Chapter 18: No One Wants To Hear About Cowards

18.1 EXT. KINGDOM FAITHFUL MOUNTAINSIDE FOREST - EVENING

TERGEN, MAJ and ATIFICAT are sitting around a campfire at the foot of a mountain.

MAJ

What do your names mean?

TERGEN

That was random. Where’d that come from?

MAJ

Your names are unfamiliar to me, that’s all. I was just wondering whether they meant anything.

ATIFICAT

What does yours mean?

MAJ

My full name is Majesty - “one who is majestic”. Royal.

ATIFICAT

(sarcastically)

No kidding.

MAJ

So… What about yours?

TERGEN

Nothing.

MAJ

Nothing?

TERGEN

Nothing.

ATIFICAT

Same here.

MAJ

How can your names not mean anything?

ATIFICAT

Do they need a meaning? Why can they not just be a collection of sounds that identify one person from another? Meanings are over-rated.

TERGEN

It’s so much more interesting not having a meaning. No expectancy to live up to. Haven’t you grown up with the notion that you have to be majestic?

MAJ

Not really.

ATIFICAT

Then why are you travelling with us?

MAJ

To find out what killed Angus and Rosa.

ATIFICAT

Precisely. You want justice. And by achieving justice, you will earn your name. You will have performed actions that reflect your name - you will be majestic and have royal qualities. It’s all subconscious.

MAJ

All subconscious? That’s just a way of saying “This is what you’re like but you don’t know it.” And neither do you! It’s a scapegoat for all the mysteries of the psyches. So why are you here?

ATIFICAT

To save my skin. To try and right some of my wrongs. But that has got nothing to do with fulfilling a namesake. 

MAJ

What about you, Tergen?

TERGEN

I’m here to bring some meaning to my life.

MAJ

Maybe because your names have no meaning, the pair of you are searching for meaning in your lives. 

ATIFICAT

I don’t think so.

MAJ

Subconsciously then.

ATIFICAT

I thought the subconscious was a scapegoat…

All three of them laugh together.

CUT TO:

18.2 EXT. KINGDOM FAITHFUL MOUNTAINSIDE FOREST - NIGHT

MAJ and ATIFICAT are lying down looking up at the stars through the leaves, going to sleep. TERGEN is sitting up, keeping watch.

ATIFICAT

What were you before you started this journey, Maj?

MAJ

A blacksmith’s apprentice.

ATIFICAT

Ah. Making swords.

MAJ

Mostly tools - farming and household. Nigel, my master, usually makes any weaponry that is required.

ATIFICAT

Can you fight?

MAJ

Not with a sword. But I’m strong. I often win at arm-wrestling contests at the tavern.

Atificat and Tergen snigger.

MAJ

What?

TERGEN

When you meet enemies in the big, wide world, they aren’t going to challenge you to an arm wrestle. They’re going to come at you with a sword like at the fairground.

MAJ

I know! I never said that’s how I would fight in combat. 

ATIFICAT
You need training, boy.

MAJ

Do you think it’s really necessary?

ATIFICAT & TERGEN

Yes.

TERGEN

We’ll start training in the morning. Just the basics. You’re lucky we kept those swords from the fairground.

THE READER

Lucky because otherwise there’d be a terrible sense of discontinuity.

Maj looks confused.

ATIFICAT
Don’t worry. It’s a bit of a meta moment.

MAJ

Right.

ATIFICAT

So, what did you do before you were a Keeper of the Crowns, Tergen?

TERGEN

That is none of your concern.

ATIFICAT

A soldier?

TERGEN

A soldier?! Good gracious, no! What makes you think that?

ATIFICAT

You can handle yourself with a sword surprisingly well. 

TERGEN

I know I don’t come across as the type likely to be a decent swordsman, but I had very good training. If you don’t mind, my past is irrelevant. It has no bearing on anything at the moment, thank you very much.

ATIFICAT

A-ha! You are our man of mystery!

MAJ

The man with the masked past!

Atificat and Maj laugh.

TERGEN

Let me be, guys.

MAJ

Spoilsport.

TERGEN

I like my privacy and I would appreciate it if you would respect that. Now let’s change the subject.

MAJ

Fine. Atificat, could you tell us the rest of the story of the mighty Andleli and his quest to recover the Crown of Prophecy. I was really enjoying it before you were so rudely interrupted.

ATIFICAT

The mighty Andleli! I like that. It’s completely untrue!

MAJ

What?

ATIFICAT 

Andleli was a coward. He was no hero. He wasn’t a brave warrior during the Great Wars. He was a deserter, Maj. A coward. 

MAJ

Why did you lie then?

ATIFICAT

Because no one wants to hear about cowards.

THE READER

I do.

ATIFICAT

Oh alright then. Here’s what really happened.

CUT TO:

18.3 EXT. THE QUAYSIDE - DAY

It is a busy dock full of the hustle and bustle of merchants, sailors and passengers and their families. ANDLELI, PANALIA and RAPHER enter and stand, watching the scene.

ATIFICAT (V/O)

So as we know, Andleli and his companions Panalia and Rapher, are on their way to the Isles of the Pygmy Elves to retrieve the Crown of Prophecy. But first we must note that he was far from perfect. He did not save the Rapher the mole. He watched from the bushes as Rapher was beaten.

MAJ (V/O)

So he was a really bad guy?

ATIFICAT (V/O)

Not a bad guy. Just not a good guy. He was weak.

ANDLELI

Oy!

ATIFICAT (V/O)

Well, it’s true, isn’t it?

ANDLELI

Still… cheap shot…

THE READER

Get on with it.

ATIFICAT (V/O)

Moving swiftly on. They arrived at the coastal town of Seaside, named for its location beside the vast expanse of saline water. However they were unable to get anyone to get a boat for them. This was partly to do with the fact that not many ships did trade with the Isles of the Pygmy Elves. Partly because no sailors were willing to be stuck on a boat with a wimp, a pigeon and a mole.

RAPHER

What are we going to do then?

ANDLELI

We could leave you behind.

PANALIA

No!

ATIFICAT (V/O)

Panalia said, for he had grown close to the mole.

ANDLELI

Then I have already failed. The only way we can get over there now is by magic.

WARLOCK

(overhearing on passing)

Magic? Did you just say magic? Why, my boy! I am a warlock. And a mighty powerful one at that! What is it that you need, lad?

ANDLELI

I need to get to the Isles of the Pygmy Elves, but no boat will take us.

WARLOCK

You are burdened by your animal friends?

ANDLELI

Yes.

WARLOCK

Let us change the circumstances. Instead of your pigeon being a hindrance, let us make him a help.

The Warlock holds his hands over Panalia.

SFX: FLASH OF BLUE LIGHT

RAPHER

What did you do?!

ANDLELI

Have you killed him?!

PANALIA

I am still alive, friends.

ANDLELI

No such luck.

PANALIA

(genuinely laughing)

Your wit never ceases to entertain me!

ANDLELI

What did you do?

WARLOCK

I have given your pigeon the ability of super-strength so that he can fly you over the sea to the Islands.

ANDLELI

Thank you so much, sir! How can I ever thank you?

WARLOCK

You needn’t bother. I’m just glad that I was able to help. 

And with that, the Warlock walks away, humming to himself.

RAPHER
What a charming man!

PANALIA

You don’t get many nice people nowadays.

ANDELI

(thoughfully)

Hmm. Well, onto the Pygmy Isles, I guess.

CUT TO:

18.4 EXT. KINGDOM FAITHFUL MOUNTAINSIDE FOREST - NIGHT

ATIFICAT looks at his companions but they are sleeping.

ATIFICAT

I guess we’ll call it a night then.

READER

What about me?

ATIFICAT

You’ll just have to wait, won’t you. Good night.

FADE TO BLACK.

Chapter 16: Morally Void Beings

“Right. You all ready for another story? I have had my tea now, and I am properly refreshed to tell you a tale of epic standards. So settle down, children, and let old Atificat tell you about our hero Andleli and how his epic mythical journey began:

Andleli was a powerful warrior who fought in the Great Wars. He killed many strong enemies and brought great prosperity to his homeland. However, on his journey home from the wars he was confronted by an arrogant, young man who challenged him to a duel. Andleli had no difficulty in defeating him and ran him through with his sword. 

Little did Andleli know, the arrogant young man was the son of a powerful sorcerer called Isin. Now Isin was not only very powerful but very cruel and vindictive. When he learnt that his son had been murdered, he used his magic to summon Andleli to him. He demanded of Andleli the completion of five exceedingly dangerous tasks to make recompense for the loss of his son. He called Andleli to his study at the top of his creaking, crooked house. “Listen carefully, Andeleli,” Isin commanded. “The Pygmy Elves are in possession of a truly spectacular thing. It is a Crown. A Crown that allows the wearer to prophesy and see the future. Because of it, the Pygmy Elves have remained an unbeatable force, as, of course, they are always aware of any future invasions and can plan accordingly. I want you to retrieve it for me.”

“But won’t they know that I am coming?”

“Yes. And be able to predict your every move.”

“How is this possible?”

“I don’t care. Just get me that Crown if you truly seek absolution for your crime.”

And to ensure that Andleli would not start a new life again on his travels and not complete the task, Isin cursed Andleli with a creature. “Do not worry, worm. The creature in question is very pleasant and highly magical. It shall be your guide to the Pygmy Elves and back again. It is an animal of spectacular beauty, shimmers of green and purple and silver.”

“What is this wondrous being, sir?”

There was a clumsy flapping and a bird landed on Andleli’s shoulder. “Good day, Mr Andleli-worm! My name is Panalia and I shall be your guide!”

Andleli cast a dark look at Isin, and Isin smiled back cruelly. “What better creature to find your way back home than a pigeon?”

“Indeed,” Andleli dryly replied.

Panalia the pigeon pooed.

Andleli and Panalia had been travelling across the land for several weeks now, through forest and meadow, across mountains and valleys. Now, the unlikely pair were trekking through a wood. “This forest is known as the Wood of Terr - a notorious bandit. Terr is believed to have resided in this forest during the summer time, and retreating to various caves in the winter where he would slay hibernating bears and live off their meat and use their fur for warmth,” Panalia explained. “Of course, he had a band who accompanied him, but he regularly killed them and introduced new members to keep the chances of a mutiny to a low and his leadership intact. But the band of thieves obviously disbanded many many years ago.”

Andleli and Panalia then entered a clearing and stumbled upon a band of thieves mugging a mole. The mole in question was a bit of a goon and was highly susceptible to being targetted by morally void beings. He was lying on the ground whilst the muggers tore at his tweed jacket and stamped on his reading glasses. As the mole lay subject to the vicious beatings, the wind was in the willows and the picnic basket he had been carrying was dashed upon the grass in a great mess of wicker, tartan and marmalade. Twas a sorrowful sight. 

Immediately, Andleli jumped into the clearing and started to fight off the muggers singe-handedly. Having killed off half of them, the rest of the thieves fled into the labyrinth of trees. Andleli went to attend to the mole.

The mole rolled over and saw the man and the pigeon approaching. “Oh dear. I must be hallucinating.”

“‘Fraid not, friend; he is actually a pigeon,” Andleli said, helping the mole up.

“Hello mole. My name is Panalia and this is Andleli and we are on a quest to retrieve the Crown that is worn by the King of the Pygmy Elves. Would you like to join us, mole?”

“That’s very kind of you to offer!” the mole said. “I am very much a-feared that the robbers might return. My name is Rapher. I do apologise for the circumstances that our meeting has occurred under. I was going to meet my friend the Water-Rat when I was jumped by those despicable thugs! Thank you, good sir, for saving me! I will do what I can to repay this favour you have done for me, and shall travel with you until I have fulfilled this debt.”

“Great,” Andleli muttered dryly.

And so the trio of travellers continued on their way towards the coastline…”

“Enough, Old Man!” an audience member cried out. Atificat looked at the man who had interrupted him. All the children and the parents sitting on the grass turned around to see who was ruining their story. It was a man wearing a large brown habit with the hood up, shrouding his face in shadow.

“Can I help you, sir?” Atificat asked, politely despite the rude interruption.

“You’re coming with us.”

From what seemed from nowhere, six other hooded figures surrounded the storyteller’s tent. Parents held onto their children in the hope that they might not get involved. But Atificat kept his cool. He stood up. “Why?” he asked.

“Because you are Required.”

“Hmm.” 

“Come, Antifi- Arrrrgh!” The hooded man fell to the ground, a dagger lodged in the back of his neck. Behind him was a young man who had a very sheepish look on his face. Immediately, pandemonium arose. Children and parents ran in all different directions to try and escape the imminent fight. Three of the hooded figures ran for the young man, drawing their scimitars, whilst the other three went for Atificat. 

The young man ran and was followed hastily by another man who seemed very perplexed with the evolution of the situation. They ran into a tent where the local blacksmith was showing off his handiwork. They both grabbed swords and exited the tent, prepared to fight. “You know, I’ve never been in a proper sword fight before, Tergen,” the younger man said. “And that’s the first time I’ve killed anyone.” 

“If you don’t want to fight, Maj, then stay back. I can take them,” Tergen said, brandishing his sword and twirling it in ways that only a professional could. And then the hooded men lunged at them. The man called Tergen parried, dived and dodged, constantly getting the better of the hooded men. He struck them with the sword and they fell to the ground. The younger man called Maj stared on in amazement. Evidently, he hadn’t expected this kind of behaviour or set of skills from Tergen.

Meanwhile, Atificat was busy taking on his own scimitar-wielding gang of rogues. He had grabbed his staff - a old gnarled branch from a tree that he had carved and fashioned into a suitable walking stick/weapon, depending on the situation. This situation certainly called for it to be used as a weapon. Atificat, despite his age, whirled his staff above his head and whacked it against the head of the closest hooded man, who fell to ground unconscious. Atificat continued to strike out with his staff, knocking his attackers to the ground either into an unconscious stupor or into the afterlife. When they were all lying on the grass, Atificat disappeared into his tent. A few minutes later he reappeared carrying his staff in one hand and a bag in the other. 

“‘Ere, Atificat!” a fire-breather called, running over to him. “Where you off to?”

“Anywhere. They’ve found me again,” Atificat replied, still marching off through the fairground, all eyes still on him after his impressive performance.

“We’ll look after you, mate!”

“No, you can’t. I could fight those three. But I couldn’t have fought all seven of them. I’m out of my depth. I’m going into hiding again.” And he marched down the hill into the village. 

“Sir! Stop! Please stop!” two voices called across the village square to Atificat. Not in synchronized unity, you understand. They said mostly the same words in a varied, overlapping manner, but enough about that. Despite these two voices addressing him, Atificat kept on walking. 

Tergen and Maj caught up with him and walked along beside him. “It’s Atificat, right?” Maj said. 

“We’ve travelled from Bridgeside. We understand that you with the fair at that point,” Tergen outlined. 

“So what if I was?” Atificat questioned, still walking out of the village and into a thicket, and still not looking at his two new companions. “That was weeks ago.”

“A boy died,” Tergen explained. 

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“He fell down a hole in a cave behind a waterfall!” Maj said, gathering aggression. “I found him with a map that led him right to it! And he must have got that from you because you told the story to him. And now because of your story and foolishness, many more people have died! It’s your fault!” Maj and Tergen stopped, hoping that Maj’s words would force Atificat to stop. But he didn’t. “How can you just -” And Maj broke down into tears, sitting on a tree stump in the thicket.

Tergen trotted to catch up with Atificat and forcibly stopped him. “Please, Atificat. We haven’t come to blame you or seek vindication or revenge or anything like that. I am part of a secret society called the Keepers of the Crowns.” This made Atificat stop. The sun, high in the sky, shone through the over-hanging branches and leaves, creating a dark, yet graceful ambience. “Our aims are to find the twenty-nine enchanted Crowns and protect them from our rival group, Crowners of the Light, who seek to use the Crowns for selfish purposes. In the cavern where the boy died was a woman wearing a Crown. She was centuries old and the Crown she wore was the Crown of Immortality. And we followed the trail from Angus to you. We just want to find out anything we can about the Crowns to protect our land. Will you help us?”

Atificat replied, “The Crowners have pursued me so many times. I’m tired of my life being chased and threatened. I’ll help you. You can count on me. But I need to know that you won’t leave me to the wolves. I need protection. You need to help me too. Understood? Good. Let’s go then.”

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.