It was going to be one of the strangest journeys of my life. Perhaps the last. But I was doing it for a good reason: Because Lady White had asked it of me. So if I was to fall on the journey, I would die in her name.
It would be a very good way to go.
But….That would also mean leaving her without what she wanted. Which I refused to do.
So therefore, no matter what, I had to survive and keep the others alive as well. This should be fun.
Not.
Anywho, where were we? Oh, yeah, just rescued by teleporting invisible kitties from massive army bats being controlled by a sentient cave. Whoop-de-freaking-doo.
So, according to my magic rock that Lady White had given to me before departure—sorry for forgetting to mention that piece of equipment—we were now headed east to a cave close to the Bera Mountains. This should be fun.
Again, not.
So we set off, down on spirit but not on supplies, heading for the closest major river. If my hunch was right, we could take that river for most of the way to the mountains. Just to be absolutely certain, I check my map, and grin. Exactly right. Elves are extraordinarily good at directions.
Oh, my apologies for bragging! I’m sure other races are good at finding things in areas where they’ve never been too.
We seem to be making good progress when things abruptly sour. And what is the cause of this?
Why, who but the lovely Royal Pudginess herself!
“I don’t wanna ride!” she whines. “My bum hurts.”
“Oh, poor baby. Wait ten years and try anal sex, and then tell me your ass hurts,” Anne yells back from her position ahead of Max and the Princess’ horse.
“ANNE!” Joey shrieks. “Watch your language in front of the little one!”
“She didn’t understand it anyways. I don’t think it matters that she heard the words anal sex.” To prove her point, Anne reins in her horse, rides back until she’s level with Max and the Princess, and she hollers: “ANAL SEX IS AWESOME!”
I sigh. People suck.
Of course, Joey does not find Anne’s behavior amusing at all. He, of course, finds it very and excruciatingly offensive. So Joey leaps from his horse, runs alongside Anne’s, and pulls her off. “Asshole, let me fucking go!”
“Not unless you promise to watch your tongue!” he yells back, succeeding in unseating her, giving her a death glare and putting her in a head lock.
“Hell no! Now get the hell off me, jerk!”
I didn’t let it get any further. I turned around, ran back, and tackled Joey away from her as gently as I could. “No more fighting, Joey. And you,” I turn to Anne, FLICKING her mind harshly to enforce my order, “Watch your tongue. No more profanity or obscenity, or there will be consequences.”
Anne glares at me, brushing herself off, before sighing and nodding. “Fine.”
So we continue on, much without incident thankfully.
Not long after, we at last are really on our way. We make it to the river in rather good time, and before long we had arrived at the river.
It was massive. Three or so kilometers across, stretching straight and true on either side of us as far as our eyes could see, shining gleaming silver.
I stand by it for a few brief moments, breathing in the water-damp air, smelling its scent and savoring its taste on my tongue. Water. How I loved the water.
I kneel beside it reverently, and carefully dip my hand into it, capturing some of its preciousness in my hand before lifting it to my lips, taking a single sip, and….
Getting soaked by it when a black-booted foot kicked my hand.
I clench my teeth. I will not shout. I will not swear. I will not worsen the problem. I refuse to. It won’t help anything in the least.
Anne, looking rather annoyed at my lack of reaction, shoots me a contempt-flooded look and settles on her stomach by the water, sticking her entire head into its silvery ribbon and chugging.
I sigh. Did she have no respect for the water at all? No caring? No love? What was wrong with mankind if they didn’t treat water with the respect its beauty more than earned?
Not being a possessor of the time to think about that, I continue my drink, taking a bit more care to watch the world around me than I had before.
And well I had, as it wasn’t long before I heard the first misplaced meow.
“Cats,” I say softly to myself, as another and another meow confirms my fear. “We must find a way out of here.”
“Out of where?” Joey asks, looking around.
“This trap. We’re surrounded on all sides.”
“By what? There’s nothing there!”
“Oh, there’s something……And it doesn’t want us alive.”
Anne stands up, before falling to one knee and digging around inside her left boot. A few seconds later, she stands, a knife held victoriously and viciously in her hand. “Let ‘em come.”
I swallowed. They didn’t understand did they? Cats were nigh impossible to kill. Even with my magic, I’d be just as likely to hit one of my companions as I was to hit an enemy.
“Av-Avery, wha-what do we do-do?” Max asks, slipping closer to me.
“Protect me, sirrah! Me no likey kitties.” Leslie cried, pouting up at me.
“I’ll try,” I promise her. It was the best I could do—there was no guarantee any of us would survive this encounter.
Slowly, slowly the meows draw closer and closer, louder and louder, and I catch the popPOPpop’s of their teleportation. They were savoring this, savoring and delighting in the sight of their prey, knowing we had nowhere to go with the rushing river to the back of us and them to all sides.
We were dead meat, waiting for the kill.
I draw my sword and ready my magic, even though I know it won’t do much good. I could maybe protect us from a few of their attacks, but certainly not all. And walls around us were useless—they’d just teleport right through them.
Of course, a miracle happens.
I was getting rather used to being randomly rescued by random things, and our rescuers certainly take the cake on the ‘random’ requirement.
From behind us, I hear screams and shouts of, “GET IN YOU BLOODY FUCKING FOOLS!”
For about two seconds, all I could think was: They have worse language than Anne.
But then I realize what is truly important: Doing what we’re told.
I whirl, and take half a second to attempt to comprehend the monstrosity that lurked in the silvery ribbon of the river: It was perhaps ten feet tall, entirely made of painted and resin coated wood, and it was carved in the shape of what appeared to be a tormented and tortured swan. The swan was carved with its head bowed low, its beak hanging open, and its wings raised and acting as sails. Across all of its white surface were scars and bloody marks, burns, and places where the ‘feathers’ had been torn out.
Even worse, the name painted on the side read: “The True Angel.”
It makes me sick to my stomach.
But it wasn’t like I had a choice in the matter.
I watch as a drawbridge smacks into the sand a few feet from me, and I don’t waste time in taking hold of the others and dragging them in my wake onto the ship of our saviors.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“Ello elfie. I’m Miss Spreadshe, and this is my sister Mr. Spreadshe,” she points to a young, very handsome man. She looked at least twice his age.
“Don’t you mean brother?” Joey asks before I stop him—it usually isn’t a good idea to ask crazy people to go into more details on their insanity. On the grounds that it would take far too long, of course.
“OH YUSH!!!!” she shrieks, throwing her white-haired head back with laughter. “You’re right!!! I did mean brother.”
We exchange weird looks, and the brother/sister breaks the silence with a muttered, “She’s bonkers, ignore her.”
We try our best to do so, but we’re not honestly sure if we can.
We follow the very strange pair deeper into their monstrosity of a ship just as it begins to pick up speed once more. “Thank you for saving us, my name is Avery.” I say, earnestly.
“Aw, so the elfie does have a name. And he can talk, too! Isn’t that good for oo, elfie?”
I clench my teeth and try not to scream. “I may be an elf,” I say tensely, “But I am far more civilized than you savages make my kind out to be.”
Surprisingly enough, rather than a dark glare, Mr. Spreadshe shoots me a small smile.
Was I the only one wondering how many sane people were on this boat?
And feeling rather afraid that the answer would turn out to be, well, zero?
We’re shown to a few rooms, one for each of us. Mine is the smallest—I sigh when I realize that, but otherwise do not bother paying attention to it—and the Princess’ is the largest.
I think on how I rarely call her Leslie, and decide to change it just a bit: I would call her by her first name more often. And….Maybe calling Leslie Her Royal Pudginess is a bit offensive as well.
But don’t expect me to stop calling her that…It was far, far too amusing for me to ever give up.
I settle down onto my tiny bed, groan, and take off my boots. My feet smell awful.
Well, the day could be worse, right.
Three seconds later, the boat starts tipping starboard.
That wasn’t a challenge, world! I yell in my head. I didn’t dare you to ruin things even more!
But of course it had happened anyways.
I stagger out into the hallway, leaning against the wall and trying to keep my balance, following the screams to where I knew I could locate my companions. “Answer me! Where are you?” I yell out when the screams lead me nowhere.
These curved walls….They’re throwing off the echoes so much it’s hard to follow them!
Swearing, I start to run towards where I thought the drawbridge was.
It’s not there.
I gaze around frantically, my eyes searching the plain wood walls as if they would have my answer, praying that I could find them soon.
The boat jerks over more.
I give up on standing on the floor, and shift my feet over so I’m standing with one foot on the wall, one foot on the floor, and fully upright.
And I start to run like that, jerking sideways every few minutes as it tilts more and more, growing more and more desperate.
What was causing this?
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
I wake up in my bed, screaming, the sheets plastered to my skin.
Only a nightmare.
Only a nightmare.
But I couldn’t shake the feeling of fear….
I go to find the others, following the scent of food and the sound of laughter, mockery, and whining.
I end up in what looks like a mess hall, its walls curved to match the outline of the swan’s body, brightly lit by magical lights scattered all around. “Elfie, you finally wakeses!” Ms. Spreadshe exclaims.
I smile just a bit, and take the final empty seat. I eye the food already on the table, and sigh a bit in dismay. “Do you, perhaps, anything other than meat? I’m not…too fond of it, you see. I would prefer vegetables or fruit, and I do not mean to be a bother or to cause offence in the least.”
They look at me for a few seconds, every last one of them, before Mr. Spreadshe sighs. “Certainly, young Avery. I’ll just get you one of the hardest things for me and my sister to obtain. After all, anyone can shoot a deer or catch a fish. It takes a real talented man to grow a garden.”
I blush, and lower my head. “I don’t feel very hungry, I’m sorry. I swore to never eat meat, as of the disrespect it represents.”
They seem to accept that, and so we continue our meal in almost perfect peace.
Or…As peaceful as you can get with the motley companions that I am enjoying this meal beside.
An hour or so after the meal had ended, we were on land again, and realizing where we were: The completely wrong village.
