncomfortable, “We aren't sure. However, we are suspecting abduction rather than death.” he turned the conversation back in the direction he wanted it to go. “Now if you could describe for me what you heard and saw, it could help up locate those who have been taken.”
Calvin spoke up for the first time, “who or what would have taken her? Or any of them for that matter.”
Professor Engram was starting to lose his patience, “Look,” he said sharply, taking them all aback, “I need you to answer my questions, time is short, we believe a dire prophecy is in motion and we need to act quickly. I am here to gather information about what you heard and saw.”
All three were startled by the Professors tone. Normally he was a quiet likable man, who never raised his voice or got irritated, even when the students were rowdy. He was one of the teachers that students went to when they had problems. They all looked at each other, bewildered.
Finally, Ginger spoke for all three of them. “Truthfully,” she said, “we saw nothing as the door was closed. We heard a lot of noise like a storm in the room and then as we tried to open the door it blew off it's hinges and knocked us all down. Before we could even peek in the room, we were surrounded by mages and you whisked us here.”
Both Violet and Calvin nodded and agreed with Ginger. They all felt something was not entirely right with professor Engram, so the less said was probably better.
Violet and Calvin gave similar statements. Finally other students began arriving for dinner. He let them go. None of them were very hungry and decided to go back to Gingers room and discuss the days events.
Violet was quiet and sullen. It seemed all her other friends, the others who hung around Amanda, wouldn't even really talk to her. It was Amanda they followed, not Violet.
Ginger felt sorry for her, and so did Calvin. He was glad he had a friend like her, although it was annoying that TC Brown seemed to like hanging around Ginger more than him. Ginger said it was because she was a girl and girls always stuck together!
Once they were seated in Gingers room Violet started to talk. She said, “You know Amanda wasn't as bad as you thought.” she looked at Ginger. “Oh she was selfish and demanding and quite brilliant, but she had to have people around her or she would have fits of severe depression.”
“Why would you want to spend time with someone that needy?” asked Ginger.
“She was, is my half - sister.” said Violet as if it were common knowledge.
“did anyone else know this?” asked Calvin surprised.
Violet thought for a moment, “No I don't think so. We never told anyone because Amanda's parents are very wealthy and powerful people here in Midgaard. We only knew because my mother told us. My mother is a witch that lives in the Wild Wood just outside Midgaard village. She wanted a baby so she entrapped the first man that came down the road. Amanda's father. He has no recollection of the event. All he knows is that he lost a day and found himself further down the road from the last place he remembered being. His escort party baffled and confused for having lost him for a day. As it was the forest road was closed for many years because of it.” Violet chuckled at that.
“anyways, my mother told me about my father so that I would not wander the world ignorant. Once I came here I was interested in learning if I had an siblings and sure enough, there was Amanda. She didn't believe it at first, but then she found a potion that would verify my mothers claims. She was extremely angry at first but when she saw that my mother had no intentions of destroying her family she relented in her anger. She and I became close, like sisters should.”
Ginger sighed, “I wouldn't know, I have only brothers.”
Calvin chuckled, “I wouldn't know either, I'm an only child.” at that both he and Ginger felt a pang of loss for their own families. Ginger quickly recovered and asked Violet, “so what is it like to grow up on Midgaard?”
Violet shrugged, “I don't really know how to answer that. I don't know anything other than Midgaard. I mean I have studied and have learned about other worlds, including yours but, I have never been anywhere else.”
Silence ensued for a few minutes while each was lost in their own thoughts. Then Violet broke the silence. “That book you have, the rune book, may I see it?”
Ginger said, “Sure, but remember the book only responds to someone trained in runic divination.”
Violet nodded and said, “Well as my upbringing was as a witch by a witch I am thinking that what my mother taught me of runes should be sufficient to decipher what the book says.”
Ginger nodded, “that makes sense. Hopefully you can puzzle out more than me then because I have only been at it for a few months. Definitely not long enough to be considered an expert!”
Calvin sat quietly while the girls poured over the book. He'd had absolutely no training in runes. His education had been to learn spells, alchemy and fighting with things likes staves and crossbows. He scratched TC behind the ears and slowly, after the excitement of the day he dozed off.

Calvin was screaming to Ginger “Don't touch that post it will burn you!” but she kept walking towards it anyways, she turned to look back at him and it was Amanda her face horribly disfigured like she had been ripped apart and put back together, he was trying to run to her, but something was holding him back. She kept walking for the post where a gargolye bathed in eerie light was laughing cruelly...
“CALVIN WAKE UP!” shouted Ginger.
Calvin's eyes flew open. He sat up and looked around in confusion. TC was lying on the floor looking at him as if he had gone crazy.
“Sheesh!” said Ginger in an exasperated tone. Violet was laughing. “leave you alone for five minutes and you fall asleep!” then she joined Violet in laughter as the bewildered Calvin looked around for the wretched looking Amanda and the evil gargoyle.
He rubbed his eyes and said, “Wow how long did I sleep?”
Ginger stopped laughing and said, “probably about twenty minutes. Long enough to act like you were having convulsions. TC tried to wake you by sitting on you, but you kept thrashing.”
“Wow!” he said, “I just had the ugliest dream.” he relayed the dream to them.
Violet and Ginger exchanged worried glances.
“What?” He said.
“Maybe you weren't dreaming, said Violet. “I mean you were but in your dream state maybe Amanda was calling out to you.” when he looked blank she explained, “We were just reading a passage in the rune book that described something similar to what you dreamt. Apparently, those who have had contact with the rune posts can communicate with others who have had similar contact. They can communicate via telepathy or in dreams. Perhaps Amanda is trying to tell us where she is.”
Ginger said, “Let me find my book on divination and dreams. Maybe we can find some answers there.”
Violet laughed, “you have a class on divination too?”
Ginger nodded, “yea, apparently I don't possess a whole lot of magical power, so I am suited to a research and assistant role. She looked at Calvin, he on the other hand has very strong magic, but no control yet. It seems he and I are no good without each other.” she laughed, but it was a laugh of happiness.
Violet smiled sadly, “Amanda and I could be said to share those roles. She is the stronger of us, but I wield the knowledge, simply because I was taught from the cradle.”
Ginger felt bad for Violet, “We'll find her.” she said.
Calvin nodded, “We will, no matter what.”
Violet smiled through tears, “Thanks guys.” was all she could manage.


Interruptions

Brett rolled out of bed when he realized the banging sound wasn't from the fight going on in his dream. Someone was trying to knock down his door. As he came more awake he was able to distinguish the sound of frantic knocking from actual door smashing.
He opened the door and was nearly leveled by Corgan.
“It is about time you answered the door I was ready to break in and haul your ass out of bed!” groused Corgan. “Come on!” He urged, “we need to go now, the whole village is in an uproar over the disappearances!”
Bretts mind still hungering for more sleep produced a confused “What?”
“Man are you thick when you wake up? You need to learn how to be alert when you rise.” Corgan shook his head in disgust. He started gathering Bretts things and stuffing them in a sack tossing bits of clothing at him to wear. Hurry get dressed, as we go I will explain the events of last night to you.
Brett, stumbled about putting on his clothes and boots. He noticed Corgan did a fairly efficient job of packing for him. He grabbed his robe threw his rucksack on his back and grabbed his bow and strapped on his sword. The last thing he grabbed was his ball cap, He just couldn't let his team go after all these months.
Corgan shook his head in disgust and said, “Why hang on to the Lakers, they suck!”
Brett was stunned, “You know about the Lakers?”
Corgan winked at him, “you think your the first sports fan to ever arrive unexpectedly in Midgaard? I came from Boston, long before you were born sonny!” Corgan laughed heartily. Turning serious he said, “Come on, we have to go, big things stirring here.” and with that he stalked out the door.
Brett, still stunned from the rude awakening and the revelation that Corgan too had come from not only his world, but the same country, astounded him.
He stumbled out the door and followed after Corgan toward the Gladiator complex. As they walked, Corgan filled him in on last nights events.
“Apparently when all were asleep, several Village residents were abducted. In fact, I was afraid I would find you missing from your quarters! As it is we don't yet know who all is missing. They want us to meet in the arena so we can hear more details and they will tell us what is to happen next.”
Brett was alarmed, “What does Master Tiloc think of this?”
Corgan stopped abruptly and looked at Brett, “Masters Tiloc and Kumu were both abducted last night.”
Brett was shocked. He could not imagine either Master going without a fight. Numbed he continued to follow Corgan to the arena. Crowds of others were doing the same. Corgan greeted several people as they went.
Brett could not believe how many people there were in Warrior Village, the arena was already packed when they got there. Corgan pushed his way down towards the front of the crowd, Brett following in his wake. People didn't grumble much because it was Corgan and he was one of their champions, but Brett got a few curses as he pushed by. He was glad Corgan was his friend.
As they waited Brett heard a few conversations going on around him. Corgan was talking to another Gladiator champion named Burc. Burc looked more like a great bear than a man. He was taller than Corgan and hairy. Definitely not one to attract the ladies, but definitely one you wanted on your side in a fight. Burc could wade into a battle swinging his spiked mace and wind up surrounded by piles of corpses. When he is in full battle frenzy it is best to keep your distance. Burc however, on a normal day was one of the nicest people around.
On Bretts other side he spotted a couple of kitchen workers that he knew. He knew they wouldn't be able to talk to them so he edged a bit closer and listened to their conversation while pretending to look around.
“Did ya hear that we a missing a couple of kitchen staff?” said Mikka. She was a plump lady who had been in the kitchen for as long as most residents could remember. It was rumored that when Cook retired she would take his place.
The girl she was talking to was her niece Della. Della said, “Oh aye, I did hear. We lost two servers and one of the scullers.”
Bretts ears perked up, he had been a sculler and wondered who was missing.
Mikka said, “I don't miss the sculler, she was worthless any ways. After that cute young man moved up in ranks and went to the gladiator school she has been impossible. In all my years I never saw Cook once lay a hand on anyone, but this little wench seemed to beg for a beating.”
Brett knew they had to be talking about Fortuna. He was surprised that she had been abducted. He was equally surprised that whoever had taken her hadn't tossed her back yet.
The kitchen workers had moved away and Brett noticed that the Masters had gathered in the center of the arena. Corgan nudged him to pay attention when old Master Kich ascended the hastily raised dais. He was assisted by a young gladiator as he moved to the podium. He leaned heavily on his intricately carved cane and rested a moment before speaking. A magister cast a spell of amplification on him so that his voice would carry over the crowd.
“Citizens of Warrior Village and indeed, Midgaard” his old voice warbled at first but seemed to gather strength as he continued. “I stand before you this morning to tell you grave tidings that have passed this last night.” All throughout Midgaard, many citizens have been abducted. Their manner of abduction has been identical. Those who have been taken have been taken with a cyclonic force. This particular spell, the magisters have informed me, is the signature spell of Rahvidia.”
The crowd let out a collective gasp and other noises of concern. A strained hush fell over the crowd as the Master continued.
“Yes my friends, it appears the prophecy of Rahvidias return has begun. At this time it will be up to our leaders in Midgaard Village to form a plan as to what our role in defending Midgaard will be, however, the mages here at Warrior Village have begun spells of protection over the village itself. On a personal level, it is best to not find yourself alone. We will be reassigning quarters so that not will spend their nights alone. If you must leave the viallge for any reason please let a magister know that the appropriate spells of protection can be used on you. Family's living outside the village will need to move into the village or stay on their farms at their own risk. We don't know how many more Rahvidia will take, but we can use precautions.”
Until we know more we ask that you conduct your lives in a normal manner, but make sure you are prepared for the unexpected.
Someone in the crowd hollered out, “What of the Forrest of the Forgotten?”
The master looked around and then said, “we have had no word from the forest. It is assumed that those there will fend for themselves as they always have.” A murmur went out from the crowd. Another person cried out, “Is it not true that those sent to the forest can be called back.”
The Master threw a warning glance at the crowd, yet said, “It is true, they can be called back, however, as we do not send exiles to the forest lightly, we feel that based on earlier judgments to send various individuals to the forest, we will not be calling any back.”
Brett went cold. He wondered how Sierra fared in the forest. He fingered the quarter in his pocket and wondered if he would ever see her again.
Corgan clapped a hand around his arm, “C'mon we have stuff to do.”
Burc grunted in assent.
Corgan said, “did you ever figure out that task? Cuz if you didn't we are going to have trouble getting you through the rest of them.”
Startled Brett said, “actually I think I did but, it's going to require a trip to Fripan Falls.”
Corgan said, “Good then lets get started, its a good days ride from here. Burc will go with us.”
Burc grunted again.
Brett followed Corgan and Burc through the warren that was the Gladiator complex. They came to a small courtyard with doors leading to various places. Corgan strode across the courtyard and into a door marked, Hall of the Masters. It was a dimly lit corridor with a window at the far end. Corgan walked about halfway down the corridor and knocked on a plain wooden door. Brett had never been here before and noticed that it smelled slightly musty, like mushrooms.
Burc scowled. He growled, “Don't like this place, smells bad.”
Brett nodded in agreement.
Corgan said, “shhh. We're here to see Master Blin. She is the one who will give us permission to take a side journey to Fripan falls to get our boy Brett here up to speed.”
Brett wondered why is was so important suddenly that he finish his task list. He would wonder that again over the next several days.
The door opened and a small shriveled woman in a warriors robe opened the door. She moved with a speed and agility that Brett would never have expected in one as frail looking as her.
Her face a mass of creases seemed dour and cruel, but when she saw Burc and Corgan she smiled with delight. “Ah my two favorite young men.” She reached up and pinched Burc on his hairy cheek. Through all of his hair, Brett thought he saw Burc blush.
Brett stifled a laugh by coughing into his hand.
Master Blin sat on a tall stool by her desk. The office was very neat and tidy and quite sparse in its furnishings. She indicated they should sit on the mats provided on the floor.
She had totally ignored Brett as if he were invisible or quite possibly no more important that a scrap of paper that blew in. He sat between Corgan and Burc and waited in silence to see what would happen.
Brett noticed that the stale mushroom smell did not creep into Master Blins office. In fact it smelled of incense and something else that was familiar, a green smell, but he couldn't place it at the moment.
Master Blin looked hard at Corgan. “If you are here to speak of the events of last night, I'm afraid I can't help you.”
Corgan chuckled, “We are here, yes, because of last nights events, but not to speak of them, but because we have a need to help young Brett here finish his tasks so that he may be ready when it is time to help defend Midgaard against Rahvidia.”
For the first time Master Blin turned her gaze on Brett. He felt her eyes pierce him like a spear and turn him inside out. Suddenly she snapped her gaze away from him and turned to Corgan in surprise. “When did he arrive here?”
Corgan said softly, “It will be a Midgaardian year, tomorrow Master.”
Blin stood up and walked over to Brett, she placed a wrinkled hand on his head and roughly grabbed a handful of hair. She tilted his head back so that he would have to look up at her. She placed her other hand on his neck and held it there for a moment. Her eyes closed and she murmured something unintelligible. Suddenly Brett felt a sharp hot pain in his neck. He couldn't move away as she had his head in an ironclad grip. The pain grew so intense it ripped a scream from his chest. And then it stopped.
She released her grip on his head, and he sat, head drooped and panting. He had the urge to reach up and touch his neck, but a stern, “Don't” from Master Blin, made him put his hands down.
When he looked up again she was back in her chair, sipping something out of a flask. She was looking at the ceiling and seemed distant. Both Burc and Corgan sat quietly staring off into the distance as if they were in trances. Master Blin said in a dreamy sing song voice, “In the dark days to come, as Rahvidia storms the realm of Midgaard, there shall emerge a young hero from a land devoid of magic and reason. Rahvidia will be blind to this hero and he shall defeat her with the aid of those who came with him and those who proceeded him.”
Brett woke up. He was lying face down on a hard stone floor. The smell of incense and greeness thick in his nostrils. He heard people talking. The voices came into focus and he heard Corgan say, “so we can have three horses and supplies for our trip to Fripan falls, what about the rest of the task list? Can you forgive it once this task is complete?”
He heard Master Blin cough and then say, “I will talk to Master Kich. When you return from Fripan falls, see me and I will let you know. Ahh our young hero awakes.”
Burc roughly helped Brett up off the floor and dusted him off. The brute was trying to be gentle, but Brett was sure his arm would show a bruise where the gladiator had picked him up.
“what happened,” he said.
Corgan laughed, but it was Master Blinn who answered. “I had to see for myself if you were the prophecies one. The mark on your neck indicates you are the one who will defeat Rahvidia, so please keep Corgan and Burc close. We don't need you getting abducted or killed.” she said dryly.
He reached up to feel his neck. It felt like he had a tattoo there. He looked at Master Blin, but didn't know what to say.
She smiled kindly and said, “Don't worry boy, all will make itself known to you when you need it most.”
She handed him two small pouches. Keep these safe. In one is a mushroom. Take a small bite of it when you need help. It will give you wisdom. It is poisonous so only a small bit or it will kill you before it can help you. The other is the antidote to the mushroom. Once you have the wisdom you need, you must smoke the leaf of the antidote to cancel the effect of the mushroom.” she looked hard at him, “Do not take one without the other,” she warned, “or all hope for defeating Rahvidia will be lost with your death.”
Brett looked at the pouches with fear and distaste. He hated mushrooms. He couldn't imagine putting one in his mouth on purpose. Dutifully he hung the pouches around his neck as she instructed, but he vowed to himself that they would hang there uselessly.
They drank some tea with Master Blin and talk turned momentarily to memories of the two gladiator training days. Finally they took their leave of Master Blin. She hugged both gladiators and then gave Brett a hug himself. She said nothing further, but he felt her parting look was one of hope mixed with doubt.
They left the Masters Hall through the door they arrived and Corgan led them to the outer walls of the Hall of Fight. The went to the stables and with a small scroll from Master Blin they were able to select three horses and then gather provisions for their trip.
Three hours later they were on their way riding toward Fripan Falls.


Abducted

Margo woke to an irresistible urge to puke. The stench she was breathing smelled like burning sewage mixed with roadkill at high noon on a hot day. She was lying on a wet stone floor. Wet with what she couldn't tell. Pitch torches were spluttering along the walls adding to the stench. Stiffly she picked herself off the dank floor and looked around. In the shadows she could hear the moans of other inhabitants of her dark dungeon. Her robe was damp from the floor and her head throbbed as if she'd drank to much the night before. She stopped, what had happened the night before. She was in her room studying her notes on the rune post. She had nearly completed all the translations and had just begun on the Western post, the last in her circuit. She knew if she closed her eyes and meditated she could see the runes as clearly as if she were there, but at the moment she was more interested in finding out where she was and how to get out.
She noticed that the dungeon was rather large and had many alcoves and niches in it. She went to a torch and wrested it off the wall. She noticed the wall was slimy with mold and possibly other nasty goo. She shuddered her urge to retch rising again. She fought back the feeling and started to look around, to see if there were others who wanted out as badly as she did.
The first wretch she came to was at deaths door. He looked like he had been through a cyclone that tore at his skin and clothing. She gasped in horror. Then he pleaded with her to kill him. She cried out that she could not and moved on.
As she worked her way through the dungeon she found many corpses in varying states of decay. Indeed there were even skeletons. A thread of deep despair began to wend its way through her soul. Tears were streaming down her face when she happened up on someone she recognized.
“Reyla!” she said in surprise.
Reyla sat propped against the wall, her eyes closed. She looked relatively unscathed as Margo had been.
Margo gently shook her and said, “Reyla, wake up.”
Reyla moaned and opened her eyes. “Margo?” she said in confusion, “why are you in my room and why does it smell so bad?”
Margo said softly, “Reyla, we're not at the retreat anymore. We've been transported to a foul dungeon somewhere. What is the last thing you remember doing?”
Reyla looked at her in confusion. “A dungeon? Why would anyone send us to a dungeon?” then she came more fully awake and looked around in fear, “What is this place?” she whispered. Margo helped her up. Reyla winced as she finally felt the throbbing in her head. Her wince turned to a look of nausea as she took a deep breath of the foul air.
“Try not to touch the walls,” warned Margo, “If you feel sick with just the smells the walls will only make you feel worse.”
Reyla made a face. “Why are you carrying that torch and not using a magic light?”
Margo said, “I figure since a torch was provided, why waste my magic, I might need it for something more important.”
“Good point,” said Reyla. “Let me get a torch too.”
They got a second torch and continued their search of the dungeon. It seemed to be a vast maze of corridors and sewer trenches with pockets of humanity in various states of near death, death or decay.
Several times they stopped to retch and cajole each other into continuing. The both knew deep down that survival was a matter of finding a way out. After what seemed like hours, there was a shift in the stench. Something else played on Margo's mind but she couldn't quite pin point what it was. She looked at her torch, it was flickering and sputtering more, then she realized that a warm draft of air was fluttering by her face. She stopped and said to Reyla, “Do you feel that?”
“Feel what?” Reyla said irritably. They had stopped saying anything to each other a while ago. They were both edgy and talking only made them edgier so they had stopped.
Margo said, “the breeze, there is a warm breeze coming from somewhere.”
Reyla stopped and stood still, she closed her eyes to let her sense of touch come to the fore. A slight grimace later and she said, “I do feel it.” after a moment of facing different direction she finally turned and said, “it's coming from this way. Follow me.”
As they picked their way along Margo noticed that the stone made way to dirt. The new smell was less of rotting decay and a more palatable dirt smell, mixed with the smell of sulfur. She wondered, not for the first time, if they hadn't found their way to hell.
The dirt track they found themselves on narrowed to a tunnel. They had to bend over to avoid hitting their heads. The tunnel wound its way at upward slope. They noticed that the darkness began to lighten as the heat and smell of sulfur increased. They could also feel a throbbing pulse as if the tunnel led to a beating heart. Finally they stepped around a corner and the tunnel widened enough that they could stand upright and side by side. Around the next bend they could see a pulsing reddish orange glow. Cautiously they crept up to the bend and peered around. The tunnel abruptly ended at a vast cavern. Stalactites reached down from a deep darkness far above and towering stalagmites rose up stretching for their lofty counterparts. A river of molten lava wound its way through the cavern floor. The source of the heat and smell obviously came from the molten river.
Margo and Reyla crept cautiously into the cavern. They stayed close to the wall keeping their backs to it. Margo got the image of a cat straying into a wide open space, and how they would slink around unfamiliar territory.
Margo looked around one stalagmite and saw that there were other tunnels leading into the cavern as well. She wondered if any of those led outside and if any of them had led others to this place. She told Reyla, “I see other tunnel openings. I think we should make a circuit of this cavern and possibly find a tunnel that might lead us out of here.”
Reyla shrugged, she had nothing better to offer so she said, “sounds good, lead on.” they still had their torches, which were fairly useless in the cavern as the molten river glowed immensely lighting the place well enough they could see. However, as Reyla pointed out, they would be glad for them once they found a tunnel and dove back into the dark.
They kept the river to their right as they followed the cave wall around. The river seemed to flow downward and indeed they climbed upward along the cavern wall. Eventually the river was below them and they had a view of the entire cavern. Their path would lead them to a shelf of sorts, where another large tunnel opened into the wall. The river ran at the base of the shelf and around it.
They continued to that tunnel and from the shelf they could see even more of the cavern. From there they could see that the lava spewed out of an opening on the far side of the cavern and flowed down the side of the far wall cutting through the floor like a flaming snake. It eventually disappeared over a ledge at the far side of the cavern that actually appeared to be a cliff. The ceiling extended halfway down, but another cavern could be seen adjoining this one.
Reyla exclaimed, “Hey look down there.” She pointed to the opposite side of the cavern where yet another tunnel opened into the cavern. A small group of people staggered out of the opening. “Do you think it's safe to let them know we're here?” she asked Margo.
Margo squinted in the direction Reyla indicated. She could see the people but she could make out any details. She said, “Maybe we should just wait and see what they do. They could be hostile. Besides I really could use a rest, how about you? This heat and the smell! Its taking a toll on me.”
Reyla nodded, “Yeah I could use a break too. I wish we had some ice cold water to drink.”
Margo nodded in agreement. They sat at the base of a stalagmite and watch the small group struggle about the cavern. Apparently they too had noticed the shelf and the tunnel and were making their way in the same direction. The only problem they had was crossing the molten river of lava. Margo wondered how they would do that.
As they watched the little band approach the molten river, they saw another group emerge from another tunnel. The were luckier and had emerged on the same side as Margo and Reyla. They also saw the other group and moved toward the molten river to assist.
Margo and Reyla looked at each other, one of the people in the second group looked familiar. The crimson robes were hard to ignore. It looked like Sorceress Melebry. She was a formidable woman, and quite flamboyant with the bright red robes. As they watched Melebrys group went to a stalagmite and with some sort of magic were able to lower it like a bridge. It was still precarious looking as it was a slippery surface. After quite some time and what appeared to be a lot of coaxing and some extremely scary moments, the little band was across.
Reyla and Margo dozed fitfully as they waited for the two groups to ascend to the shelf they sat on. The heat from the molten river and the exhaustion of stumbling around in the putrid dark had taken its toll, not to mention the lack of food and water.
They heard the group long before they reached the summit and both women were standing and waiting for them. True to her leadership skills Sorceress Melebry ushered her little flock onto the shelf like a mother goose, cackling and cajoling the whole way.
If she was surprised to see Margo and Reyla she didn't show it. Matter of factly she greeted them as if they had met in the garden at the Sorceress retreat.
"Now Ladies," she addressed them, "If you would be so kind as to give us an accounting of how you came to be here."
Margo and Reyla looked at each other, Margo said, "Truthfully, how I arrived in the dungeon I woke up in I don't know. The last thing I remember is being in my room. The next I woke up here with a throbbing headache and deadly nausea at the stench of those sewers?" she ended with a question. Melebry looked at her with expectation so she continued.
"I grabbed a torch from the wall and searched around for someone that was alive and stumbled across Reyla. She and I saw no others, at least none in a condition to move." she looked down at her feet as she remembered with horror the mutilated bodies that begged for death as she and Reyla searched for a way out." Reyla stood mute, her eyes mirroring the horror of Margo's story, her head bobbing in agreement.
Melebry's eyes softened and those who had followed her murmured their own tragic experiences. One woman was sniffling and wiping her tears, another man stood stoicly fighting the memories. They had all found themselves alone in a place of hell. It seemed the group closed in on itself and for a few moments took solice in the company around them.
Finally Melebry broke the silence and said, "we can rest here a short while before we continue on. unfortunately as this is an unexpected journey none of us has come prepared with food and drink, so we shall have to endure some discomfort." Melebry grunted and tightened the belt around her robes as if she had already been a week with out food.
Normally Margo wold have chuckled at that, but she couldn't. she was just relieved that she and Reyla had some competent leadership ad the burden wasn't on them any more. Or so she thought.
Melebry pulled her aside. "Now Miss Margo, you technically hold the leadership as you wield the most power here. Therefore, what is your plan? How shall we proceed?"
"I – well - umm," stammered Margo. she clapped her mouth shut and thought furiously, then when nothing would produce she said lamely, "Well Reyla and I had planned to go down this tunnel and look for a way out. I really don't know anything about where we are."
Melebry considered for a moment. "I find nothing wrong with your plan. We are ready when you are." and then she whispered in Margo's ear, if you want advice I will be happy to provide, but I have every confidence inyour ability to lead. I have seen your work with the rune posts. This should be easy for you."
Margo tried to smile, but felt it twist into a grimace of doubt. Melebry slapped her on the back and wntto chat with members of the group. Margo stood there stunned not sure where to turn next. Reyla came up and said, "what did she want?"
Margo looked at her with incredulity in her eyes, "she says I am tolead us out of here!"
Reyla squinted her eyes and looked hard at Margo, "no really, what did she say?"
Margo said, "I'm telling you, that's what she said!"
Reyla snorted and then said, "I'm glad it's you and not me."
Margo frowned, "I wish it wasn't me either!"
She sighed and went over to Sorceress Melebry, "If they're up to it we should probably continue."
Melebry nodded and got up, the others reluctantly followed suit.

It turned out they were a group of fifteen abductees, and no one knew really what happened. The youngest among them was a fourteen year old girl. Her name was Amanda. She remained quiet and withdrawn most of the time. In, fact she seemed exhausted. Margo wondered when the girl had eaten last. She stayed near another abductee from the castle, one of the masters.
They all came from Midgaard. Like Melebry, Reyla and herself there were a couple others from the Sorceresses retreat, and then there was a woman name Marie. She ran an Inn and Pub in Midgaard village itself. Also from Midgaard village were a two librarians, at least that was what Margo understood them to be. And then there was Warrior Village. A portly man named Master Kumu. He seemed to chafe whenever Sorceress Melebry insisted on having her way and having Margo lead, but when he spoke to Margo himself he was always very polite and respectful. With him was a very old looking man yet very distinguished looking. He was introduced as Master Tiloc. Margo liked him. He had a twinkle in his eye that reminded her of her grandfather.
They all looked tired and beat, and with good reason. They had been hiking for hours. The tunnel sloped gently upwards at first then it began to switchback.
They were able to walk in groups of two's and three's which made it better for those who were less hardy. They finally reached a level spot and Margo thought she could act feel a breeze. She turned to Reyla to ask her if she felt anything, when someone near the back of the group screamed. They stopped a sense of horror washed over Margo.
Sorceress Melebry had stayed near the rear to make sure there were no stragglers and they didn't lose anyone, but Margo couldn't imagine a scream like that coming from her. The others started rushing forward. Margo told Reyla, “Stay with the group make sure you don't go to far and don't let anyone separate!”
As Margo moved back to where Melebry was Reyla shouted, “what are you doing?” but Margo didn't hear her. Reyla stood indecisive for a moment and then decided to do as she was told.
Margo shouted at the fleeing Midgaardians to stay with Reyla and follow her. In their panic she wasn't sure if anyone heard her but she tried any ways.
She rounded the sharp hairpin curve and nearly crashed into Melebry who was standing her ground and throwing flaming balls at some grotesque spider looking creature. Everytime she hit one it would screech and disappear into the flames. She saw Master Kumu dodging and twisting and striking one. She couldn't believe how agile the portly man was. Master Tiloc, for all of his frailty fought like a demon and then there was Amanda, lying stricken on the floor. She was pale and looked almost deathlike. Melebry shouted, “get her out of her. And we'll cover the rear!”
Margo reached down to help the girl up when one of the beasts lunged for her. Margo threw her arm up to protect herself. From the end of her fingertips blazed pure energy. She directed at the beast and it disintegrated in a puff of foul smelling smoke. Without thinking she directed her energy toward the other four beasts as they threatened to overwhelm the three Masters.
As suddenly as it began, the fight was over. Margo was on her knees, panting as if she had run all the way. Master Kumu hobbled over and dropped heavily next to her. He had a gash on one thigh and scratches on his face and arms. Master Tiloc, though panting seemed unscathed. Sorceress Melebry looked as tired as Margo.
For a long moment no one said anything, each just tried to recover from latent horror and the draining effect on their power.
Amanda who had been prone, stirred first. She moaned and struggled to sit up. She looked ghostly pale, as if she had been drained of color. She said, “It bit me.”
They all looked at her. Melebry said “The beast bit you?”
“No” said Amanda, “the black wraith that the beasts were protecting. It bit me and then said it would call me to join it when the moon was next full.” she looked dreamy, “it promised to make me all powerful, it was beautiful and horrible to look at all at once. It said it was an angel wronged by God.”
Melebry exchanged worried glances with Kumu and Tiloc.
Margo looked at each of them, “What does all of this mean?”
Kumu said, “It means Rahvidia has returned and is recruiting her army.”
“Rahvidia? Who is Rahvidia?” said Margo in confusion.
Melebry said, “Later, we need to find the others and get ourselves out of here. If what Amanda says is true, It's doubtful Rahvidia will be back to us, but she may go after others in the group. We need to find them fast.”
Kumu and Margo helped up the distant and dreamy Amanda. She was able to walk but they had to keep a hold on her, because she was liable to stop and stare off into the distance. Tiloc led the way and Melebry walked behind, keeping an eye on the corridor. They walked for about twenty minutes when they found the rest of the group. Reyla, with the aid of Marie was trying to comfort the group kept them all seated backs together and facing all directions. Reyla had sent two young men a bit further up the tunnel to see if they could find the source of the breeze. They were just returning, when Margo's group arrived.
One of the men a gladiator by the look of his clothing, looked excited, he said, “we think we are close to escaping these tunnels,” he looked at the other man who nodded with a relieved look on his face. The second man appeared to be from Midgaard village and indeed, he occasionally glanced at Marie who regarded him with indifference. The gladiator continued his recounting, “about thirty paces up the tunnel there is a split. The tunnel to the right slopes down as if to return to the bowels of the mountain, while the tunnel to the left comes to an apparent dead end. However, after we search around a bit we think we may have found an opening, but with out good light it was hard to tell. Neither one of us,” he indicated his cohort, “has enough magical power to even start a fire.” He looked apologetic.
Melebry looked at Margo. Margo stood thoughtfully for a moment. “I have two thoughts on this,” she said. “The first is that if we all go to the dead end and are attacked, we have no place to flee, the alternative is to split up, which I don't think is a good idea either.” she looked at the gladiator and asked, how far from the split is the dead end?”
“It's not far,” he said, “probably ten paces.”
Margo nodded and said, “Very well, we'll all go. Then when we get to the split, Sorceress Melebry and I will go with the two scouts and the rest will remain at the split. If there is trouble someone can call to us and the rest need to run.”
Melebry clapped Margo on the back. “You're doing a fine job.” and then she gathered Amanda by the arm and followed the rest up the tunnel.
Margo stood staring after everyone for a minute. On one hand she felt a deep sense of satisfaction that she had come into her own. She could wield magic when she needed most and she could lead. But she also felt fear. She had no idea where she was leading and what was going to happen. She knew nothing of Rahvidia. She wavered between feeling empowered and powerless. She took a deep breath and followed the rest. She knew that if she faltered they could all die.

Camaraderie

It had been a long time since Brett had ridden a horse. When he was a kid his mom had taken him to a riding stable a couple of times. All he remembered was that it was fun. Now however, he was looking forward to using his own two feet again. First of all these horses weren't the average stable hired lumps that trod the same tired paths each day. These were horses trained to carry riders long distances and quite possibly into battle. They were responsive to a practiced hand and quite indignant with an ignorant hand.
They taught Brett a lot in the first hour. Once he figured out what was expected of a rider then he began to feel the chaffing of the hard saddle. Corgan and Burc tried to help him by giving him pointers, but even then he would relieve pain in one area only to start a new one somewhere else. Three hours into the ride and Brett could not even talk anymore. He just clenched his teeth and tried to keep things from chaffing as much as possible. At one point he went numb and was certain that he would not ever be normal again.
He tried to concentrate on something else for awhile. For the longest time he kept his eyes on the mountain, but then once they entered the forest all he could see was the horse and rider in front of him.
Finally, Corgan, who was leading stopped in a quiet little grove and said they could dismount. Both he and Burc hopped off their horses like they were getting up from the dinner table. Brett swung his right leg over and immediately lost his balance and landed on his back, looking up at the horse. He swore the horse was grinning at him.
Burc chuckled, “Horse not laugh at you! Horse is disgusted!”
Brett grumbled and picked himself up. He felt like his legs had been permanently been bowed out. He was certain he would never be able to play basketball again. Then he shook his head and laughed at himself. Just being here nixed the whole basketball career.
Corgan said, “we will only be a few moments. We can quickly eat something and then walk aways to give the horses a break, but we should be able to reach the falls by sunset.” He looked at Brett who was trying to detach a pouch from his saddle that had his food in it. “it is the sunrise you are looking for correct?” he asked Brett.
“Ya, sunrise,” Brett said distractedly while he tried to coax the horse to remain still.
Corgan sighed, “Sometimes you are so flipping smart and other times...” he rolled his eyes and showed Brett how to make the horse stand still.
Brett thanked Corgan and then said, “you have to remember I have only ridden a horse two or three times in my life. I would have had a motorcycle, but Mom forbade that, so a bicycle is it and for some reason riding a horse is vastly different.” Brett was irritated. He hurt and he wasn't in the mood for criticism.
Corgan nodded. He winked at Burc. Brett was in for a long ride. Good naturedly they continued to cajole and wheedle him about his abilities or lack there of. Possibly the pain in his legs and the numbness in his rear, dulled his mind and it took him awhile to realize what they were doing. He had heard the banter before, but typically in the locker room or on the court.
When he finally got it he started to laugh. He laughed so hard he nearly fell from his saddle, which made him laugh more. It startled Corgan and Burc. Finally they were all laughing uncontrollably. The effect on Brett was a turnaround. It kept his mind off the chaffing and he started to pay attention to the terrain. He even began to welcome the numbness as it meant it wouldn't hurt for awhile.
The sun was low in the sky when they began to feel the terrain slope upwards. Corgan turned back to Brett and said, we aren't far now, we should break through a clearing in the trees. There is a stand of rocks through which leads a path that will take is to the waterfall. The waterfall is only about a mile off the main road. Soon we should hear the falls.”
They rode in silence for another thirty minutes. Corgan, who was in the lead put up his hand and said, “Listen, I hear the falls!” Brett strained to listen, but he didn't hear anything except the noises his horse made. A few more minutes up the trail and he finally heard the faint rush of water.
Shortly thereafter, the trees opened up. Just as Corgan had said, there was a rock formation with a pathway leading through it. The path they were on lead around the rock formation and up and around the side of the mountain to the other side. Eventually it crossed paths with the main road to Midgaard village. The path through the rocks lead steeply up toward Fripan falls and the pool it fell into. The river flowed down through the valley and past warrior village on it's journey to the ocean.
They dismounted, for which Brett was eternally grateful. From here they would lead their mounts up to the pool and the falls. As they passed through the rocks the sound of the waterfall reverberated off the walls. It sounded as if a flood threatened to wash through and take them all away.
The pathway was steep and rocky. The horses needed some encouragement through one particularly tricky spot. Once past the rock formation the trees started again. Soon they could see the falls above the trees. Shortly thereafter the ground leveled out. The reached another rock formation, but the rock was smooth. There was evidence of stone masonry.
Corgan said, “A long time ago, long before warrior village existed, there was a king in this realm. He used to come up here and meditate. Eventually, he had a castle built into the rocks themselves. As you can see,” and he pointed out several rock carvings that had succumbed to the erosion of time and environment, “he had a lot of work done here. Much of it has been preserved as you will see when we get up to the pool.”
Brett said, “so you have been here before.”
Corgan and Burc exchanged mirthful glances, “Of course, we had task lists of our own to complete.” Corgan winked and they continued on. The path lead around the bottom of the pool. To the north was a natural sluice that drained from the pool and fed into the river below. Brett had assumed the river came directly from the falls, but now up close to the mountain, he could see that the river issued from the mountain and the falls fed into to from another direction.
Corgan said, “as you can see the river comes from the mountain. It comes out of a lava tube. It essentially follows the course laid for it by fire. The waters from Fripan Mountain are considered to be pure. This is also the home of the water pixies, who purify the waters of Midgaard. This is where they come to regenerate, raise their families and live. At night they light up the falls in a beautiful display. Typically when you see waters lit the pixies are hard at work purifying the water, but here they are celebrating their lives.”
Corgan grinned like a kid. Brett thought that was probably one of the reasons he wanted to come along. 'well' thought Brett, 'I'm not complaining I like the company!'
They came around the falls on the south side. There were steps leading up to the pool and a little farther in a pathway that lead towards the castle ruins built into the mountain side. They took their horses up to the ruins and got them settled. By then the sun had disappeared behind the mountain and they needed torches to see what they were doing. They set up their camp and secured the horses. Then they each took torches and followed what Corgan called “the Kings Path” toward the pool.
It was incredibly dark. They could feel the rumble of the falls as the tons of water spilled into the pool. The noise was deafening. Corgan was saying something to Burc but the words were muffled by the falls. Brett saw Burc shrug.
“What's wrong?” asked Brett.
Corgan looked around concerned, he said, “No pixies. This waterfall should be lit up and filled with pixies.” he looked around. He even got to his knees on the edge of the pool and tried to peer into the depths of the pool.
Corgan looked worried. Whech definitely worried Brett, because usually if anyone knew what to do he could count on Corgan to know. Burc also looked puzzled as he followed Corgan about. Finally, after finding nothing, they decided to head back to their camp and look around in the morning.
They ate their meal in silence. Brett was exhausted and sore so he unrolled his bedroll and lay down. He thought he would fall right to sleep but the aches and pains from riding kept him up for awhile.
Corgan was definitely disturbed. He sat with his back to the wall and lit a pipe. He puffed it and looked off into the distance, mulling over the possibilities of why the pixies were gone. Burc, bothered by nothing, lay flat out on his bedroll and was soon regaling them with a symphony of snores.
Brett watched Corgan puff his pipe. The smoke rings made lazy circles in the air as they drifted about and dispersed only to be replaced by another. Watching the smoke rings made him drowsy. As he drifted off he thought he saw a little man with wings sitting on one of the smoke rings.

It was still dark when Corgan shook him. He had a hand over his mouth and indicated silence. The waning moon had risen a small sliver and provided some light. Brett got up and groaned, it felt like every muscle was on fire. It made his head hurt. He hadn't felt like that since the start of basketball season and that was after two-a-days practices and weight training sessions.
Corgan indicated that he should back his gear and get his horse saddled and ready. It took him some time, but with Burcs help he managed and then they joined Corgan. He had been sitting next to a fallen statue of some sort, blending with the rubble and staring fixedly into the forest. As the other two came up he got close and whispered, “last night a pixie I know well paid me a visit. His name is Masu. He said that strange things started happening a few days ago at the rune post grove.”
Brett looked at him quizzically, Corgan continued, “apparently there has been mages or sorceresses at the site invoking the rune posts or trying to figure out how. Those groves have not been active in years. According to Masu no one has had the power or skill to use them, until now.” I told him we would observe the grove and see what happens.
“What about sunrise,” asked Brett?
Corgan said, “If we can make it for sunrise we will, if we miss it we will wait another day.”
Brett shrugged and nodded.
As they neared the grove Corgan held up his hand for silence. The grove was empty except for the rune posts, set in the four cardinal directions. Brett couldn't see anything at all remarkable about the grove. At any rate he figured he was just along for the ride so he found a nice tree to lean against and fell back asleep.
He hadn't slept long when he felt the air tingle along his face and move through his hair. He opened his eyes and saw that several figures had arrived in the grove. At first they seemed wraith like but then they solidified. He looked at Corgan and Burc. They were watching intently. Once they all solidified he counted four figures. They wore dark hooded robes and were difficult to see. The robed figures moved to one of the posts. It put out its hand, which in contrast to the dark robe seemed incredibly pale. Brilliant white light shot from the figures hand to the post. It bathed the post in the light, but that was all it seemed to do before the light appeared to recoil and snap back into the figure, knocking it backwards.
The figure moaned where it lay, the others ignored it while the next one tried. This one met a worse fate as it bathed the post in what appeared to be a blue flame. The flame engulfed the post and then in the same recoil manner, the flame backed up on the figure and engulfed it in flames. The smell of burning robes and flesh was horrible. Corgan and Burc looked disgusted. Brett forgot about dignity and promptly retched in the bushes. Corgan told him to be more quiet.
The other two figures just stood and watched the one burn. After a few minutes they gathered the injured figure and disappeared. The burning figure had fallen in the middle of the stones. It had stopped screaming and was assumed to be dead. Burc wanted to investigate, but Corgan held him back. He pointed to the sky as darkness began to give way to the morning sun.
Brett was stunned by what he had seen. The brutality threatened to overwhelm him.
Corgan recognized the look of a warriors first time in battle on Bretts face. He clapped him on the back and said, “The first time you see death, I mean brutal death, is hard boy. In times like these you will see worse. I fear this is just the beginning.”
Brett just stared at the spot where the burning figure had collapsed. The screams of death still ringing in his ears. Numb, he tore his eyes away from the once ordinary grove. He looked at Corgan and saw a steely compassion. He knew then and there he was being measured for his ability to live or die. He knew he would die if he did not get past the scene he just witnessed. Brett took a deep breath and pushed aside the revulsion that threatened to overwhelm him and looked Corgan in the eye. “Let's get this task over with before we have to stay another night here.”
Corgan nodded with approval. “Let's go,” he said and they trudged up the stone path to the pool at the base of the falls.
As they reached the pool, the sun was just cresting the eastern horizon. Brett had his task list out and ready. He noticed that this was the only task left on his page.
They waited in silence, the noise of the falls and the light breeze through the pines was enough sound for each of them after the events of the night.
The sun rose majestically over the trees and began to bath the silvery falls in a wash of reddish gold. Brett saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He looked around and realized that the whole area had come alive with little pixies. Some stood on the ground, others fluttered about the air and some floated gracefully in the pool.
As the first rays of the sun glinted of the pool, the pixies began to sing. The melody was joyful and inviting. Brett looked at Corgan and Burc. Corgan had his eyes closed as if he were basking in the joy around him. Burc was grinning like a little kid at Christmas. Brett himself was grinning. It was as if the joy caught ahold and ran away with you.
The sun moved across the pool until in a dazzling display it resembled an egg in a frying pan. The bubbling of the water from the falls made it look like a frying egg. Brett laughed. He shouted, “How ridiculously simple! Who would have thought ...” and then he just laughed. He waved his blank task list and did a little dance of victory around the pool, scattering pixies trying not to get stomped on.
Corgan and Burc laughed at his antics.
All to soon the sun moved and the pixies, faded off to their homes to sleep the day away. Corgan took one last look at the falls and for a moment wonder if he would ever see such a display again. Suddenly he felt sad as the weight of recent events began to settle on him again. Not trusting his voice, he grunted and motioned for Burc and Brett to follow them. It was time to get back to the village and report what they had found.

The Forgotten

Sierra woke to the sound of someone rustling around outside her little cave. Angry she thought it was the raccoons trying to get at her stash of nuts. She grabbed her bow intending to shoot them if she had to. She crept to the mouth of the cave and was startled to see four children poking around her camp. One was digging in her nut cache and another was searching through the remains of her fire. She said “Hey! What are you doing.”
All four jumped, looked at her and like rabbits began to run in four different directions. She dove for the nearest one and caught he by the ankle. For a small child he fought like a raging animal. Fortunately her training, not only as a warrior, but also as a New York cop kicked in and she subdued the urchin. He was still snarling like a wild animal but he couldn't move because she had him pinned.
Eventually, he grew tired and lay still. She eased up on him but still held his arms securely behind his back and kept his legs pinned. Softly she spoke to him, hoping he could understand her.
She said, “I don't want to hurt you, I only want to ask you a few questions. Can you understand me?”
The child nodded.
She continued. “My name is Sierra. I was exiled from the warrior village and have been living here for awhile. What's your name?”
The child just glared at her sullenly. He kept glancing into the forest expecting his friends to come rescue him.
She felt bad and said, “Hey look I don't want to hurt you. It's just that I haven't seen any people in months. I was hoping you could help me.” She released him and stood back.
He sprung off the ground and bolted into the woods and disappeared. Sierra felt loneliness crush in on her. She had wandered the woods for several weeks before finding this cave. She had only intended to camp for a night and then keep going, but then it rained steadily for several days. During those days she had decided to stay. She had no direction anyways and had no idea if anyone even lived in the forest.
She made a daily routine for herself and kept up with Master Kumu's training rituals. She practiced her fighting skills as best she could on the trees around her little cave. She hunted small game for food and even found a little stream not far away for water and fish.
She had been proud of herself for what she had accomplished. She was just sad there was no one to see it and tell her how well she did. Eventually she tried to be content with just telling herself how good she was.
Now she knew there were people in the forest. If there were little kids, then there had to be adults and possibly a village. Little kids didn't stray far from their families. These kids didn't appear to be more than ten or eleven years old. In fact, the one she caught appeared to be around nine even.
She also noticed that they weren't very grubby. Oh sure they were dirty from playing in the forest, but their clothing looked taken care of. Patched and worn to be sure, but clean. Their hair wasn't wild and matted.
She started her fire and began her daily routine of martial exercises and meditation. Then she decided instead of hunting for animals today, she would hunt for the village she knew had to be nearby.
She gathered her bow and staff and some dried meat and some dried fruit. She scanned the forest and decided to head in the direction of the boy she had captured. She looked to see if he left a trail. Faintly she could see where he had initially disturbed the ground as he took off, but then his tracks just vanished. She looked at the trees to see if maybe he had gone that way.
Sierra was rewarded with broken twigs and scratch marks on the nearest tree. As she examined the tree she could see that he had crossed to the next closest tree. She continued to move among the trees looking for the closest ones. Eventually she arrived at a clearing where the trees opened into a small meadow. Tall grasses grew in the meadow, but she could still see the path the boy took as the grasses in the middle of the meadow had recently been flattened. She continued to follow the trail, which seemed to get clearer as she moved farther from her cave.
Suddenly she felt like she was being watched. She stopped and listened carefully to the sounds around her. The forest had become quiet and she knew she was not alone. Possibly she had wandered near enough to the village that she found the sentries.
Sierra stood still and raised her hands palms out. She said loudly, “I don't want to hurt anyone. I am an exile from warrior village and was hoping to find others.”
No response, the silence of the forest threatened to deafen her. All she could hear was the pounding of her heart. She said, “Hello? I know you are watching me. How long are you going to make me stand here before showing yourselves?” she took her bow and staff and layed them on the ground and then backed away two paces.
She said, “Your children came and found me. I know you know of me. Please show yourselves. I truly mean no harm.” she pleaded.
Finally leaves rustled and six men armed with bows and covered from head to foot in dust gray robes stepped from their cover. Their faces were covered and they wore the bracers of bow hunters. Five bows were trained on her. The sixth man, threw back his hood to reveal a mane of shockingly red curls. His face was covered with a neatly trimmed beard and mustache. He was a large formidable looking man. He scowled down at Sierra.
She concealed her fear and looked up at him impassively, her mind running through exercises on how to defend herself from this brute, should he decide to attack.
The big man picked up her weapons. He laughed. Sierra didn't know what to think. Why in the world would he laugh. He showed her weapons to the rest. “Do you see these,” he shouted. She came from Warrior Village. He laughed again, this time it was derisive. Sierra didn't know what to think. Was he mocking her, or the school, or both.
He look back down at her and sneered, “what are you doing here? Did you get lost and find your way into the forest?” his voice was jeering.
Sierra didn't know what to think. She was prepared for a fight to the death and suddenly she felt she was back in grade school and the class bully was hustling her for change. She looked at him and said the first thing that came to mind, “what big boy? Too afraid to pick on something your own size? You feel you can make yourself bigger by sneering at me?” she rolled her eyes. She was no longer afraid.
She stared him right in the eyes and just waited. She had dealt with gang bangers and guns and came out unscathed. These guys were displaying the same attitudes.
The big guy laughed. He handed back her weapons and signaled the others to stand down. He bowed low to her and said, “Forgive me my lady, but we had to be sure.” his kind green eyes twinkled. “kids tend to exaggerate what they see and you scared them pretty bad, but then I really don't think they expected to find anyone near the cave. We haven't had a village exile in years. Lately all sorts of unusual things have been happening, so we had to be sure who we were dealing with.” with and apologetic smile he said, “I hope you will forgive us and join us for dinner?”
Sierra was stunned. One moment she was prepared to fight, the next she was ready to brawl and now, she found herself saying, “that would be great! Thank you.” truly she was just happy to be around people again.
“Let me introduce ourselves,” said the big guy. “I am Dane, First Ranger of the forgotten, this my company.” He proceeded to point each one out and speak their names. Sierra was a bit overwhelmed. She knew she wouldn't remember them all right at this point.
He said “And your name would be?”
She made a formal bow and said, “Sierra Washington of New York City.” They all laughed. One man broke from the crowd, his name was Cecil Nox. He came to her and said, “I sure do miss pizza and the yankees, what was the last you heard of them?”
Sierra laughed, “seriously?” She said, “well I have to apologize, I wasn't much of a baseball fan, but I did like the Nicks and caught a few of their games. Pizza on the other hand, oh I do miss it!”
Cecil laughed and clapped her on the back. “We'll have to swap stories sometime. It's really been a lot of years since I came here. I am sure a lot has changed.”
Sierra wondered at that point just how long a person does stay in Midgaard. She had lots of questions, but they were ready to head back to the forgotten village, so she stored her questions and followed along.
The rangers lead her through a tangled path of brush and trees. When she first ran into them she knew she would be able to find the cave again, now she was hopelessly lost. She was somewhat humbled, knowing that the children had found her and she had never detected them. For the first time in her exile she felt like she had been given an opportunity. Also for the first time, she thought kindly on Master Kumu, thinking that maybe he had a real reason and this was it. He knew that there were things she could learn here that warrior village would never be able to teach. These people lived a harsh life daily. Warrior village was just practice.
Suddenly they faced a wall of impenetrable brush. Sierra looked around and wondered how they would get around this, when Dane whistled like a bird. He was answered by another bird call and then the wall began to raise. She squinted and looked up in the trees. High up in the foliage was another ranger. He was cranking a hoist that raised the gate.
Sierra walked through the gate and was astounded. Her earlier thoughts of harsh living were replaced by thoughts of, 'these people live very well!'
In wonder she walked through the wall. Just inside two large pines flanked the entry like pillared sentries. Their boles were as thick as roman columns. They stretched high into the sky. In fact, she couldn't even see their tops as they were too high.
As she walked through the trees she found they were at the top of a cliff and could see down into a serene and peaceful looking valley. She could see a narrow track that wound it way into the valley. A blue ribbon of a water way cut through the valley and wound lazily from one side to the other. Down along the banks of the river she could see neat little cottages. Up on a rise at one end was a larger building. It was more ornate looking than the cottages. Cecil would stood next to her looking down, pointed out various things.
He said, “the big house on the rise is the Ranger Hall. We meet and gather there for various reasons, but only the unwed rangers actually live their. Most with families chose to have their own homes.” he pointed to a short tower in the midst of everything. He said “that is the bell tower. Our call to arms. It is rarely used. Midgaard and even the forest of the forgotten is quite peaceful, though lately we have had tidings of an ill wind blowing.” his face darkened for a moment.
Sierra shivered. The hair on her arms and the back of her neck stood up at his words. A premonition of something about to go terribly awry in peaceful Midgaard.
Her moment of reflection was lost when Dane called them all to follow down the winding track to the village. The track was steep and switched back and forth to prevent erosion of the cliff side. Sierra thought she was in shape, but found she was quite grateful when they reached the bottom. A dirt track that joined a wider road further up led from the cliff side trail. Just before the main road they passed another bell tower, with a very watchful guard, who even though he recognized Dane, challenged him anyways.
Cecil explained that it was better to be safe that sorry. Sierra nodded in agreement.