Tuesday 15 December 2009

Chapter 12: Down The Rabbit Hole

Bridgeside Excursion: Journal Entry 1


At around lunchtime today I arrived at Bridgeside. As it was indeed lunchtime and I was growing hungry, I proceeded to the local tavern whereupon I purchased a meat pie and some fried potatoes. The lunch was adequate and over-priced. I approached the landlord and decided to ask some questions with regards to the incident, keeping my distaste of the price quiet. 
You know, I can’t do this. Morab asked me to account for all the details of the trip, but I feel such a nonce for doing this. It must read like the most forced thing ever. I’m not a writer. That’s all Sam. I’m the librarian, the accountant, the cook, the cleaner all rolled into one. Tergen the Odds and Ends Man. This is my first solo mission in the field, and I have to write down all the details and the thing is, I take the minutes. I can’t describe the adventure apart from in a really dull, methodical manner. I apologise for the person many years into the future who has to struggle through this. 
The landlord didn’t tell me much, but his wife was most useful in the provision of information regarding the Crowning incident. Of course, Jen had told me a great deal about the town, but it was interesting to hear the story from another point of view. The landlord’s wife directed me to the armoury where I might find the blacksmith’s apprentice, Majesty. The boy was heavily involved with the situation, trying to help Jen escape and having found the dead boy Angus is the cave. 
Upon arriving at the armoury, the blacksmith summoned Majesty, although he was called upon by the abbreviated Maj, from the back. Maj was a young man, semi-attractive but strong. His manner captured the very essence of brokenness. I greeted him, he nodded in return. I asked whether he would walk with me. He nodded, and so we walked. 
It was difficult for me, a social hermit, to make conversation with this figure of stony silence. I find it hard enough as it is without the other person not making an effort either. The conversation went along the lines of this:
Me: I’ve come about Jen.
Maj: You know her?
Me: She is staying with me and the rest of my family.
Maj: Is she alright?
Me: She’s doing fine.
Silence.
Me: I’ve come to ask about the Crown.
Silence.
Me: I believe you found it in the first place.
Silence.
Me: What happened down in that cave, Majesty?
Awkward Silence.
Me: Could you take me there?
He nodded and he led me out of the town into the neighbouring countryside. On the way, he asked me about my motives and the reasons for my enquiries into the incident. I explained fully about the Keepers of the Crowns and the Crowners of the Light, generally putting what had happened into context for him. He listened keenly and did not interrupt. We arrived at the waterfall. It was a beautiful natural feature and I stood in awe. Maj stood beside me, yet I believe his mind to be preoccupied with the sequence of events that happened the last time he was here. Finding a dead child and seeing a living corpse melt into dust is bound to have had some effect on his psychology. 
____________
This man, Tergen, he was odd. Very matter-of-fact and specific. I could imagine in his house, everything would have its place, everything would be overly-organised. He spoke as though in bullet points. He wanted to know more about what had happened. I was a little reluctant at first, but once he had explained his motives my trust in him was justified and I delivered him to the waterfall. Before departing, I had grabbed a rope ladder and a lantern so that we would have little problem getting down the hole.
Unsurprisingly, the cave had not changed since I had last been down there. Just as dark, wet and cold as last time. The whispers of horror and death still resonated around, and I shrunk back behind Tergen who cautiously stepped down the passageway. He said about how the cave could not have been naturally formed and that either a very accomplished group of miners or a very powerful magician could have created such a cavern. 
We rounded the corner and there was the stone throne bathed in blue light. There were the old, rich robes, covered in the dust of their wearer. I stopped and watched Tergen as he approached the throne. He knelt down and examined it thoroughly. He took out some paper and started sketching and doing rubbings of the patterns and runes on the throne. He picked up the robes and flapped them. The dust of the old woman rose into the air, hiding Tergen from sight. I screamed and ran back to the rope ladder, cowering.
I heard Tergen calling my name and apologies. He hadn’t meant to frighten me. He asked whether there had been anything else down here. “No,” I replied. “Just Angus and her.” Tergen seemed a little disappointed. He signaled to me to start climbing the ladder. “There was the book!” I remembered, spouting it out rather loudly and startling Tergen. 
___________
The venture is turning out to be very profitable. I have gathered the robes, rubbings and notes of runes from the throne and now there’s a book involved. It’s all getting rather exciting. My jealousy of Sam’s job is rising - he does this kind of thing all the time, whilst I’m stuck in the Grove with Morab. I have decided that I am going to make this quest worthwhile. I will follow up every lead, however tenuous the link may be! I have earned this adventure!
Maj told me not to get my hopes up about the book, but I could not still the rising excitement and anticipation within me. We returned to Bridgeside, and Maj took me to Jen’s house. He advised me to stay outside whilst he spoke to Jen’s parents. I did so and waited about five minutes before Maj returned carrying a large, heavy book. It was certainly a magnificent volume with an impressive hard-cover binding and gilded pages. I made an exclamation with regards to its beauty and how much data it must contain. Then Maj opened the book. My heart sank as I saw the cut-out shape of a hip flask, and therefore the removal of a lot of the data and words from the book. “Damn,” I remember saying, quite distinctly.
Maj took me to the Bridgeside tavern and I bought him and myself a drink. I leafed through the book. There were some pages towards the back that were unscathed, but I couldn’t bring myself to read them. They would be all out of context. I’m going take it back for Morab and Sam to look over. I commented on the tragedy of the situation by simply announcing: It’s tragic.
Maj: The state of the book?
Me: Everything. The book, Jen’s immortality and imminent death, her sister’s death, Angus’ death. This town has suffered so much. And all because a child fell down a hole whilst playing. (A thought struck me.) Do children often play down there?
Maj: No. They’re usually encouraged to play in the meadow on the other side of town. The river can be dangerous.
Me: Then why was he there? Did anyone know there was a cavern behind the waterfall?
Maj: No. This was the first anyone knew of it.
Me: Then what possessed him to go there? (Silence, but Maj’s eyes spoke volumes to me. He knew something.) What are you not telling me, Maj?
Maj: He had a map.
Me: Why didn’t you say so before?
Maj: Because I was scared. Angus was dead and then I saw that ghost of a woman die and everything escalated and it just seemed… frightening. I didn’t want to accept the fact that someone had given a map to Angus and encouraged him to go investigate. Someone sent Angus to his death and that thought terrified me because I knew that it had to be someone in the town. It’s only a small town, I know everyone and to think that one of them did this…
His face was quivering with what was either distress or anger… or both. Or maybe neither... I’m not so good when it comes to identifying and describing emotions and facial expressions.
I allowed Maj to breathe and sort himself out before pushing the conversation forward again. I asked whether there was anyone who could help me out (I thought it was important not to necessarily include him with my plans). He muttered something about not wanting a can of worms to be opened. This phrase confused me. I reassured him that there would be no worms involved wherever this situation may lead us, and certainly none in a can. I pressed him further and he gave me the name Joan. Joan is Angus’ younger sister.
I requested that Maj go and fetch her for me so that I might speak with her. Maj nodded and left the tavern. 
Whilst he was gone, I felt a great sense of guilt. I was overcome by the sense that I was manipulating Maj and that he only did as I asked out of duty and fear. He was a young man with an unstable mind and I was, to a large extent, using him to means that were little of his concern. They would certainly not help his mental situation. This thought carried me forward until Maj returned with a young girl in tow. 
Maj introduced me to Joan and we sat down to talk.
__________
Joan was quite happy to speak to Tergen. She was a very confident girl for her age, and especially considering her older brother, with whom she had been close to, had died only a few weeks ago. I made her sit next to me and held her hand, for my own comfort and for her protection. “I’m here to talk to you about your brother, Angus,” Tergen said. “I don’t want to upset you,” he added, as though Joan might burst into tears at any instant. “Can you remember going to the waterfall?” Joan nodded. “Can you remember why you were going?”
Joan straightened her back. “Angus had a treasure map and he wanted to go and find the treasure. And the map said that there was a cave, and the cave was behind the waterfall. And then Angus fell down the rabbit hole and he’s in the Other World now.”
Tergen looked at me. He was obviously unfamiliar with the tales that children are told about death and sickness. I stared back, unsure of what to convey. I probably came across quite angrily. My face naturally falls into a scowl. “Where did Angus get the treasure map from?” 
Joan shrugged.
“Haven’t you got any idea? When did he start planning the treasure hunt?”
“I don’t know. It was like when the fair was here.”
“Tell me about that. What did you do at the fair?”
“I played lots of games, bought sweets and food. And I listened to the storyteller.”
“And what did Angus do at the fair?”
“He was at the storyteller’s loads.”
“What stories did the storyteller tell?”
“There was actually one about the waterfall and a girl got lost behind there and the nymphs heard her crying and turned her into a weeping statue. And that she is still behind the waterfall and you can hear her crying if you listen carefully.” Tergen and I looked at each other, eyes agog and mouths open wide. If Angus had spent a lot of time with the storyteller, and if he had told a story that almost certainly directly refers to the Bridgeside waterfall, then maybe this storyteller was the person responsible. The storyteller is the trigger in all this.
__________
Joan was remarkably useful, and I am now making preparations to pursue this travelling fairground. After we sent Joan on her way, Maj was making noises about coming with me. I don’t know if this is a good idea. He’s clearly still recovering mentally, and I don’t know whether a ‘quest’ will help him or hinder him. 
Just spoke to Maj and told him that he couldn’t come with me. He got very angry and so we leave Bridgeside tomorrow at noon.

Wednesday 2 December 2009

Chapter 11: Getting Too Dark



I am on the road again. Barely two days worth of rest, and I am back on my feet again. It’s worse this time… Escorting Jen back to the Druid’s Grove, I have been spoiled with a taste of company. Now I am alone, I yearn for someone to talk with. That’s why I am writing this letter to you. Because I’m lonely. I’m sat here, under a tree, with no living being within eyesight. Oh wait, I can make out a solitary sheep on yonder hill. I am even reading this letter aloud as I write just so I have a voice to hear. It will be another two days before I arrive at a town where I can post this, so this will become somewhat of a mundane journal. I apologise, friend.
Evening now. Another tree, another addition to the letter. I’m setting up camp, got some sausages to fry. Morab was very generous this time. I have also found some wild potatoes and garlic. What a feast! Shame it isn’t the strawberry season. That would have finished off the meal quite nicely. I was going to write another myth about one of the Crowns, but it’s getting too dark for me to write now. Epic time-keeping fail. My shelter isn’t brilliant; I do hope it doesn’t rain.
It rained. Soggy pages. Sorry. Maybe they’ll have dried by the time you get this, but even then the ink might have run and the paper will be that much firmer and crinklier, if you know what I mean… I have a long leg of my journey to get through today so I won’t be taking substantial breaks. I have an epic ravine to cross today. That one with the crocodiles at the bottom? I shouldn’t really say where I’m going. But it’s written now, and I don’t like blotting pages. Especially letters. 
Ok. So it is raining madly again. I have found a cave at the top of the ravine to shelter in. And I thought what better opportunity to write a story than now. This is a story about a Crown that relates to a ravine. Possibly the one I am embarking across now. I just got a shudder. That shudder when you are at the location where history has been made. Exciting… 
The story! Unfortunately, I do not have my sources with me so I cannot confirm whether this is in fact the same ravine, but I do know that they come from a journal kept from a man who guided treks across the ravine and surrounding area. He was a professional and rigorous with his journal keeping that was written up at the end of each day. Thank goodness for people like him, else us scholars would be half-crazed! I’ll let you know whether it’s the same ravine when I return to the Grove. Then I might return to the ravine to perform a more in-depth study. 
Anyway, here’s the account.
They had set out early that morning, all kitted out and prepared. The guide, Huette, was taking just one person with him. This man had paid a lot of money for this expedition, and it wasn’t even a particularly difficult one. Indeed, the only difference was that this man wanted to abseil down the ravine at a particular location - next to where the sun passes through the Frigid Rock as the sun approaches its zenith.
Huette knew well the Frigid Rock but had never been there when at noon, he had confessed. The man’s name was Brynnd. He was an awkward-looking man, curious features, but Huette knew not to question people’s appearances. Especially if they were physically superior to him, and Brynnd looked strong.
The pair journeyed to the Frigid Rock and waited until noon. Huette admitted later that he was skeptical that anything would happen. But, his cynicism was disproved as the sun reached its zenith and the rock emitted a beam of light onto the ground some forty metres away from where they were sitting. Later, Huette would discover that the Frigid Rock was artificial and bore a system of mirrors inside it. 
Having discovered where they were to abseil down, Huette started to set himself up to do the deed. However, he was challenged by Brynnd. “You are my responsibility,” Huette explained. “If anything happens to you, I am liable to charges from your family and my reputation would be ruined.”
“I have paid a lot of money for you to help me. And what is down there is mine. I will not risk you stealing what is rightfully mine.” 
“You are a treasure seeker?”
“Something like that. Harness me up.”
Huette reluctantly did so, and as he did Brynnd took out of his pack a fine crown. It was a small tiara with embedded sapphires, which shimmered and sparkled in the sunlight. Huette did not enquire. As a man of principle (and mild fear of Brynnd), he believed that it would be best not to ask.
Brynnd was lowered down the side of the ravine slowly and carefully, and everything was going well. Brynnd shouted up to announce that he had safely landed on a small ledge. Huette heard no more from Brynnd. There was a silence for quite a while, and then a scream and then Huette saw Brynnd fly into view and down, down, down into the ravine. 
When they found Brynnd’s body downstream, there were mysterious scratches on his forehead. His crown was missing. 
Huette could not understand what had caused this, but he suspected that there was a quake of sorts that created a great surge of water that swept down the ravine and that Brynnd would have fallen into. Huette suspected that the quake caused Brynnd to fall. The torrent of water in question is reported to have also swept away a village from the map. 
Huette was imprisoned for life under suspicion of murder, though no one ever came forward claiming to be related to Brynnd. Huette died in prison an old and lonely man.
I am afraid that there are more tragic stories than happy ones when it comes to the Crowns. I do not doubt that Brynnd’s crown was indeed one of ‘our’ Crowns. Unfortunately, I am unable to identify it. But I am going to put this next on my to-do list. This is reported to have happened eight hundred-ish years ago. Can’t be specific without my notes! So not too long after Hunn’s time, possibly. 
Well, I am going to set off again - it has stopped raining. I am going to have quite a few weeks in the town (no locations, remember!) before the Crowners of the Light meeting. It’ll be nice to have some time to myself! 
This afternoon, I saw human civilization for the first time in two days! You have no idea how happy that made me! Must keep going though. This is just short note so you can understand how important a thing it is to me! Good weather now. Typical.