RRR*, version 2006.6, Part 3 (The Etheterre Chronicles)

Also known as The Codex Aetherica

Now at the editing stage; continued from Part Two.

*Round-Robin ‘Riting.

Date: August 30, 2007

Author: Robert Coontz (Administrator)

Categories: Fiction, poetry, and fanfiction

Comments RSS TrackBack 105 comments

1

the man for aeiou

in August 30th, 2007 @ 19:43

wow! I just sugeted this therd two seacond ago!

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the man for aeiou

in August 30th, 2007 @ 19:45

can I read it so I can help edit?

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Alice

in August 30th, 2007 @ 20:29

More editing! Eek! Yay! Help! Canix, go at once to the random thread and read comment 148! I know that’s off topic, but it’s kind of important and Canix probably wouldn’t check the pertinent thread…

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the man for aeiou

in August 30th, 2007 @ 20:41

and can we please edit!

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Alice of the Blackberries

in August 30th, 2007 @ 22:40

4- THF needs to post the story first.

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the man for aeiou

in August 31st, 2007 @ 16:19

5- whats taking her so long?!

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Prarilius Canix

in August 31st, 2007 @ 16:24

TAIWAN HIPPO FAN! PLEASE CLICK ON MY NAME!
THF, would you do us the kindness of posting the Keeper’s Edition of The Codex Aetherica? We need it before we can start editing.

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the man for aeiou

in August 31st, 2007 @ 16:36

7- you can not have links in your name.

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Prarilius Canix

in August 31st, 2007 @ 17:15

There is no link. I intended her to see it in the Recent Comments bar, click on it, and be brought to this thread.

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10

the man for aeiou

in August 31st, 2007 @ 19:29

9-ah. this therd, and the new rrr, are slow.

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Prarilius Canix

in August 31st, 2007 @ 19:41

10- Muchly.
THF posted part of the story on the last thread. I’ll paste it in here.
#

54. Taiwan Hippo Phan ï¿½|ï¿½ January 28th, 2007 at 6:20 pm

Here it is, all 17892 words of it:

The rain slashed down in sheets, soaking the small, stocky, black-haired boy below. A sudden flash of lightning illuminated him and the parchment scroll he carried, the scroll that could decide the destiny of thousands. The thunder growled like a wild beast as he ran down the path. He was concentrating on being fast and did not notice the person in front of him until he almost ran him over.
“Sorry sir, didn’t see you there. Are you? Oh.”
“I take it, she’s been born.”
“I dunno sir. I was told to take this to you.”
The man took the scroll from him and observed it rapidly.
ï¿½I thought so. Come, my apartment is just around the corner. You can fix yourself something to eat. But don’t disturb me.”
He began to walk the boy following him down the rain soaked city streets.

Chapter One

Bring! Bring! “@#%! Alarm” Elanor exclaimed, still half asleep. She looked at the clock.
ï¿½Why is it so early? It’s not supposed to go off for another hour. Oh. Wait. Never mind.ï¿½ She glanced down at the small square of paper – no, parchment – in her hand. Rose cafe 4 pm DON’T BE LATE. She had been at the local bookstore purchasing a book when, along with the receipt, this message was given to her. She had no clue what it meant or whether it was a good idea but curiosity overcame her.
She had rolled over and was about to fall back asleep when the alarm clock rang again. Dang, she thought, pressed snooze instead of off. Deciding it best to get up, she dressed herself, got ready for school, and started the long trek to her school, the middle school in her area. She had skipped a couple grades, being smarter than the average bear, and had started trumpet the previous year. Carrying her trumpet and backpack, she ran out of the door with a half-warmed-up pop-tart in her mouth, which her mother had handed her, even though she knew Elanor hated them.
ï¿½ Wow, I sure hope I won’t be late for school,ï¿½ she thought, knowing that if she was, she would be stopped by the school bulliesï¿½again.
Sure enough, just as she rounded the corner, she heard the school bell ring in the distance. It was too late. Maybe she could hideï¿½ But no, before the bell’s obnoxious clang even stopped resonating in her mind, Brogan and his cohorts sauntered into view. Chewing furiously on the last bit of pop tart, she tucked the odd parchment into her coat pocket. She didn’t want to loose this mysterious note, or forget about the odd appointment. Then, there was nothing to do but wait.
“Well, here comes snooty-girl,” sneered Brogan as he approached. “Out for a walk alone, are we?”
His friends sniggered stupidly. Elanor would have felt nothing but contempt if she had not been cornered.
“This is our turf,” Brogan snarled. “You never learn, do ya? I guess I’ll have to teach y- OOMPH!”
Something had just struck Brogan in the chest. Elanor quickly looked toward the roof, but whoever had thrown it had run away. Elanor looked at the still Brogan. The object seemed to be a large math textbook. His cronies, Dumb and Dumber in her mind, had stood there for a second, while getting over their shock, then quickly ran away scared of more textbooks falling from the sky. She blinked, looked around, and saw no one. Continuing on her way, she prepared herself for the yelling she was bound to get from her band teacher, an overzealous young woman who played the saxophone, named Miss Caraly, otherwise known as Miss C. When she reached the band room, she heard music. “Oh no! They’ve already started on the music!” she cried, and ran in with her “unexcused” tardy note.
Elanor was not the sort to be afraid of the unknown. Whoever had thrown the book had thrown it at the bullies, not at her. She would have been hit if that person had wanted her to be. She fearlessly called out,” Who are you?ï¿½ Nobody answered. “I’m serious! Tell me who you are!ï¿½ The silence was getting on her nerves. She got the sense that no one was listening. Yet something had thrown the books. Elanor frowned and looked around her. The only person in sight was that homeless woman on the corner, but she was always there. Oh well. She could investigate later. Right now she had to get to school. As she hurried along, she missed the piece of parchment that flew out of her pocket and danced in the autumn breeze.
Elanor sprinted into the auditorium and hastily assembled her trumpet. Surprisingly nobody noticed that she had arrived late or had not been there at all. Suddenly she remembered the parchment and checked her pocket. It wasn’t there. She spent the rest of the period fidgeting and wondering when she could go look for it.
Maybe it’s in the other pocket, she wondered. He coat was rather long and did have a great number of pockets after all. After band she’d check all of them. Her next class was creative writing with her favorite teacher so she’d have time then.

Chapter Two

In creative writing, however, she was destined to be disappointed. [ ï¿½ I think that this is not a very good beginning of a chapter, but I think that the chapter ought to begin here. Most of the chapter beginnings in the story do not have any good beginnings, but I didnï¿½t want to change anything yet. What do you think? ï¿½ THF] This day, of all days, was the day her teacher had gotten sick. They had a substitute! Usually, this meant goofing around. But not this time.
ï¿½Elanor, please kindly sit down and do the ten math equations I put on the board. Creativity will come more easily to you once you have done some geometry and calculus,ï¿½ said Mr. Blithe (a name that didnï¿½t fit him in the slightest).
Luckily, she was in calculus, and was the most advanced in her class.
When she finished five minutes later, however, Mr. Blithe did not seem pleased.
ï¿½You must have cheated. No ten-year-old can do calculus that quickly. Here, I will give you ten more questions, and THIS time, sit at the front, where I can watch you,ï¿½ he said disapprovingly.
Elanor sighed. ï¿½Why do I have to be so smart?ï¿½ she mumbled, while the class giggled as she walked to the front of the room to do her arithmetic.
As she did the rest of her problems under the disapproving stare of Mr. Blithe, she suddenly felt something wriggling in her pocket! Disgusted, she reached in and pulled out by the tail one of the schoolï¿½s many mice, which was chewing on the lost piece of parchment! Elanor quickly pulled the parchment away from it then tossed the mouse away from her. Unfortunately it landed on Mr. Blitheï¿½s head.
Mr. Blithe (who was busy yelling at another kid) didnï¿½t even notice as the mouse crawled into his huge mass of hair. But the students didï¿½
ï¿½Why are you laughing?ï¿½ He growled ï¿½is this some childish PRANK of yours, or are you just being IMMATURE, as so many children seem to be?ï¿½ He paused, glaring at the class. ï¿½YOU!ï¿½ He shouted. Elanor jumped. ï¿½I know itï¿½s your fault. Two hours after school today. Running laps.ï¿½
ï¿½Butï¿½ï¿½
ï¿½I donï¿½t care.ï¿½
ï¿½But you donï¿½t even know what sheï¿½s DONE!ï¿½
ï¿½It doesnï¿½t matter. She was bad. And now she will pay.ï¿½ He smiled.
The rest of the day passed slowly. Elanor had never been kept after school before. What would her mother think? And how was she supposed to go to the Rose Cafe at four?
After school let out at three, she made her way down to the track. Mr. Blithe was waiting for her. The mouse, (still in his hair) was too. And, without saying a word, Elanor started running, her backpack slung over one shoulder. However, she was not running in the right direction. ï¿½Stop!ï¿½ Mr. Blithe puffed, chasing after her. But Elanor (of course) did not. She had to get to the cafe. If she made it there, them it would be a sort of sign, she thought. A sign that she was not destined to become a secretary shut in an office all day, or a cashier, or a waitress. It would be a sign that she would become something different. Something exciting. Something worthwhile. But first she had to evade Mr. Blithe. And evade the mouse, she supposed, who was still perched atop this head, clinging madly to his hair.
She ran through the city, taking the most confusing route to The Rose that she could think of. Mr. Blithe fell farther and farther behind, and the last thing she heard him say was:
ï¿½Time falling the pools iceï¿½ Or, at least that was what it sounded like. Elanor finally reached the swinging wooden sign that hung over The Roseï¿½s entrance, looked around for Mr. Blithe (he was not in sight), and ducked indoors.

Chapter Three

Meanwhile, the dark-haired parchment bearer of a decade ago was reclining in a chair and waiting. He wondered if the girl would come. He wondered what she’d be like. He wondered if she’d have the nerve to choose ï¿½ if she’d be different from her father.
When she arrived, his hopes fell. She was soï¿½ unlikely. Small and diminutive and preoccupied. But at least she had come.
ï¿½Elanor!” he called.
She started and came over to him.
ï¿½How are you?” he asked politely.
ï¿½Well, not that great.” she told him dejectedly. “Look, I don’t mean to be rude, but who are you?”
ï¿½You can call me Lance.” he sighed. She didn’t seem rightï¿½
“Soï¿½ why are we meeting here?ï¿½ Elanor asked.
ï¿½ï¿½Because I need you to help me- help us. You see ï¿½” Lance was cut short by a yell. “That’s her!”
ï¿½%&*@.ï¿½ Sighing, he grabbed Elanor’s hand and ran. But he was slow, impeded by surprise and her added weight. He had only made it to the next street when they caught him. Heï¿½d thought they were the regular policemen, but it turned he was wrong. He swallowed uncomfortably. The king was taking an interest. Things had just gotten a lot more complicated.
I guess I’ll have to take the short cut, he thought.
“What shortcut?” asked Elanor.
“Sorry, must have been thinking out loudï¿½” he said, “this way!”
Elanor had a bit of trouble catching up to him as, though she enjoyed fencing and acting, running wasn’t her favorite activity. All those laps at fencing paid off though and she managed to follow him as he darted into an archway and tapped something. The wall started to open and Elanor could see an elevator going down.
Lance leapt onto the escalator, dragging Elanor behind him. The wall shut with a deliberate crunch, and the pair were plunged into absolute darkness.
The elevator seemed to speed up, but it was hard to tell whether it was moving or everything else was moving past it. Elanor felt a sudden rush of nausea, but fortunately the elevator stopped promptly. A door slid open, sending a blast of cold air and brilliant light into the alcove.
Elanor looked around and realized that she was in the Rose Cafe. She had been there before, as it was a favorite meeting place of hers and her friends’. The door swung shut behind her with a loud thump. EMPLOYEES ONLY, it said.
Suddenly, a man straightened up from his bent position behind the counter. It was hard to tell how old he was, as his hair was completely white, but his face was smooth and unwrinkled. It didn’t look like the fake, too-perfect smoothness achieved by wrinkle creams, either. Elanor had seen him before- Mr. Roglea, owner of the Rose Cafe.
ï¿½What are you doing here?” he said as he swung around. “We’re close- Oh! Lance! Sorry. I see you’ve brought Elanor, too. Excellent work!”
Elanor refused to go any farther without knowing something. “What is going on here?” she demanded.
Lance and Mr. Roglea looked at each other for a moment. “We’ll have to tell her,” Lance said. “After all, her father-”
“What do you know about my father?ï¿½ Elanor interrupted.
Mr. Roglea replied to Lance as though he had not heard Elanor. “Of course we’ll have to,” he said. “As the last heir, she deserves to know.”
Elanor didn’t enjoy being completely in the dark while everybody acted as though they were infinitely wise. She wanted answers, and she wanted them now.
Elanor finally managed to tear her arm out of Lance’s grip. She turned around to glare at him.
Oops, he thought. She’s one of those emotional girls.
This girl was staring daggers at him now. She didn’t seem so short and chubby now. “Who are you, what do you want?” she demanded, trying to pull the shake out of her voice. “Lance,” he answered promptly. There’s something he knew. “And, erï¿½ It’s a long story. You see, your dad-” “I don’t have a dad,” Elanor said dismissively. “You’re one of those jerks from school, aren’t you? Trying to rub it in. Yeah, it’s not my fault, ok? Go be a jerk at my mom, leave me alone. It was her choice.ï¿½ ï¿½ No,” said Lance hastily. He was supposed to be able to explain something to her. Remember inside Lance? He mentally harried himself. Find him, quickly. His panic wasn’t unfounded, either. Elanor was looking murderous. “Than what do you want?ï¿½ She growled again, and than paused.
Something was changing about the boy in front of her. His curly mop of onyx hair didn’t look so dorky anymore, and his milked-down coffee skin looked less uptight and more exotic and interesting. The biggest change was his eyes. Though she’d only been able to see them once before she’d been whisked off on his wild goose chase, they weren’t just deep brown like she’d thought. They seemed to have flecks of gold, like some odd overtoneï¿½ He looked serious. Handsome, almost. [I think this would be a wonderful place for a new chapter ï¿½ but itï¿½s so close to the other one. Iï¿½d like to know what you guys think. Iï¿½m not going to say anything along the lines of ï¿½What do you guys think?ï¿½ Iï¿½m just going to say it, and I expect feedback.]
Inside Lance, thought, well, Lance. Just in time. “Your father came from a different place. A place very different from here. He met your mother by accident, but he couldn’t stayï¿½ he had to go. He left you this.ï¿½ Lance buried his hand in the deep pockets of the black trench coat he was wearing, and after some rummaging, he pulled something out. A thin gold chain, with a locket hanging off it. He casually tossed it to Elanor.
The locket was made of a silvery substance that felt unnaturally cool against Elanor’s skin. It was unengraved on the outside, but when she pried open the heart she saw a message written in a cursive-y flowing script. The message read:
Elanor,
Remembering your past is the key unlocking your destiny.
ï¿½Oh, greatï¿½ thought Elanor. ï¿½Really clears things up.ï¿½ On the other side, she saw a picture of a man. The picture showed him having golden brown hair, like hers, and the same sort of round chin. She felt she knew him, and then she realized he must be her father. She looked back up at Lance and Mr. Roglea.
“My dadï¿½?” croaked Elanor. Her mouth had gone dry. Lance cleared his throat. “His name was Atherton Wing. He lived where I live.ï¿½ ï¿½ Where’s that?” questioned Elanor, still staring at the serious looking man in the locket. “Do you want to come and find out?” asked Lance quietly, glancing at Mr. Roglea, who nodded. “Ok,” said Elanor. She knew she shouldn’t – she had English in five minutes, and her mom would hate her forever – but something told her that her teacher and the boy in front of her were to be trusted. And insatiable curiosity drew her in. She wanted to know about her father, why he’d left, why he’d never even bothered to see her born. “Nikolas?ï¿½ Elanor looked up, and found that Mr. Roglea was nodding. Nikolas Roglea, then. Nikolas pulled a marble sphere out of his pocket. It was in oddly shimmering shades of rose like pink, yellow oranges, and hazy, swirled traces of reddish tones. The odd thing was, it seemed to be shifting and spiraling, all contained under a sheet of clear lacquer. “3ï¿½2ï¿½1,” muttered Lance, and than the entire shabby alcove was engulfed in bright, warmly colored light. Elanor couldn’t see anything except for the dark silhouette of Lance as he shouted, “Sh-” Elanor didn’t hear the rest as the room suddenly disappeared, and she found herself somewhere very, very dark.

Chapter Four

As her eyes adjusted to the gloomï¿½Wait, that was wrong. Her eyes weren’t adjusting. Everything just stayed that utter, impenetrable black. Though Elanor wasn’t at all afraid of the dark, this wasn’t dark in the normal sense of the word. It was void, an infinite hole in her universe that had to be filled. Apparently, she was the filling.
“Lance?” she said, her voice quivering. No matter how smart or brave or talented she was, she was still ten years old. Ten years weren’t enough to prepare her for this. She had a feeling that twenty, fifty, a hundred still wouldn’t fill that other void, the void of experience.
Elanor thought that maybe Lance was putting a hand over her mouth, but she couldn’t tell because it wasn’t like a hand at all, sort of a bunch of air that had somehow thickened and was now trying to smother her. Despite her fear, Elanor was angry: how did anyone think she’d be ready for this sudden lack of a world? Sometimes when the bullies were feeling particularly uninventive, they’d pull her chair out while she was sitting down; this was a little like that. Normal was the chair, Lance and Mr. Roglea were the bullies, and she was herself.
And then, suddenly, everything exploded. Elanor could feel her insides twisting through her gut and becoming her outsides, her arms stretching through her sides, grasping at herself and missing, stretching out into mile-long toothpicks. It didn’t hurt.
Even through the walls of her own flesh, she could see that all the dark had turned to light; she was transparent. It’s like an inverse in math: everything^-1.
And then she was the right way out and her arms were the right length and she could see herself and she could see the details of her surroundings, which were exactly the same. By all appearances, she had been flipped through dark, light, and herself, and everything was exactly the same. The old clock on the wall still said 4:19.
“What was that?” she asked Mr. Roglea.
“Come outside,” he said.
As the door swung open, Elanor felt like her eyes were about to pop out of her head.
ï¿½This is Etheterre, where all possibilities are realized,” said Mr. Roglea. “The Rose Cafe is one of the few places that is exactly the same in both Reality and Etheterre- there’s one on every continent. Your father was ruler here.”
Normally, Elanor would have replied with a cynical remark, but she was too busy staring.
ï¿½Sadly,” Mr. Roglea continued, “Atherton was killed by someone who wanted power so badly that he would do anything to get it. I brought your mother to Reality to escape this person. You were born shortly after she crossed over. Lance brought the news to me, and since then, he hasn’t let me down once.”
Elanor only half-heard Mr. Roglea’s statement. In Reality, the Rose Cafe was the only classy thing on an otherwise grimy street. In Etheterre, it was one of many strange and wonderful shops with unpronounceable names and unidentifiable merchandise. All of these buildings were lined up on a road made of shimmering crystal, which hung in midair, twisting and turning as it connected two giant silver towers. Each tower had a multitude of crystal roads branching off of it and interweaving. “Welcome to Labarynth City,” Lance said. “The last stronghold against the Usurper.”
Just then, an enormous thump shook the Rose Cafe to its foundations. Mr. Roglea spun around, saying, “Ah, it’s here. I wondered when it would come.”
A book was lying on the counter, golden dust motes swirling around it. The title, to all appearances, was “Teas from around the Globe”, but, as Elanor stared, it shimmered suddenly. For the shortest instant, the words “Codex Aetherica” hung above the cover in letters of silver flame. Then it looked normal again. Mr. Roglea opened it carefully. “Tea!” he said. “Tea – Did you see anything, Elanor?”
ï¿½Sort ofï¿½what do you mean?”
ï¿½This is a strange book. It changes.” he whispered. “Look at it, and you’ll see what you should see. But only when you need to see it.”
ï¿½Codex Aetherica?” she asked cautiously. “What? I didn’t see much. And why did I need to see that?”
Lance cut in. “Just wait. You’ll see.”
“The Codex Aetherica,” Mr. Roglea continued, “is an artifact of ancient Etheterre, when the boundaries between it and Reality were easily crossed, and we didn’t need these tiresome gateway nexi and transfer marbles. It is more like a living thing than a book, and manifests itself in different books, both in Etheterre and Reality. When people stopped believing in the fantastic, the two realms split completely, with only thin threads of connecting places left. The Codex was captured under a powerful spell by the mages of Etheterre’s first king a few millennia ago. It now manifests itself in the book closest to the true heir.”
Elanor thought back to the morning- it seemed ages ago- when a math textbook had apparently jumped off the roof of the school and struck Brogan in the chest.
Elanor told this story aloud. “But,” she concluded, “The book hit Brogan, not meï¿½. Are you sure you didn’t get the wrong person?”
Mr. Roglea laughed. “No,” he said, “it hit Brogan to keep you safe. That is one of its other powers. Protecting the true heir.”
Lance said, “Yes, and now it will keep you safe. You are to keep it with you at all times. In this world, and in Reality. It is your way between worlds. With this, you don’t need to travel to the Rose Cafeï¿½but it only works for you.”
“But, if it only works for me, what’s the point?ï¿½ Elanor began. “I mean, what I do while I’m back and forth if no one is there with me?”
ï¿½Well, that doesn’t matter. See, with the book, no one can harm you.” said Mr. Roglea.
ï¿½But I still know nothing about this!” she wailed. “How do you expect me to do all of it if I still don’t understand what it is?!?!”
ï¿½Um, Elanorï¿½let us explain.” said Mr. Roglea.
ï¿½People want you. People that want to control Etheterre.” interrupted Lance.
Mr. Roglea added, “Some are only in Etheterre, some can come to Reality. But you need to keep the land safe, because you are the heir.”
“Nearly all of these people,” Lance added, “are controlled by the Usurper- the man who killed your father.”
Elanor was finding this hard to take in. She had never known her dad, and her mother never really seemed to want to talk about him.
ï¿½I don’t get it,” she said. “If Dad had this Codex thing, then how did the Usurper manage to kill him? I don’t think that it’s as all-powerful as you seem to think.”
“Well, the power is controlled by a certain force called Imaganruis was being attacked by the Usurpers, the enemy when your father was killed. But Imaganruis survived, and became much stronger – because you were born.ï¿½ Explained Mr. Roglea
“What’s so special about me? I know, I’m the heir, but the heir is just a title. It’s not like the world didn’t explode because there was a certain girl on the Earth, is it?”
ï¿½ No, it isn’tï¿½you were born on Etheterre. That’s what made you so important.”
Then my motherï¿½? Elanor trailed her sentence, as though she couldn’t complete the thought.
ï¿½Yes.ï¿½ Lance answered
“But if she lived here, why did she come to Earth? Why didn’t she ever tell me about this?ï¿½ Elanor was practically screaming. Both men could tell her temporary rage could become full hysteria if they didn’t calm her down.
ï¿½Your mother had to go to Earth, to keep you safe.ï¿½ Mr. Roglea explained softly. “She had no choice, just as your father had no choice but to stay in Etheterre.”
“You see,” Lance said, “Imaganruis was the force that created Etheterre.”
ï¿½ What does that have to do with my father?!ï¿½ Elanor was literally screaming now.
ï¿½Well,” Lance continued, looking a little uncomfortable, “Zefeth-”
He didn’t get any farther, because Mr. Roglea had gagged him. “Don’t say that name!” he snarled.
ï¿½Ahem- the leader of the Usurpers somehow found a way to attack Imaganruis. With Etheterre crumbling around him, Atherton did something extremely brave. He turned the full protective power of the Codex over to Imaganruis. It saved Etheterre, but the Usurpers didn’t want to destroy Etheterre. They wanted to control it.
ï¿½While the Codex was occupied otherwise, the Usurpers killed Atherton.
“They maimed him horribly, and tossed him in a shallow grave that is now covered with asphalt. He died a torturous death. But, with his departure, there was a new life. His life force was added to that book.”
ï¿½ His what?ï¿½ Elanor was regaining her normally cynical ways. The initial shock had worn off, and she was starting to be hungry. Her stomach gave a loud rumble.
“When Atherton died,” Mr. Roglea continued, “the Codex immediately manifested itself in your home, you being the next heir. Your mother realized what had happened and came to me. You were only a few days old then, and Lance was around ten, only a poor messenger boy. He was the one who brought me news of your birth. I was a good friend of your father, and so I took you and your mother to Reality. It was the least I could do. I was simply a second-rate mage back then-”
“Wait,” Elanor interjected. “You are actually saying that you are a wizard?”
ï¿½ One of the many terms that the Realities used for people of my profession,” Mr. Roglea replied. “I took Lance on as my apprentice. I could see from the time I first met him that he had talent.”
ï¿½ Okay,” Elanor said skeptically. “Why not just magic this Usurper away, then?”
ï¿½ I doubt that you understand,” Lance said. “Spells often require hours of preparation, and no spell in either universe could harm a hair on the head of the Usurper.”
ï¿½ Why not?ï¿½ Elanor asked.
“The Usurper is not just a normal person, Elanor.ï¿½ Explained Mr. Roglea. “By killing your father, he became one of the most powerful leaders the Usurpers ever had. You see, the Usurpers have been around since almost the begging of Etheterre. But before your father’s death, we were always able to keep them at bay.”
“The Usurpers don’t play fair, if you haven’t noticed.ï¿½ Said Lance, almost mockingly. “They don’t care if they hurt people. They have magic, too, but theirs is filled with evil of their past deeds. Recycled. When a mage dies, usually his magic dies with him. He’s born with it and he dies with it. But the Usurpers have found a way to suck the magic out of someone. This magic is tainted, evil, but magic nonetheless. Every generation they grow stronger and stronger, providing more and more resistance. Their magic is like a shield over them that push on the shield over us. Now, their shield extends much farther than ours. And as long as they have the Usurper, it won’t ever go away. No one has ever penetrated this shield, and only one person will ever be able to.”
“Who?” asked Elanor?
ï¿½You,” replied Lance. “Once a ruler of Etheterre learns how to use the Codex to its full potential, there isn’t a power that can stand against him- or her.”
ï¿½ Excuse me,” said Elanor, “But I have no idea how to use this thing. I’m only ten, and you expect me to save a world that I didn’t even know about till 15 minutes ago?”
Her statement’s dramatic effect was somewhat spoiled due to the fact that her stomach emanated a rumble that would have done credit to a cave bear.
Mr. Roglea laughed. “It’s about time for lunch, anyhow. We can all plan better on full stomachs.”
Elanor was seized with a sudden misgiving. “Um- what exactly do you eat here?” she asked.
Lance grinned. “You’ll find out.”

[Hmï¿½ Iï¿½m thinking itï¿½s about time for another chapterï¿½ but I really donï¿½t knowï¿½ the beginning is absolutely awful for the beginning of a chapterï¿½. *fretfret* ]

They approached a restaurant. Elanor looked up. The sign read ï¿½Lileteï¿½ Pelisarn'” She wondered what it could mean. As they stepped inside, a creature about 5ft 2 was standing with its back turned. It was orange and light seemed to radiate from it, it turned around. “Why hello there!ï¿½ Elanor screamed, but after taking a look at the creature, she forgot why. It had what seemed a human face of a woman. The creature had green hair that looked to thick to be hair, it fell only to the middle of the neck, and it seemed that each strand was moving. Its eyes where bright purple, and ears that looked like squiggles protruded from the sides of its head. The creature bent down and took Elanor’s hand and gently shook it. “Is this the girl?ï¿½ She looked up at lance. “Yes.ï¿½ He said softly. “My goodness!ï¿½ Her race lighted up. I must prepare a-” “Relax.ï¿½ Lance said. “We’re just here for lunch.”
“Oh!” she said. “Just lunch? But there’s so much to do, so much, all of the things that we’ll have to catch up on, and I’ll have to teach her all I know! How can you just have lunch at a time like this?”
ï¿½ You’ll get to have some time with her, I believe. She’ll need all the help she can get, with her missions. But not now. We’re all tired.”
ï¿½ Fine! But at least I get to give you all a spectacular lunch!” she exclaimed. “Hmph!”
ï¿½ Intinier, she’s had a rough day. We need to keep a slow pace here. You don’t want to overwhelm her, do you?”
“If you don’t want to overwhelm me, you haven’t done a good job,” said Elanor. “I have never felt so confused in my life.”
Mr. Roglea simply smiled. “Elanor, meet Intinier, best phagomage in Labarynth City.”
ï¿½ Umï¿½ phagomage? What in the world is that? [I believe that is an unnecessary sentence.]” asked Elanor.
ï¿½A magician specializing in food,” Lance said. “Intinier is also one of the few beings who reads the ancient script of Etheterre, which is what the Codex is written in.”
Intinier suddenly yelled over her shoulder. “Woodle, get in here!”
A small, hovering ball of blue fur with a long, whippy tail rocketed out from the back of the restaurant. It came to a sudden halt about six inches from Elanor’s nose, bobbing in midair. “Tayb’l fo’ tree?” it chittered. “Gutengurger! Falla mi.”
“What’s he saying?” Elanor whispered to Lance.
“Woodle, this is Elanor.” Intinier introduced the small creature, who turned to look at Elanor, and then back at Intinier, as if he didn’t believe her.
“Woodle is a Xixin, one of several species of beings that live in Etheterre. He speaks Lillix, one of the most common languages of the region. He’s very suspicious of strangers, sorry if he seemed rude.”
“Woodle, take our guests to a table,” said Intinier. The Xixin complied, leading them through the restaurant. He stopped at an area empty of furniture. Elanor raised her eyebrows as Lance calmly sat down on thin air.
FLOOP.
A section of mahogany bench unfurled itself from nothingness and prevented Lance from landing on the floor. Mr. Roglea sat down as well, with the same result.
Elanor tried to detect something that they had done, but she couldn’t see anything.
“Come on, Elanor! Have a seat!” Lance said casually.
“Umï¿½what? Where would you like me to do that?” she replied cautiously.
“Just sit down! Come on, it’s not hard!”
“Okayï¿½”
Elanor sat on air. It was quite comfortable. But unlike Mr. Roglea’s and Lance’s air benches, it was completely invisible. Or was it just air?
“My gosh, Elanor, you’ve done it! That’s not an easy thing to do, you know. Lance and I have to make something appear. But you can just sit right down on air! And do you know what that means?” Mr. Roglea exclaimed, barely able to contain himself.
“No – ”
“It means that with some practice, you’ll be able to fly, just like your father! Wow. Just imagine what you could do with that.” Mr. Roglea sat back and marveled.
Not for the first time that day, Elanor was stunned. “My father could fly?”
“The royalty of Etheterre are often born with unusual abilities,” said Mr. Roglea. “Your great-grandfather was known for-”
He broke off in mid-sentence, staring into space. For a moment, cold shock was stamped across his features. Then he sagged forward, collapsing on the table.
“Nikolas!” gasped Lance. “What happened?”
“Zefethelyan,” Mr. Roglea muttered. “He sensed the Codex. He’s coming here.”

Chapter Five

Woodle bounced twelve feet into the air at this statement, then shot back towards the counter, making a noise like a terrified kettle. Intinier’s eyes hardened at the sight, and she reached down to pull a lever next to the cash register. There was a crackle, and sheets of blue light dropped across the windows and doors. “The Usurper will find the Lilete Pelisarn a tough loconut to crack,” the phagomage muttered, then snapped, “Nikolas! Pull yourself together!”
Outside the restaurant, a small clot of darkness gathered in the middle of the crystal road. It was absolute black and impenetrable to light. It grew in power and size with every passing shadow. Beasts of burden shied away from it. The various creatures on the street dispersed uneasily, and soon it was completely deserted.
The shadow reared up and stretched into a vague form like a shapeless cloak. Two pale hands, decked with platinum rings, emerged from under it and reached upward. With a sudden, violent motion, the cloak’s hood was thrown back. Elanor, crouching inside the Lilete Pelisarn, saw for the first time the face of the man who had killed her father.
Zefethelyan had the same ageless look as Mr. Roglea, but his skin was the same chalk-white as his hair. Red eyes glittered like garnets beside his sculpted Roman nose, and his thin-lipped mouth curled upward into an amused smile as he raised his left hand.
Nothing seemed to happen at first. Then one of the cookbooks on Intinier’s shelf glowed a livid green. It seemed to be screaming Danger! Elanor felt a wave of nausea pass over her. The Codex- for so the book had become- propelled itself through the air, skidding to a halt in front of the girl. A horrible vibration rattled the protective screens in front of the windows.
“Shoot,” Intinier said. “Are there any mages here?”
Two hands- Mr. Roglea’s and Lance’s- went into the air. And a paw. And a tentacle.
“Good,” the phagomage said. “We have enough for a pentacle. Are all of you familiar with the von Urchen field?”
A chorus of affirmatives came from around the restaurant.
“That was one of the first things Twiggnth taught me! He knew what he was doing.” said the pawed mage. He was a small furry creature, with a square turquoise nose and enormous violet eyes. He had his own table, and he was sitting in a chair that was translucent – clearly he had been trained well.
All of a sudden the room was silent. Not that it hadn’t been before. But even Zefethelyan seemed to pause for a moment.
“Umï¿½” whispered the tentacled mage, “It’ll certainly help to have a mage trained by the father of Atherton in our von Urchen field, and I know that it’s amazing to find that out, but right now, we need to start.”
Elanor watched as the four mages and the phagomage began to circle the Lilete Pelisarn with a blinding silver light.
Just in time. A blast of crimson light impacted the window screens, ripping them to shreds. The Codex pulsed golden, sending five streams of power outward. Each one seeped into a mage’s chest, lighting up the torsos of the struggling spellcasters with a brilliant, lemon yellow radiance. The field grew more and more powerful. Elanor felt the energy crashing exultantly through her being. She was immersed in it, unable to stop it as it drowned out her petty fears and aggravations, even if she’d wanted to.
She didn’t intentionally speak the words that came out of her mouth. She simply concentrated on the Codex, and what she wanted done. The incantation followed naturally.
“Syldurva ethren kierna imblas! Vantres ionia!”
One layer of the von Urchen field uncoiled like a giant whip of silver. It lashed forward at a blinding speed, the very air around it crackling with power. Zefethelyan opened his mouth in shock a millisecond before the impact.
BBZZZZAAAKKKKK!!!!!!!!
The Usurper was tossed twenty feet into the air and fifty feet backward. Only his twisted shield of stolen magic prevented him from being turned into a pile of ash.
Zefethelyan fell into a small bookshop, starling its birdlike owner considerably. The Usurper got to his feet and paused for a second, his eyes blazing. The the entire bookshop burst into flames. Ancient tomes withered and crackled with sparks.
“Faust’s Inferno,”muttered Mr. Roglea. “But whyï¿½” His voice trailed off. Streaks of flame rocketed out from the blazing bookshop. targeting houses and stores apparently at random.
“He’s burning the books!” shouted Lance.
The Usurper smiled, his pale face turned an eerie orange by the dancing flames.
“Why is he doing this?” shouted Elanor.
“The Codex,” said Mr. Roglea grimly. “He’s trying to make sure that it has as few books to manifest in as possible.”
The fire spread. Labarynth City was beginning to burn.
“The von Urchen field only deflects magical assault!” yelled Intinier. “We’ll be incinerated!”
A hurtling comet of flame hit the front of the restaurant. The pawed mage dove out of the way to escape the flames. The circle was broken.
Zefethelyan raised a hand triumphantly. A hammerblow of magical force hit the Lilete Pelisarn. Elanor saw a whirlwind of disjointed images- a tendril of shadow reaching into the shattered restaurant, green flames leaping from Lance’s fingers, the Codex weaving a mantle of violet light in front of her, Woodle screaming in panicï¿½
Then darkness rose up around her, and she knew no more.

Chapter Six

Elanor woke to find herself in a dark cave. At least, she thought it was a cave given the darkness and dripping stalactites. Sitting up slowly, she heard some voices. They were talking about something, she could only vaguely remember what had happened. “Are you sure?” asked one of the voices, it sounded female. “Positive. There areren’t any books within ten miles that weren’t horribly charred. You know the only things that survived were in that resturant, and none of them were books.” She recognized this voice. Suddenly it dawned on her that it was Intinier and Lance. She started to get up painfully when they noticed her. “What happened?” she asked woozily as the two helped her up. “The Codex protected you and some of the resturant for a few seconds, just enough for us to get out of there.” Answered Lance. In the dim light Elanor could just barely see the soot and small wounds that covered her and the others. “Wheres Mr. Roglea and everyone else?” Elanor asked. Intiner bit her lip and looked downwards. Lance put his hand on Elanors shoulder. Nobody answered in what seemed like an eternity to Elanor. “Lance and I survived butï¿½” Intiner trailed off. “The only others were a Fenkin and you.” Lance finished for her. Elanor looked around and saw the furry mage from the resturant. He appeared to be unconscious, but breathing.”
The pawed mage- presumably a Fenkin- stirred. “Where are we?” he muttered.
“An old hideout of mine,” said Intinier. “I telelinked it to a trapdoor in the Lilete Pelisarn a few years ago in case things got nasty. Which they have. What’s your name, anyway? I haven’t seen you in my restaurant before.”
“Emburr du Kendomalin,” the Fenkin replied. “I was on the Xemoci Peninsula until recently, fighting Kaabne’s forces with the 12th Mage Platoon. I came to Labarynth City on leave. Speaking of which, is there anything left of Labarynth?”
“Not really. A couple of the foundation rods are still standing, but-”
Elanor tuned out. Her head was spinning. Mr. Roglea had always been amiable and supportive, kind to everyone who came into the Rose Cafe. Elanor had only found out who he really was a few hours ago, and now he was gone.
“WHAT?” Lance gasped, snapping Elanor back to the present.
“I don’t like it, but it’s true,” said Intinier. “The Rose Cafe is gone, and so is the gateway. Kolombent is no longer linked to Reality.”
“Oh, my. Oh, no! I want to get out of here!!!!! Whatï¿½howï¿½butï¿½” Elanor gasped. “It’s gone. But we’ll just hop on over to South America!”
“Erï¿½South America? You’ve been spending way too much time in Reality, haven’t you?” said Emburr. “Where exactly is South America?”
“Well, you knowï¿½right underneath North America, of course! You know. If you look at a map..” she quickly pulled a thin stalactite off the ceiling and drew the Americas of Reality on the cave floor and circled South America, “That’s South America. Don’t tell me you’ve never even heard of it.”
“Um, Elanor, Emburr’s probably never heard of South America. Have you been to Reality, Mr. du Kendomalin?”
“No. I’m a Fenkin, unfortunately. I lived in stinking Evencald for most of my life. It’s not as if [name of Usurper of Evencald here – please make him/her up soon!] would let anyone leave of free will.”
“Here,” said Intinier, “South America corresponds to Lillixa.”
“Oh,” Emburr said. “Why didn’t you just say so?”
Lance noticed Elanor’s perplexed expression and began to explain. “Every continent in Reality has a corresponding continent in Etheterre. That’s why the gateways work, because of the linked elemental signatures andï¿½ Look, it’s complicated. I’ll explain it some other time.”
“How will we get to Sou- I mean, Lillixa?” Elanor asked.
Emburr grinned. “Is there an acrotrain terminal nearby?” he asked.
“Um, I think so,” Intinier replied. “We’re under my hometown, a few miles away from Labarynth, but- Can you drive an acrotrain?”
“Of course,” Emburr said. “I was in the army, remember?”
“All right,” said Intinier doubtfully. “There’s a passage to the surface over here.”
The company proceeded up a narrow gap of damp granite. Luminous lavender crystals poked from the rock at intervals, forming almost the only handholds. When Intinier finally emerged, she was met with a stunning sight.
A smoking wasteland stretched as far as the eye could see. Flares of red and green light flickered on the horizon. A tall steel tower lay bent and crumpled a few yards away.
“He wrecked the terminal,” gasped Lance. “He was here too.”
“There’s still hope,” said Emburr. “The acrotrain’s still up there.”
Elanor looked up and saw what was apparently an old steam locomotive, with seven carriages, hanging in the air a few hundred feet up. Then she began to notice differences. A large balloon, presumably filled with a buoyant gas, was attached to each carriage. The locomotive had propellers instead of wheels.
“How do we get up there?” gasped Lance.
“Mad? We’re a bit mad, yes, but that gets you through many a situation, does it not?” said Emburr pleasantly, trying to get her to fly. Twiggnth had told him that he flew much more easily when he was a) in a good mood and b) the only thing to help – under pressure or when he just had to do something .
All it seemed to do was make her angrier. But desperacy sometimes worked! “Oh, my gosh. You aren’t seriously suggestingï¿½”
Lance leaned forward a bit and whispered, “Well, Elanorï¿½. sometimes that’s the best way to goï¿½”
“Fine! Mr. Roglea said ‘with practice,’ so I’ll be practicing for the next 730 days!” the extremely upset Elanor shouted.
She sat down, planning on sitting on the violet glowing dirt below her. Instead, she looked like a genie, sitting cross-legged in the air.
“Facinating! How do you do that, anyway?” the wide-eyed Fenkin exclaimed. Elanor didn’t know that the little creatures could make their eyes any larger.
“Do what?” she didn’t even know that she was sitting on air.
“Thï¿½thï¿½you knowï¿½.. sit on air? Twiggnth, in all of his lessons, never showed me that.”
“Oh, dear! Well, I don’t knowï¿½.”
Intinier spoke up. “Let her concentrate, Emburr.”
Elanor felt like she was gelatin, tumbling down a river of dust, accumulating all of the fine powder. Then she became more of a syrup, pouring slowly up into a vacuum cleaner. Then, she felt light as air, like a feather, drifting around, never falling, with no purpose.
She woke up from her dreamy [thoughts? feelings? what do you call that?] with a start.
“Well, now, are you done yet? That was quite a show, I must admit.”
“What did I- ” Elanor began to ask, then glanced down. She was hovering high in the air, about halfway to the acrotrain.
“That’s good!” Intinier called upward. “Keep going!”
Elanor tried to return to the dreamy mindset she had been in while flying, but it was hard. Unexpected thoughts kept popping into the blankness of her mind, creating the most unsettling sensations. She pinwheeled slowly in the air, shedding faint green sparks and feeling as though her chest cavity was filled with a few gallons of overcarbonated soda. Finally, though, she did it.
This time it was different. She remained sort of semiconscious, watching herself as though through rippled glass from a great height. She swung like an airborne pendulum a few times, then rocketed straight up, coming to a stop outside the locomotive.
“Great!” Emburr called. “Now step inside. There should be a rope ladder on the wall for emergency evacuations.”
As Elanor’s foot touched the floor, a jolt like an electric shock shot through her. She stumbled inside, feeling dizzy and nauseous.
It tottered threateningly, and then when she was really getting worried, it completely stopped moving. If she had been sweating, she would have wiped it from her brow. However, she hadn’t been, so she didn’t. [we can cut that part if you’d rather. I just thought it added at least a bit of missing humor.]
She cautiously stepped through the locomotive, looking for Emburr’s promised ladder. It was disguised well, and she didn’t find it until after she realized that she still had her backpack on.
Elanor fastened the rope ladder to two hooks just inside the doorway and threw it out. As it was several hundred feet long, it took several throws, but she finally managed it.
Emburr was the first to start climbing. “What did you fasten the ladder to?” he asked.
“Umï¿½ a couple of hooks on the wall over there,” Elanor replied.
“Sweet Imaganruis!!! Two hooks? TWO HOOKS? Are you quite serious?”
“Ummmï¿½ yesï¿½” Elanor was beginning to get nervous.
Emburr grinned. “Good. That’s where they’re supposed to go.”
Lance was almost halfway to the top. “I forgot to tell you, Elanor,” he shouted. “Fenkins are renowned for their sense of humor.”
Really, thought Elanor. Gee, I hadn’t noticed.
Lance reached the locomotive next, then Intinier. “All right, what’s our plan of action?” inquired Emburr once they were all inside.
Intinier spoke. “First part of the plan; we get this acrotrain to Lillixa and then to Kaabne’s fortress- Kaabne is one of Zefethelyan’s subordinates. He rules Lillixa,” she added for Elanor’s benefit. “Then we get past his guards and any defenses, and then into the gateway and into Reality. Lastly, we find a book in Reality so that Elanor has the Codex again. And we need to explain to Elanor’s mother.”
“The beginning and the end are great,” said Emburr. “But the middle will get us all killed. Do you have any idea of the size of Kaabne’s army??”
“Youï¿½re right.” Lance said bluntly. “We need help.”
“And I know just where to find it” Interner said slyly, grinning.

“Where?” Emburr and Elanor said, simultaneously.
“All right.” Intinier began, suddenly very serious. She reached into a hatch in the wall and pulled out a map of what appeared to be South America. The names of the rivers were different, though, and the cities were in the wrong places.
Intinier tapped the map near the mouth of a squiggly blue line labled “Nozama River.”
“When Woodle lived in Lillixa, he had a group of friends. It was, well, it was a book group.”
Elanor and even Emburr sniggered.
“I didn’t know Xixins liked to read.” Emburr commented politely, suddenly losing his laughter.
Intinier glared at him. “It wasn’t just any book group. It was the group of researchers for the Xixin Resistance.ï¿½
“They’ve been helpful to the Regency of Kolombent in the past,” said Emburr quizzically, “but there are only a few hundred of them. There are half a million in Kaabne’s army.”
“True,” said Intinier. “However, Woodle was a member of the Resistance in the past.” A shadow passed over Intinier’s face when she mentioned Woodle- it was literally a shadow, as the light radiating from her head dimmed. “He told me that they had discovered an ancient passage that may have led into Kaabne’s fortress. It was once the palace of a kind Xixin lord, you see, and he set up an escape route in case of attack. The exit to that route has been lost to time, since this was even before Etheterre was united under one king. But it may have been found again. Of course, if Woodle was right, the passage was long and tortuous, and may have been taken over by all manner of strange beasts since it was abandoned.”
“It’s better than fighting half a million Xixins,” Emburr said. “If you handle the maps, I can get you there.”

Intinier and Emburr bent over the map for nearly ten minutes, discussing things like zoal quantity and degrees of precessitude. The sky, already getting darker in a sort of bluish sunset, speedily faded to ebony black, sprinkled with multicolored stars in unfamiliar patterns.
Intinier straightened up suddenly. “Oh, Imaganruis! None of you have had anything to eat!”
“Relax, Intinier,” said Emburr. “Anyone could have forgotten- being attacked by a bloodthirsty egomaniac tends to make things slip one’s mind.”
“Unforgivable,” Intinier muttered. “I’m a phagomage , for Imaganruis’ sake.” She rummaged around in the multitude of pockets on her long, green, apronlike robe. “Does anyone have any sort of food at all?”
Emburr reached into the hatch again. “Umï¿½ a bottle of aquariol, eight Coldstane biscuits and a nobanana. Not much for dinner.”
“You’re talking to Intinier Carushaluk,” the phagomage replied. “I can make a meal out of anything.”
She pulled a complicated weave of metal from her largest pocket and flipped several clasps. The object expanded smoothly into a segmented pot. Intinier unfolded a tripod from beneath it and set it down on the floor. She snapped her fingers, and a long blue flame rose from the air below it with a hiss. Feeding the ingredients into it, she began to add spices and herbs from her various pockets, chanting a strange poem. “I’m going to get the acrotrain started,” said Emburr, shutting the door and climbing into a padded leather seat.
Elanor approached Intinier. “Anything I can do to help?” she asked.
The phagomage looked up, surprised at the offer of aid from such a cynical-seeming girl. “Thanks, but no,” she said. “You and Lance should go back in the carriage. I’ll be down there as soon as I finish this.”
Following Intinier’s advice, Elanor stepped out of the door in the back of the locomotive. She stood on the small platform outside it for a few seconds, clinging to the rail and staring at the ruined countryside below. She hadn’t realized how much devastation the Usurper had caused. No lights showed but the faint glow of still-burning flames. She was beginning to feel queasy.
“Why am I afraid of heights?” Elanor muttered. “I can fly , for heaven’s sakes.” Without further ado, she stepped across and entered the carriage.
It was, well, it was an interesting place. Not exactly what she would call home, but she could live with it. “How long will it take us to get there, anyway?” she asked
“Oh, sometimes it takes a week, sometimes it takes an hour. shouted Emburr from his seat. “It depends on the train’s mood.”
“A week?!?! Planes are so much more reliableï¿½ although I can’t say I like those much, either.” Elanor sighed, remembering her only trip when she was five. People kept on shouting, and it sounded like nonsense in her ears.It was creepy. And of course, it didn’t help that she had carsickness. It was miserable.
Emburr laughed. “Planes? You expect us to give you a plane? We’re better than planes. I can give you magic.” He stepped out of the seat for a moment and opened what appeared to be a tiny cupboard, no bigger than, well, Elanor didn’t have anything to compare it to. It was about the size of the Codex, inside Teas from Around the Globe. “There you are! Now, I’ll say that’s better than any plane. And if you don’t like planes, you’ll learn to like acrotrains. I promise.”
“What’s so great about it, then?” she asked, still feeling queasy.
“It’s the greatest magic Twiggnth can teach you, that’s what! Open it up, now, this is getting silly.”
“Open what?”
“The little Tiggtle in there! See, the little Fenkin-looking thing?”
“Oh, yeah. He’s cute.” Elanor said, trying not to smile. It was hard not to love the green-eyed furry creature.
“He’s just a statue. Pull his head off.”
“Pull his head off? Never! He’s too cute!”
“Trust me, it’s okay.” Emburr said blandly. “The only way the magic tries to not be used is by making it seem too good or too dangerous to open. It’s silly, really. Just pull it off. If you like it that much, we can Lik-u ((the equivelant to glue/tape – some sort of magical adhesive)) it back together.”
“Okayï¿½ ï¿½ Elanor looked at the box dubiously. “What’s inside?”
“How should I know?” replied Emburr.
“Whaï¿½ whaï¿½ you don’t know?”
“Of course not!” Emburr became serious. “Let me explain. I used to live in Evencald, that would be Africa in your world. It still makes me nostalgicï¿½ lovely pine trees, majestic glaciersï¿½” His enormous eyes became dreamy.
“GLACIERS??? In Africa?”
“The climate here is different. Anyway, the Usurper of Evencald- Athrana’s her name- has a great aptitude for inventing new spells. She captured Twiggnth and brought him to Evencald after Zefethelyan seized power. She then stripped him of his magic while he was still alive- we still don’t know how she did that, but she’s always been the best at magical theory among the Usurpers.”
Emburr broke off and pulled a large lever next to his seat. With a rumble, the acrotrain started to vibrate. A blue-green light lit up, pulsing with tints of gold.
“She imprisoned Twiggnth in an ice cave,” he continued over the roar of the engine. “I found it while I was exploring near my hometown. He could no longer do magic, so he poured out all of his knowledge into me.
“Athrana learned of this after a few years and sent a troop of mages to deal with Twiggnth and me. I escaped, but he was killed. Before he died, though, he gave me this box, saying it should- and could- only be opened by his grandchild.”
Elanor slowly opened the box. The lid fell open, exposing the contents.
Elanor was unimpressed. Judging from the gasp of awe that Emburr let out, though, the glass bottle filled with swirling golden liquid was pretty powerful.
“His life force,” Emburr whispered. “Now I see. He gave it up, knowing he was doomed. If we can get that into the Codex, we’ll be unstoppable.”
“If we can find it, that is. Should I try calling it, or something?” Elanor said dully. “Yoohoo! Codex! Come ‘ere!” She paused. “As if that would work.”
“Er, well, actually, Elanor, something similar to that should be sufficient.” Lance cut in.
“How do you know? If something could work, I would know!” shouted Emburr, a bit louder than Elanor thought an animal of his size, or most any size, could.
Swiftly and unexpectedly, Intinier emerged, carrying a pot of wonderful-smelling something. “My goodness. What’s all the fuss about?”
“Er, nothingï¿½” Lance and Emburr whispered simultaneously.
“Well, no matter what, you three need to eat. It’s hot Pingle soup. You should like it, Lance,” she said to the overly-unappetized-looking teenager. “You’ve never had it. Besides, you liked Pingley soup. It was invented by the same phagomage! Me! Now eat. We’ve got a long, er, amount of time ahead of us.”
“Well, actually, Intinierï¿½” interrupted the wide-eyed Fenkin.
“What? We don’t have a long time ahead of us?” Intinier asked, purely inquisitive.
“Look,” Emburr said. As one, the companions looked out the round windscreen of the locomotive.
Silhouetted against one of the rising moons, three small, round shapes darted out of sight.
“Xixin patrol, ” Lance said. “Kaabne is moving his forces out.”
“Great,” Elanor said, ducking. “We get to be right next to the cute floaty things. How fun.”
“It’s not a big deal, really. I mean, we have Twiggnth’s life force!” exclaimed Lance.
“You have what? ” Intinier gasped.
“The life force of Twiggnth Wing,” Lance repeated.
“Oh my gosh, if we can get that into the Codexï¿½” Intinier whispered.
“But we have to get to the Codex first,” Emburr said. “And that means getting to Reality, as the Usurpers have destroyed all books in Etheterre. And that means getting into the fortress of Kaabne. And that means getting to the passage. And that means getting into Lillixa unhindered. And that means,” he concluded, “getting rid of that patrol.”
The Fenkin suddenly grabbed a lever and pulled it all the way to the left. Propellers shrieking, the acrotrain spun around. Its carriages whipped towards the Xixins like the tail of an irritated cat, only faster and harder. The three floating creatures dove into the canopy of scorched treetops below. Emburr pulled the lever back to its original position. The vehicle shot forward, sending all but Emburr flying.
“She’s in a good mood,” the Fenkin said calmly. “We’ll get there by tomorrow. In the meantime, let’s all finish our soup and then get some sleep.”
By some miracle, the Pingle soup had not spilled a drop. Elanor picked her portion up and tasted a spoonful. It tasted like salsa and pickle relish, only with a lingering, citrusy-sweet aftertaste.
She took another bite. This time, it tasted just the same, but with more of a tropical taste. She had never had any tropical foods, and the taste didn’t seem any different, but somehow it seemed entirely different.
“Are you all right, Elanor? You look as if you’re not having the most heartwarming fevercooling dish ever created.” Intinier whispered between bites of leftover nobanana.
“Oh, not really. What exactly is in this, anyway? Is there any Reality food taht could relate to the tastes? It seemsï¿½ different.”
“Oh, goodness, she’s getting a phagomessage.” Intinier gasped.
“What did the first bite taste like?” Intinier demanded. “As specific as you can.”
“Um, it was a bit like salsaï¿½”
“That’s the Regency. Go on.”
“ï¿½and a bit like pickle relishï¿½”
“So it’s not good news. Uh, oh.”
“ï¿½with a citrus aftertaste.”
“Hmm. That’s Olviek’s signature. Figures- he’s the only phagomage in the Regency.”
“Umï¿½ what exactly is the Regency?”
“They’re a council set up to hold power after a king’s death until the next heir is of age. They only governed Kolombent this time, though. The Usurper controls the rest of Etheterre. Go on- what was the second bite like?”
“Tropical.”
The light radiating from Intinier’s skin pulsed once, then dimmed to a faint glow. She collapsed on the seat, and only the motion of her chest indicated that she was still alive.
“That can’t be good,” Emburr said.
“Do you know what it means, Emburr?” Lance asked.
“I only know that it must have come from someone in Reality. There are no tropics here. And judging by the state of our friend the phagomage, it must be one of His phagomage’s signs. And that isn’t very good, and it’s even worse that one of them is in Reality. But I’m no expert on phagomessagesï¿½”
“It means,” Intinier said, “That Elanor will soon become an OverBoard unless we can stop them.”
“Sweet Imaganrius.” Lance whispered.
“Lance! You never say that! Well, I suppose it’s all rightï¿½” Intinier said.
“What can we do?” Emburr shouted, unable to contain anything.
“I take it, it’s pretty bad.” Elanor said.
“Why yes! Of course it is! what do you mean? An OverBoardï¿½. how will we survive with an OverBoard along for the ride?” Emburr exclaimed. “Oh, um, er, ohï¿½. Oh! Hey, Intinier! Care to, er, explain?”
“OverBoarding is a rare condition that happens once in a while in the royal family of Etheterre,” said Intinier. “You see, the gateways are like seesaws. You start out on one end, and walk to the other until suddenly it tips and you are on the other end. The “ends” of the “seesaw” are Reality and Etheterre. An OverBoard goes across the gateways too many times, and he or she falls off the seesaw. Then he or she is stuck in one world, with no hope of crossing to the other. The Codex usually protects against this condition, but with it goneï¿½”
Emburr said something. Elanor didn’t know what it meant, nor could she pronounce it if somebody asked her to repeat it, but judging from Lance’s scandalized look, it was pretty rude.
“That means we have to get to Reality in the next seven days,” Intinier continued, “or Elanor will be stuck here with no way of getting back. And no way of getting the Codex.”
“But what is Regent Olviek doing in Reality?” Emburr inquired.
“I don’t know,” Intinier sighed. “We’ll find out when we get there, I g-” She broke off in a huge yawn.
Lance smiled. “We should all get some sleep now. I’ll come down and relieve Emburr at midnight- I’ve had some experience with acrotrains.”
The sleeping carriage was three cars back. Lance, Intinier and Elanor stepped carefully over the rickety platforms that separated the cars until they reached it.
It wasn’t what Elanor had expected. Along with the standard beds, which were themselves many different sizes, there was a perch-like affair and several raised baskets with nests of soft fabric inside them. She walked over to a medium-sized bed with an odd sort of silvery blanket that shifted colors depending on the angle of light hitting it. When she laid down, she found that it seemed to adjust in temperature and texture till it felt almost exactly the same as the old quilt on her bed at home. Almost. A strange, cold tingle passed through it at times, a sensation that reminded her of the locket that Mr. Roglea had given her.
It comforted her, and all she wanted to do was curl up under the blanket, and go to sleep – something she hadn’t done in what seemed like days. She drifted into a sleep with a dream that would be heaven to anyone but her.
It almost seemed more like a memory than a dream. She was looking almost directly across from two faces. One she recognized. It was her mother, but younger, and without the careworn lines that crisscrossed her forehead. The other was not really familiar, but she knew who it was just as well. The face from the locket. Atherton Wing. Her father.
They were standing on a balcony, looking outward over a landscape of strange, crystal towers, with a blue-green ocean in the distance. It was a warm summer night. Atherton raised his hand, pointing out a constellation to Elanor’s mother. “And that one’s the Triwing,” he said. “Legend has it that it was once a four-winged bird who carried messages for Etheterre’s first king. One day, a careless hunter shot at it, and it lost a wing, but it still flew onward and brought the message to the king. When it arrived, it perished from exhaustion, but its spirit was placed in the stars as a reward for its dedication.”
“Three wings. That will be us!” her mother said. Atherton laughedï¿½
And Elanor woke up. The dream had reminded her of what she was expected to do. Everyone had relaxed somehow when they saw her, thinking, Ah, the future queen is here. Everything’s going to be all right. How could anyone think that she was ready to defeat the Usurpers and take control of a realm that she would never have believed in? She was just a kid! In that moment, all she wanted to do was to go home and forget that any of this existed.

Then she looked up at the porthole of the gently rocking acrotrain. The Triwing, flying through the stars, was as clear as ever outside. Though it had seemed like a meaningless pattern of stars when she fell asleep, she recognized it like an old friend now. The curving streams of green stars that formed its wings, the violet twinkle that was its beak, opened forever in a song of celebration and gratitudeï¿½
A dark pall of smoke curled across the sky and hid it from view. The ground was still smoldering from Zefethelyan’s attack, and a new flame had risen from the shattered buildings, seeming to dance with wicked glee.
Elanor snapped open the locket, looking at her father’s face and the inscription next to it.
Remembering your past is the key to unlocking your destiny.
Etheterre was her home, and she would not allow it to be crushed and conquered.
“Elanor? Are you all right?”
Emburr was standing across from her, holding a glowing, golden sphere of fine-grained wood in his paw.
She smiled. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a dream. Is it midnight already?”
“Elanor, it’s 5:30 in the morning. We’re almost at the Nozama River.”
“Well, I don’t think there’s much point in trying to get back to sleep,” Elanor said. “How far are we from the Nozawhatzit?”
“Elanor?” said Emburr quizzically. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Yes, of course! What do you mean?”
“You just seem soï¿½ interested ï¿½ all of a sudden.”
He’s right, she thought. I’ve really been acting cynical.

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12

Prarilius Canix

in August 31st, 2007 @ 19:46

Most of the punctuation has been replaced with ? for some reason. We can fix that, though.
I’ll start with the prologue.
The rain slashed down in sheets, soaking the small, skinny(1), black-haired boy below. A sudden flash of lightning illuminated him and the parchment scroll he carried, the scroll that could decide the destiny of thousands. The thunder growled like a wild beast as he ran down the path.
He was concentrating on being fast and did not notice the person in front of him until he almost ran him over.
“Sorry sir, didn’t see you there. Are you? Oh.”
“I take it, she’s been born.”
“I dunno sir. I was told to take this to you.”
The man took the scroll from him and observed it rapidly.
“I thought so. Come, my home(2) is just around the corner. You can fix yourself something to eat. But don’t disturb me.”
He began to walk, the boy following him, down the rain soaked city streets.
(1)Since Lance is called gangly quite often in the rest of the book, I thought it would be good to turn it into “skinny” instead of “stocky.”
(2) I don’t think they have apartments in Etheterre.

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13

the man for aeiou

in August 31st, 2007 @ 20:34

Bring! Bring! “@#%! Alarm” Elanor exclaimed, still half asleep. She looked at the clock.
“Why is it so early? It’s not supposed to go off for another hour. Oh. Wait. Never mind.” she thought She glanced down at the small square of paper – no, parchment – in her hand. Rose cafe 4 pm DON’T BE LATE. She had been at the local bookstore purchasing a book when, along with the receipt, this message was given to her. She had no clue what it meant or whether it was a good idea but curiosity overcame her.

I thought that that was difficult to understand. if that do not work tell me.

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14

the man for aeiou

in August 31st, 2007 @ 20:40

She had rolled over and was about to fall back asleep when the alarm clock rang again. Dang, she thought, pressed snooze instead of off. Deciding it best to get up, she dressed herself, got ready for school, and started the long trek to her school, the middle school in her area. She had skipped a couple grades, being smarter than the average bear, and had started trumpet the previous year. Carrying her trumpet and backpack, she ran out of the door with a half-warmed-up pop-tart in her mouth, which her mother had handed her, even though she knew Elanor hated them.
” Wow, I sure hope I won’t be late for school,” she thought, knowing that if she was, she would be stopped by the school bullies again.
Sure enough, just as she rounded the corner, she heard the school bell ring in the distance. It was too late. Maybe she could hide. But no, before the bell’s obnoxious clang even stopped resonating in her mind, Brogan and his cohorts sauntered into view. Chewing furiously on the last bit of pop tart, she tucked the odd parchment into her coat pocket. She didn’t want to loose this mysterious note, or forget about the odd appointment. Then, there was nothing to do but wait.

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15

the man for aeiou

in August 31st, 2007 @ 20:41

so far so good.

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16

Prarilius Canix

in August 31st, 2007 @ 20:57

“Well, here comes little miss Elanor,” sneered Brogan as he approached. “Out for a walk alone, are we? Where’s yer mom and dad?” The last word was heavily emphasized.
Elanor was not about to admit how much that crack about her father had hurt. “I think I can take care of a couple of apes like you,” she said.
“This is our turf,” Brogan snarled. “You never learn, do ya? I guess I’ll have to teach y- OOMPH!”
Something had just struck Brogan in the chest. Elanor quickly looked toward the roof, but whoever had thrown it had run away. Elanor looked at the still Brogan, who was staring at the missile which had knocked the wind out of him. The object seemed to be a large math textbook. His cronies stood there for a second, while getting over their shock, then quickly ran away scared of more textbooks falling from the sky. Elanor blinked, looked around, and saw no one. Continuing on her way, she prepared herself for the yelling she was bound to get from her band teacher, an overzealous young woman who played the saxophone.
When she reached the band room, she heard music. “Oh, shoot! They’ve already started playing!” she thought, and ran in with her “unexcused” tardy note.
((I cut out a few paragraphs that seemed to be out of order or didn’t add much to the story. Also, I thought Brogan should make a crack about Elanor’s dad, considering that later on it’s shown that she’s sensitive about the subject.))

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17

Sobriquet

in August 31st, 2007 @ 21:24

Wow, it’s amazing how different the story is now. It went from slow and relatively normal to weird alternate reality at 90mph. I think we may have to add to the story so Elanor doesn’t seem so immediatly accepting of her duty to Etheterre. And make her older at the start. 10 is just not the right age for her. And, maybe edit out some unnescessary no-idea-of-what-the-plot-will-be beginning stuff. Sound good?

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18

Prarilius Canix

in August 31st, 2007 @ 22:15

17- Yeah. I agree with most of the stuff you said. She seems somewhat cynical at the beginning, but let’s make her more so. Character development is always good.

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19

Alice of the Blackberries

in September 1st, 2007 @ 00:45

I’m back! And it looks like I’m in for another night of editing. Yippee.

17- Agreed. How old should she be, though?

18- Yay! Cynicism! I can be good at that . . .

I’d like to do the next part but since it’s too late to hope for any moderation, the next part will probably have been done three times by morning. I’ll be content with waiting.

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20

Prarilius Canix

in September 1st, 2007 @ 19:12

This day, of all days, was the day her creative writing teacher had gotten sick. They had a substitute! Usually, this meant goofing around. But not this time.
“Elanor, please kindly sit down and do the ten math equations I put on the board. Creativity will come more easily to you once you have done some geometry.” said Mr. Blithe (a name that didn’t fit him in the slightest. His face was strangely expressionless, and his eyes looked unnatural somehow).
Luckily, she was in geometry, and was one of the most advanced in her class.
Why did he pick on her? she fumed. The other people in the class had been assigned much easier problems. What was math doing in a language arts class, anyway?
When she finished five minutes later, however, Mr. Blithe did not seem pleased.
“You must have cheated. No twelve-year-old can do problems that advanced that quickly. Here, I will give you ten more questions, and THIS time, sit at the front, where I can watch you,” he said disapprovingly.
Elanor sighed. “Why do I have to be so smart?” she mumbled, while the class giggled as she walked to the front of the room to do the math.
As she did the rest of her problems under the disapproving stare of Mr. Blithe, she suddenly felt something wriggling in her pocket! Disgusted, she reached in and pulled out by the tail one of the school’s many mice, which was chewing on the piece of parchment! Elanor quickly pulled the parchment away from it then tossed the mouse away from her. Unfortunately it landed on Mr. Blithe’s head.
Mr. Blithe (who was busy yelling at another kid) didn’t even notice as the mouse crawled into his huge mass of hair. But the students did…
“Why are you laughing?” He growled “Is this some childish PRANK of yours, or are you just being IMMATURE, as so many children seem to be?” He paused, glaring at the class.
Meanwhile, the mouse was walking around in his hair and squeaking. It seemed almost fearful, treading gingerly on the scalp, and its little pink nose was wiggling as though smelling something unpleasant. This only increased the class’s hilarity. “YOU!” He shouted. Elanor jumped. “I know it’s your fault. Two hours after school today. Running laps.”
“But…”
“I don’t care.”
“But you don’t even know what she’s DONE!” yelled one of the other students.
“It doesn’t matter. She was bad. And now she will pay.” He smiled and leaned closer to Elanor. She smelled his breath, and wished she hadn’t. It smelled like machine oil and gasoline. “You will pay,” he whispered in her ear, and walked off, leaving Elanor to wonder what she had done to deserve such a creepy teacher.
The rest of the day passed slowly. Elanor had never been kept after school before. What would her mother think? And how was she supposed to go to the Rose Cafe at four?
After school let out at three, she made her way down to the track. Mr. Blithe was waiting for her. The mouse, (still in his hair) was too. It had hunkered down and clung to his hair, as though frightened to move. Without saying a word, Elanor started running, her backpack slung over one shoulder. However, she was not running in the right direction. “Stop!” Mr. Blithe puffed, chasing after her. But Elanor (of course) did not. She had to get to the cafe. If she made it there, she somehow felt it would be a sort of sign. A sign that she was not destined to become a secretary shut in an office all day, or a cashier, or a waitress. It would be a sign that she would become something different. Something exciting. Something worthwhile. But first she had to evade Mr. Blithe. And evade the mouse, she supposed, who was still perched atop this head, clinging madly to his hair.
She ran through the city, taking the most confusing route to The Rose that she could think of. Mr. Blithe fell farther and farther behind, and the last thing she heard him say was:
“Time falling the pools ice!” Or, at least that was what it sounded like. Elanor finally reached the swinging wooden sign that hung over The Rose’s entrance, looked around for Mr. Blithe (he was not in sight), and ducked indoors.
((I made Elanor older and made the math a little less advanced, to make it more realistic. Also, I put in some foreshadowing about Mr. Blithe being a homunculus.))

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21

Prarilius Canix

in September 1st, 2007 @ 19:27

Meanwhile, the dark-haired parchment bearer of a decade ago was reclining in a chair inside the cafe and waiting. He wondered if the girl would come. He wondered what she’d be like. He wondered if she’d have the nerve to choose… if she’d be like her father.
When she arrived, his hopes fell. She was so… unlikely. Small and diminutive and preoccupied. But at least she had come.
“Elanor!” he called.
She started and came over to him.
“How are you?” he asked politely.
“Well, not that great.” she told him dejectedly. “Look, I don’t mean to be rude, but who are you?”
“You can call me Lance.” he sighed. She didn’t seem right, somehow. He wondered what Nikolas would think.
“So… what are you doing here? And how do you know my name?” Elanor asked.
“I need you to help me- help us. You see…” Lance was cut short by a yell. “That’s her!”
Lance muttered an obscenity. Sighing, he grabbed Elanor’s hand and ran. But he was slow, impeded by surprise and her added weight. He had only made it to the next street when they caught up to him.
Lance had thought they were the regular policemen, but it turned he was wrong. He swallowed uncomfortably. The Usurper was taking an interest. Things had just gotten a lot more complicated.
I guess I’ll have to lose them, he thought.
“What shortcut?” asked Elanor.
“Sorry, must have been thinking out loud…” he said. “This way!”
And with that, he shoved the policemen over and ran down a side streets.
Elanor had a bit of trouble catching up to him as, though she enjoyed fencing and acting, running wasn’t her favorite activity. Also, she was perplexed- when he pushed those policemen down, did he actually touch them? She could have sworn he’d just gestured, and they’d fallen over. All those laps at fencing paid off though and she managed to follow him as he darted down a warren of brick-walled alleys.
Elanor gasped. They had come to a dead end. But Lance didn’t stop. He merely tapped a brick, and the wall slid away, revealing a small, sparely furnished closet space.
Lance leaped inside, dragging Elanor behind him. The wall shut with a deliberate crunch, and the pair were plunged into absolute darkness.
The room seemed to speed up- An elevator, Elanor thought- but it was hard to tell whether it was moving or everything else was moving past it. Elanor felt a sudden rush of nausea, but fortunately the elevator stopped promptly. A door slid open, sending a blast of cold air and brilliant light into the alcove.
Elanor looked around and realized that she was in the Rose Cafe. She had been there before, as it was a favorite meeting place of hers and her friends’. The door swung shut behind her with a loud thump. EMPLOYEES ONLY, it said.
Suddenly, a man straightened up from his bent position behind the counter. It was hard to tell how old he was, as his hair was completely white, but his face was smooth and unwrinkled. It didn’t look like the fake, too-perfect smoothness achieved by wrinkle creams, either. Elanor had seen him before- Mr. Roglea, owner of the Rose Cafe.
“What are you doing here?” he said as he swung around. “We’re close- Oh! Lance! Sorry. I see you’ve brought Elanor, too. Excellent work!”
Elanor refused to go any farther without knowing something. “What is going on here?” she demanded.
Lance and Mr. Roglea looked at each other for a moment. “We’ll have to tell her,” Mr. Roglea said. “After all, her father-”
“Then we’d better be quick. I’ve got a couple homunculi on my tail.”
Mr. Roglea sucked in his breath. “What shape?”
“Policemen, and I’m not sure that her substitute teacher wasn’t one too. The Usurper’s closing in, trying to get to her before we did. We have to-”
“What do you know about my father?ï¿½ Elanor interrupted.
Mr. Roglea replied to Lance as though he had not heard Elanor. “But are you sure it’s necessary?” he said.
“Of course,” Lance gasped. “As the last heir, she deserves to know.”
Elanor didn’t enjoy being completely in the dark while everybody acted as though they were infinitely wise. She wanted answers, and she wanted them now. She finally managed to tear her arm out of Lance’s grip and turned around to glare at him.
Oops, he thought. She’s one of those emotional girls.
This girl was staring daggers at him. She didn’t seem so short and chubby now. “Who are you, what do you want?” she demanded, trying to pull the shake out of her voice. “Lance,” he answered promptly. There’s something he knew. “And, er… It’s a long story. You see, your dad-” “I don’t have a dad,” Elanor said dismissively. “You’re one of those jerks from school, aren’t you? Trying to rub it in. Yeah, it’s not my fault, ok? Go be a jerk at my mom, leave me alone. It was her choice.” No,” said Lance hastily. He was supposed to be able to explain something to her. Remember “inside Lance”? He mentally harried himself. Find it, quickly. His panic wasn’t unfounded, either. Elanor was looking murderous. “Then what do you want?” she growled again, and than paused.
Something was changing about the guy in front of her. His curly mop of onyx hair didn’t look so dorky anymore, and his milked-down coffee skin looked less uptight and more exotic and interesting. The biggest change was his eyes. Though she’d only been able to see them once before she’d been whisked off on his wild goose chase, they weren’t just deep brown like she’d thought. They seemed to have flecks of gold, like some odd overtone. He looked serious. Handsome, almost.
Just in time, thought Lance. “Your father came from a different place. A place very different from here. He met your mother by accident, but he…” Lance trailed off. “He left you this.” Lance buried his hand in the deep pockets of the black trench coat he was wearing, and after some rummaging, he pulled something out. A thin gold chain, with a locket hanging off it. He casually tossed it to Elanor.
The locket was made of a silvery substance that felt unnaturally cool against Elanor’s skin. It was unengraved on the outside, but when she pried open the heart she saw a message written in a cursive-y flowing script. The message read:
Elanor,
Remembering your past is the key unlocking your destiny.
ï¿½Oh, greatï¿½ thought Elanor. ï¿½Really clears things up.ï¿½ On the other side, she saw a picture of a man. The picture showed him having golden brown hair, like hers, and the same sort of round chin. She felt she knew him, and then she realized he must be her father. She looked back up at Lance and Mr. Roglea.
“My dadï¿½?” croaked Elanor. Her mouth had gone dry. Lance cleared his throat. “His name was Atherton Wing. He lived where I live.” ” Where’s that?” questioned Elanor, still staring at the serious looking man in the locket. “Do you want to come and find out?” asked Lance quietly, glancing at Mr. Roglea, who nodded. “Ok,” said Elanor. She knew she shouldn’t – she had to get home in five minutes, and her mom would hate her forever – but something told her that her teacher and the boy in front of her were to be trusted. And insatiable curiosity drew her in. She wanted to know about her father, why he’d left so soon after she was born.
“Nikolas?” Lance asked. Elanor looked up, and found that Mr. Roglea was nodding. Nikolas Roglea, then. Nikolas pulled a marble sphere out of his pocket. It was in oddly shimmering shades of rose like pink, yellow oranges, and hazy, swirled traces of reddish tones. The odd thing was, it seemed to be shifting and spiraling, all contained under a sheet of clear lacquer. “3… 2…1,” muttered Lance, and than the entire shabby cafe was engulfed in bright, warmly colored light. Elanor couldn’t see anything except for the dark silhouette of Lance as he shouted, “Sh-” Elanor didn’t hear the rest as the room suddenly disappeared, and she found herself somewhere very, very dark.
((I fixed a few inconsistencies about Elanor’s birth and the chase, and added a bit more foreshadowing.))

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22

Alice of the Blackberries

in September 3rd, 2007 @ 11:27

20- The foreshadowing sounds like the kind of thing I wrote for Kari.

This is not a bad thing. I was just noting it.

21- I feel slightly guilty. You are obviously resisting the temptation to take the story to pieces and put it back together. Maybe I should stay out of this. You don’t want to see what I can do when I ignore any qualms about rewriting other people’s stuff.

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23

Prarilius Canix

in September 3rd, 2007 @ 13:46

22- Uh oh.
Try to restrain yourself and only edit the parts that really need to be edited or taken out for the story to make sense. That’s what I did.

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24

Alice of the Blackberries

in September 3rd, 2007 @ 22:23

23- You saw what I did to Terraformed? Well, imagine that happening to this. I practically rewrote it, and although it was better when I was done, I’ve been feeling faintly guilty ever since it was brought to my attention that what I was doing was rewriting. Egad.

See, I would look at that last part and think, Oh no. Then I would sit down and what I would produce would be an improved version with far too much of my voice worked in.

I wonder if I can improve it without changing it too much.

Hmm.

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25

Prarilius Canix

in September 4th, 2007 @ 21:30

((I’ll make this a bit clearer.))

Meanwhile, the dark-haired parchment bearer of a decade ago was reclining in a chair inside the cafe and waiting. He wondered if the girl would come. He wondered what she’d be like. He wondered if she’d have the nerve to chooseâ€¦ if she’d be like her father.
When she arrived, his hopes fell. She was soâ€¦ unlikely. Small and diminutive and preoccupied. But at least she had come.
“Elanor!” he called.
She started and came over to him.
“How are you?” he asked politely.
“Well, not that great.” she told him dejectedly. “Look, I don’t mean to be rude, but who are you?”
“You can call me Lance.” he sighed. She didn’t seem right, somehow. He wondered what Nikolas would think.
“Soâ€¦ what are you doing here? And how do you know my name?” Elanor asked.
“I need you to help me- help us. You seeâ€¦” Lance was cut short by a yell. “That’s her!”
Lance muttered an obscenity. Sighing, he grabbed Elanor’s hand and ran. But he was slow, impeded by surprise and her added weight. He had only made it to the next street when they caught up to him.
Lance had thought they were the regular policemen, but it turned he was wrong. He swallowed uncomfortably. The Usurper was taking an interest. Things had just gotten a lot more complicated.
I guess I’ll have to lose them, he thought.
“What shortcut?” asked Elanor.
“Sorry, must have been thinking out loudâ€¦” he said. “This way!”
And with that, he shoved the policemen over and ran down a side streets.
Elanor had a bit of trouble catching up to him as, though she enjoyed fencing and acting, running wasn’t her favorite activity. Also, she was perplexed- when he pushed those policemen down, did he actually touch them? She could have sworn he’d just gestured, and they’d fallen over. All those laps at fencing paid off though and she managed to follow him as he darted down a warren of brick-walled alleys.
Elanor gasped. They had come to a dead end. But Lance didn’t stop. He merely tapped a brick, and the wall slid away, revealing a small, sparely furnished closet space.
Lance leaped inside, dragging Elanor behind him. The wall shut with a deliberate crunch, and the pair were plunged into absolute darkness.
The room seemed to speed up- An elevator, Elanor thought- but it was hard to tell whether it was moving or everything else was moving past it. Elanor felt a sudden rush of nausea, but fortunately the elevator stopped promptly. A door slid open, sending a blast of cold air and brilliant light into the alcove.
Elanor looked around and realized that she was in the Rose Cafe again. She had been there before, as it was a favorite meeting place of hers and her friends’. The door swung shut behind her with a loud thump. EMPLOYEES ONLY, it said.
Suddenly, a man straightened up from his bent position behind the counter. It was hard to tell how old he was, as his hair was completely white, but his face was smooth and unwrinkled. It didn’t look like the fake, too-perfect smoothness achieved by wrinkle creams, either. Elanor had seen him before- Mr. Roglea, owner of the Rose Cafe.
“What are you doing here?” he said as he swung around. “We’re close- Oh! Lance! Sorry. I see you’ve brought Elanor, too. Excellent work!”
Elanor refused to go any farther without knowing something. “What is going on here?” she demanded.
Lance and Mr. Roglea looked at each other for a moment. “We’ll have to tell her,” Mr. Roglea said. “After all, her father-”
“Then we’d better be quick. I’ve got a couple homunculi on my tail. They spotted me outside the front door, and I managed to lose them by going the roundabout way, but we’d better do this quick.”
Mr. Roglea sucked in his breath. “What shape?”
“Policemen, and I’m not sure that her substitute teacher wasn’t one too. The Usurper’s closing in, trying to get to her before we did. We have to-”
“What do you know about my father?ï¿½ Elanor interrupted.
Mr. Roglea replied to Lance as though he had not heard Elanor. “But are you sure it’s necessary?” he said.
“Of course,” Lance gasped. “As the last heir, she deserves to know.”
Elanor didn’t enjoy being completely in the dark while everybody acted as though they were infinitely wise. She wanted answers, and she wanted them now. She finally managed to tear her arm out of Lance’s grip and turned around to glare at him.
Oops, he thought. She’s one of those emotional girls.
This girl was staring daggers at him. She didn’t seem so short and chubby now. “Who are you, what do you want?” she demanded, trying to pull the shake out of her voice. “Lance,” he answered promptly. There’s something he knew. “And, erâ€¦ It’s a long story. You see, your dad-” “I don’t have a dad,” Elanor said dismissively. “You’re one of those jerks from school, aren’t you? Trying to rub it in. Yeah, it’s not my fault, ok? Go be a jerk at my mom, leave me alone. It was her choice.” No,” said Lance hastily. He was supposed to be able to explain something to her. Remember “inside Lance”? He mentally harried himself. Find it, quickly. His panic wasn’t unfounded, either. Elanor was looking murderous. “Then what do you want?” she growled again, and than paused.
Something was changing about the guy in front of her. His curly mop of onyx hair didn’t look so dorky anymore, and his milked-down coffee skin looked less uptight and more exotic and interesting. The biggest change was his eyes. Though she’d only been able to see them once before she’d been whisked off on his wild goose chase, they weren’t just deep brown like she’d thought. They seemed to have flecks of gold, like some odd overtone. He looked serious. Handsome, almost.
Just in time, thought Lance. “Your father came from a different place. A place very different from here. He met your mother by accident, but heâ€¦” Lance trailed off. “He left you this.” Lance buried his hand in the deep pockets of the black trench coat he was wearing, and after some rummaging, he pulled something out. A thin gold chain, with a locket hanging off it. He casually tossed it to Elanor.
The locket was made of a silvery substance that felt unnaturally cool against Elanor’s skin. It was unengraved on the outside, but when she pried open the heart she saw a message written in a cursive-y flowing script. The message read:
Elanor,
Remembering your past is the key unlocking your destiny.
ï¿½Oh, greatï¿½ thought Elanor. ï¿½Really clears things up.ï¿½ On the other side, she saw a picture of a man. The picture showed him having golden brown hair, like hers, and the same sort of round chin. She felt she knew him, and then she realized he must be her father. She looked back up at Lance and Mr. Roglea.
“My dadï¿½?” croaked Elanor. Her mouth had gone dry. Lance cleared his throat. “His name was Atherton Wing. He lived where I live.” ” Where’s that?” questioned Elanor, still staring at the serious looking man in the locket. “Do you want to come and find out?” asked Lance quietly, glancing at Mr. Roglea, who nodded. “Ok,” said Elanor. She knew she shouldn’t – she had to get home in five minutes, and her mom would hate her forever – but something told her that her teacher and the boy in front of her were to be trusted. And insatiable curiosity drew her in. She wanted to know about her father, why he’d left so soon after she was born.
“Nikolas?” Lance asked. Elanor looked up, and found that Mr. Roglea was nodding. Nikolas Roglea, then. Nikolas pulled a marble sphere out of his pocket. It was in oddly shimmering shades of rose like pink, yellow oranges, and hazy, swirled traces of reddish tones. The odd thing was, it seemed to be shifting and spiraling, all contained under a sheet of clear lacquer. “3â€¦ 2â€¦1,” muttered Lance, and than the entire shabby cafe was engulfed in bright, warmly colored light. Elanor couldn’t see anything except for the dark silhouette of Lance as he shouted, “Sh-” Elanor didn’t hear the rest as the room suddenly disappeared, and she found herself somewhere very, very dark.

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26

Alice of the Blackberries

in September 4th, 2007 @ 23:42

25-
*Dark-haired parchment bearer of twelve years ago.

But yes, it’s good. And if I didn’t have to depart soon, I might give it a try myself.

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27

Prarilius Canix

in September 5th, 2007 @ 16:35

26- Thanks. My mistake.

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28

Prarilius Canix

in September 5th, 2007 @ 17:49

As her eyes adjusted to the gloom… Wait, that was wrong. Her eyes weren’t adjusting. Everything just stayed that utter, impenetrable black. Though Elanor wasn’t at all afraid of the dark, this wasn’t dark in the normal sense of the word. It was void, an infinite hole in her universe that had to be filled. Apparently, she was the filling.
“Lance?” she said, her voice quivering. No matter how smart or brave or talented she was, she was still twelve years old. Twelve years weren’t enough to prepare her for this. She had a feeling that twenty, fifty, a hundred still wouldn’t fill that other void, the void of experience.
Elanor thought that maybe Lance was putting a hand over her mouth, but she couldn’t tell because it wasn’t like a hand at all, sort of a bunch of air that had somehow thickened and was now trying to smother her. Despite her fear, Elanor was angry: how did anyone think she’d be ready for this sudden lack of a world? Sometimes when the bullies were feeling particularly uninventive, they’d pull her chair out while she was sitting down; this was a little like that. Normal was the chair, Lance and Mr. Roglea were the bullies, and she was herself.
And then, suddenly, everything exploded. Elanor could feel her insides twisting through her gut and becoming her outsides, her arms stretching through her sides, grasping at herself and missing, stretching out into mile-long toothpicks. It didn’t hurt.
Even through the walls of her own flesh, she could see that all the dark had turned to light; she was transparent. It’s like an inverse in math: everything^-1.
And then she was the right way out and her arms were the right length and she could see herself and she could see the details of her surroundings, which were exactly the same. By all appearances, she had been flipped through dark, light, and herself, and everything was exactly the same. The old clock on the wall still said 4:19.
“What was that?” she asked Mr. Roglea.
“Come outside,” he said.
As the door swung open, Elanor felt like her eyes were about to pop out of her head.
“This is Etheterre, where all possibilities are realized,” said Mr. Roglea. “The Rose Cafe is one of the few places that is exactly the same in both Reality and Etheterre- there’s one on every continent. Your father was ruler here.”
Normally, Elanor would have replied with a cynical remark, but she was too busy staring.
“Sadly,” Mr. Roglea continued, “Atherton was killed by someone who wanted power so badly that he would do anything to get it. I brought you and your mother back to Reality to escape this person. Lance brought the news of your birth to me, and since then, he hasn’t let me down once.”
Elanor only half-heard Mr. Roglea’s statement. In Reality, the Rose Cafe was the only classy thing on an otherwise grimy street. In Etheterre, it was one of many strange and wonderful shops with unpronounceable names and unidentifiable merchandise. All of these buildings were lined up on a road made of shimmering crystal, which hung in midair, twisting and turning as it connected two giant silver towers. Each tower had a multitude of crystal roads branching off of it and interweaving. “Welcome to Labarynth City,” Lance said. “The last stronghold against the Usurper.”
Just then, an enormous thump shook the Rose Cafe to its foundations. Mr. Roglea spun around, saying, “Ah, it’s here. I wondered when it would come.”
A book was lying on the counter, golden dust motes swirling around it. The title, to all appearances, was “Teas from around the Globe”, but, as Elanor stared, it shimmered suddenly. For the shortest instant, the words “Codex Aetherica” hung above the cover in letters of silver flame. Then it looked normal again. Mr. Roglea opened it carefully. “Tea!” he said. “Tea – Did you see anything, Elanor?”
“Sort of… what do you mean?”
“This is a strange book. It changes.” he whispered. “Look at it, and you’ll see what you should see. But only when you need to see it.”
“Codex Aetherica?” she asked cautiously. “What? I didn’t see much. And why did I need to see that?”
Lance cut in. “Just wait. You’ll see.”
“The Codex Aetherica,” Mr. Roglea continued, “is an artifact of ancient Etheterre, when the boundaries between it and Reality were easily crossed, and we didn’t need these tiresome gateway nexi and transfer marbles. It is more like a living thing than a book, and manifests itself in different books, both in Etheterre and Reality. When people stopped believing in the fantastic, the two realms split completely, with only thin threads of connecting places left. The Codex was captured under a powerful spell by the mages of Etheterre’s first king a few millennia ago. It now manifests itself in the book closest to the true heir.”
Elanor thought back to the morning- it seemed ages ago- when a math textbook had apparently jumped off the roof of the school and struck Brogan in the chest.
Elanor told this story aloud. “But,” she concluded, “The book hit Brogan, not meï¿½. Are you sure you didn’t get the wrong person?”
Mr. Roglea laughed. “No,” he said, “it hit Brogan to keep you safe. That is one of its other powers. Protecting the true heir.”
Lance said, “Yes, and now it will keep you safe. You are to keep it with you at all times. In this world, and in Reality. It is your way between worlds. With this, you don’t need to travel to the Rose Cafe, or any of the other gateways, but it only works for you.”
“But, if it only works for me, what’s the point?” Elanor began. “I mean, what I do while I’m back and forth if no one is there with me?”
“Well, that doesn’t matter. See, with the book, no one can harm you.” said Mr. Roglea.
“Wait wait wait. Usurpers… a magical world… this sounds like some sort of cliche fantasy book. Why should I believe you?”
“Did the trip through the gateway feel like a cliche fantasy book, Elanor?” Mr. Roglea said. “Did Mr. Blithe seem like a cliche fantasy book?”
Elanor had no answer to that.
“People want you. People that want to control Etheterre. They’re known as the Usurpers.” interrupted Lance.
Mr. Roglea added, “You need to keep the land safe, because you are the heir.”
“Nearly all of these people,” Lance added, “are controlled by the Usurper- the man who killed your father.”
Elanor was finding this hard to take in. She had never known her dad, and her mother never really seemed to want to talk about him.
“I don’t get it,” she said. “If Dad had this Codex thing, then how did the Usurper manage to kill him? I don’t think that it’s as all-powerful as you seem to think.”
“Well, the power is controlled by Imaganruis.”
“Which is?”
“The force that created Etheterre. The sum total of human imagination. It was being attacked by the Usurpers when your father was killed. But Imaganruis survived, and became much stronger – because you were born,” explained Mr. Roglea
“What’s so special about me? I know, I’m supposed to be the heir, but the heir is just a title. It’s not like the world didn’t explode because there was a certain girl on the Earth, is it?”
” No, it isn’t. You were born on Etheterre. That’s what made you so important.”
“Then my mother…” Elanor trailed her sentence, as though she couldn’t complete the thought.
“Yes.” Lance answered. “Atherton married her in Reality on one of his journeys. Then he brought her back here.”
“But if she lived here, why did she come to Earth? Why didn’t she ever tell me about this?” Elanor was practically screaming. Both men could tell her temporary rage could become full hysteria if they didn’t calm her down.
“Your mother had to go to Earth, to keep you safe.” Mr. Roglea explained softly. “She had no choice.”
“Why is that?” Elanor asked icily.
“Well,” Lance continued, looking a little uncomfortable, “Zefeth-”
He didn’t get any farther, because Mr. Roglea had gagged him. “Don’t say that name!” he snarled.
“Ahem- the leader of the Usurpers somehow found a way to attack Imaganruis. With Etheterre crumbling around him, Atherton did something extremely brave. He turned the full protective power of the Codex over to Imaganruis. It saved Etheterre, but the Usurpers didn’t want to destroy Etheterre. They wanted to control it.
While the Codex was occupied otherwise, the Usurpers killed Atherton.
They maimed him horribly, and tossed him in a shallow grave that is now covered with asphalt. He died a torturous death. But, with his departure, there was a new life. His life force was added to that book.”
” His what?” Elanor was regaining her normal cynicism. The initial shock had worn off, and she was starting to be hungry. Her stomach gave a loud rumble.
“When Atherton died,” Mr. Roglea continued, “the Codex immediately manifested itself in your home, you being the next heir. Your mother realized what had happened and came to me. You were only a few days old then, and Lance was around ten, only a poor messenger boy. He was the one who brought me news of your birth. I was a good friend of your father, and so I took you and your mother to Reality. It was the least I could do. I was simply a second-rate mage back then-”
“Wait,” Elanor interjected. “You are actually saying that you are a wizard?”
“One of the many terms that the people of Reality used for people of my profession,” Mr. Roglea replied. “I took Lance on as my apprentice. I could see from the time I first met him that he had talent.”
“Okay,” Elanor said skeptically. “Why not just magic this Usurper away, then?”
” I doubt that you understand,” Lance said. “Spells often require hours of preparation, and no spell in either universe could harm a hair on the head of the Usurper.”
“Why not?” Elanor asked.
“The Usurper is not just a normal person, Elanor.” Explained Mr. Roglea. “Neither are his subordinates.”
“The Usurpers don’t play fair, if you haven’t noticed,” said Lance, almost mockingly. “They don’t care if they hurt people. They have magic, too, but theirs is filled with evil of their past deeds. Recycled. When a mage dies, usually his magic dies with him. He’s born with it and he dies with it. But the Usurpers have found a way to suck the magic out of someone. This magic is tainted, evil, but magic nonetheless. And as long as they have the Usurper, it won’t ever go away. No one has ever penetrated this shield, and only one person will ever be able to.”
“Who?” asked Elanor.
“You,” replied Lance. “Once a ruler of Etheterre learns how to use the Codex to its full potential, there isn’t a power that can stand against him- or her.”
“Excuse me,” said Elanor, “But I have no idea how to use this thing. I’m only twelve, and you expect me to save a world that I didn’t even know about till 15 minutes ago? Even if it’s real at all?”
Her statement’s dramatic effect was somewhat spoiled due to the fact that her stomach emanated a rumble that would have done credit to a cave bear.
Mr. Roglea laughed. “It’s about time for lunch, anyhow. We can all plan better on full stomachs.”
Elanor was seized with a sudden misgiving. “Um- what exactly do you eat here?” she asked. She didn’t care if this was a hallucination, she wouldn’t eat anything suspicious.
Lance grinned. “You’ll find out.”

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29

Alice of the Blackberries

in September 5th, 2007 @ 19:12

I find the avoidance of Zefethelyan’s name to be unhappily similar to Harry Potter.

Oh well.

I’ll give this a shot, in a minute.

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30

Alice of the Blackberries

in September 5th, 2007 @ 19:28

They approached a restaurant. Elanor looked up. The sign read “Lilete Pelisarn” She wondered what it could mean. As they stepped inside, a creature about 5ft 2 was standing with its back turned. It was orange and light seemed to radiate from it, it turned around. “Why hello there!ï¿½”
Elanor screamed, but after taking a look at the creature, she forgot why. It had what seemed a human face of a woman. The creature had green hair that looked too thick to be hair, it fell only to the middle of the neck, and it seemed that each strand was moving. Its eyes where bright purple, and ears that looked like squiggles protruded from the sides of its head. The creature bent down and took Elanor’s hand and gently shook it. “Is this the girl?” She looked up at Lance.
“Yes,” he said softly.
“My goodness!” Her face lighted up. I must prepare a-”
“Relax.” Lance said. “We’re just here for lunch.”
“Oh!” she said. “Just lunch? But there’s so much to do, so much, all of the things that we’ll have to catch up on, and I’ll have to teach her all I know! How can you just have lunch at a time like this?”
“You’ll get to have some time with her, I believe. She’ll need all the help she can get, with her missions. But not now. We’re all tired.”
“Fine! But at least I get to give you all a spectacular lunch!” she exclaimed. “Hmph!”
“Intinier, she’s had a rough day. We need to keep a slow pace here. You don’t want to overwhelm her, do you?”
“If you don’t want to overwhelm me, you haven’t done a very good job,” said Elanor. “I have never felt so confused in my life.”
Mr. Roglea simply smiled. “Elanor, meet Intinier, best phagomage in Labarynth City.”
“Um, phagomage?” asked Elanor.
“A magician specializing in food,” Lance said. “Intinier is also one of the few beings who reads the ancient script of Etheterre, which is what the Codex is written in.”
Intinier suddenly yelled over her shoulder. “Woodle, get in here!”
A small, hovering ball of blue fur with a long, whippy tail rocketed out from the back of the restaurant. It came to a sudden halt about six inches from Elanor’s nose, bobbing in midair. “Tayb’l fo’ tree?” it chittered. “Gutengurger! Falla mi.”
“What’s he saying?” Elanor whispered to Lance.
“Woodle, this is Elanor.” Intinier introduced the small creature, who turned to look at Elanor, and then back at Intinier, as if he didn’t believe her.
“Woodle is a Xixin, one of several species of beings that live in Etheterre. He speaks Lillix, one of the most common languages of the region. He’s very suspicious of strangers, sorry if he seemed rude.”
“Woodle, take our guests to a table,” said Intinier. The Xixin complied, leading them through the restaurant. He stopped at an area empty of furniture. Elanor raised her eyebrows as Lance calmly sat down on thin air.
FLOOP.
A section of mahogany bench unfurled itself from nothingness and prevented Lance from landing on the floor. Mr. Roglea sat down as well, with the same result.
Elanor tried to detect something that they had done, but she couldn’t see anything.
“Come on, Elanor! Have a seat!” Lance said casually.
“What? Where would you like me to do that?” she replied cautiously.
“Just sit down! Come on, it’s not hard!”
“Okay . . .”
Elanor sat on air. It was quite comfortable. But unlike Mr. Roglea’s and Lance’s air benches, it was completely invisible. Or was it just air?
“Elanor, you’ve done it! That’s not an easy thing to do, you know. Lance and I have to make something appear. But you can just sit right down on air! And do you know what that means?” Mr. Roglea exclaimed, barely able to contain himself.
“No – ”
“It means that with some practice, you’ll be able to fly, just like your father! Wow. Just imagine what you could do with that.” Mr. Roglea sat back and marveled.
Not for the first time that day, Elanor was stunned. “My father could fly?”
“The royalty of Etheterre are often born with unusual abilities,” said Mr. Roglea. “Your great-grandfather was known for-”
He broke off in mid-sentence, staring into space. For a moment, cold shock was stamped across his features. Then he sagged forward, collapsing on the table.
“Nikolas!” gasped Lance. “What happened?”
“Zefethelyan,” Mr. Roglea muttered. “He sensed the Codex. He’s coming here.”
~~~~~
Well that was weird. I hardly changed anything.

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31

Prarilius Canix

in September 5th, 2007 @ 19:43

29- Good point. Let’s take that out.

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32

Alice of the Blackberries

in September 5th, 2007 @ 19:49

Chapter Five

Woodle bounced twelve feet into the air at this statement, then shot back towards the counter, making a noise like a terrified kettle. Intinier’s eyes hardened at the sight, and she reached down
to pull a lever next to the cash register. There was a crackle, and sheets of blue light dropped across the windows and doors. “The Usurper will find the Lilete Pelisarn a tough loconut to crack,” the phagomage muttered, then snapped, “Nikolas! Pull yourself together!”
Outside the restaurant, a small clot of darkness gathered in the middle of the crystal road. It was absolute black and impenetrable to light. It grew in power and size with every passing shadow. Beasts of burden shied away from it. The various creatures on the street dispersed uneasily, and soon it was completely deserted.
The shadow reared up and stretched into a vague form like a shapeless cloak. Two pale hands, decked with platinum rings, emerged from under it and reached upward. With a sudden, violent motion, the cloak’s hood was thrown back. Elanor, crouching inside the Lilete Pelisarn, saw for the first time the face of the man who had killed her father.
Zefethelyan had the same ageless look as Mr. Roglea, but his skin was the same chalk-white as his hair. Red eyes glittered like garnets beside his sculpted Roman nose, and his thin-lipped mouth curled upward into an amused smile as he raised his left hand.
Nothing seemed to happen at first. Then one of the cookbooks on Intinier’s shelf glowed a livid green. It seemed to be screaming Danger! Elanor felt a wave of nausea pass over her. The Codex- for so the book had become- propelled itself through the air, skidding to a halt in front of the girl. A horrible vibration rattled the protective screens in front of the windows.
“Shoot,” Intinier said. “Are there any mages here?”
Two hands- Mr. Roglea’s and Lance’s- went into the air. And a paw. And a tentacle.
“Good,” the phagomage said. “We have enough for a pentacle. Are all of you familiar with the von Urchen field?”
A chorus of affirmatives came from around the restaurant.
“That was one of the first things Twiggnth taught me! He knew what he was doing.” said the pawed mage. He was a small furry creature, with a square turquoise nose and enormous violet eyes. He had his own table, and he was sitting in a chair that was translucent – clearly he had been trained well.
All of a sudden the room was silent. Not that it hadn’t been before. But even Zefethelyan seemed to pause for a moment.
“Umï¿½” whispered the tentacled mage. “It’ll certainly help to have a mage trained by the father of Atherton in our von Urchen field, and I know that it’s amazing to find that out, but right now, we need to start.”
Elanor watched as the four mages and the phagomage began to circle the Lilete Pelisarn with a blinding silver light.
Just in time. A blast of crimson light impacted the window screens, ripping them to shreds. The Codex pulsed golden, sending five streams of power outward. Each one seeped into a mage’s chest, lighting up the torsos of the struggling spellcasters with a brilliant, lemon yellow radiance. The field grew more and more powerful. Elanor felt the energy crashing exultantly through her being. She was immersed in it, unable to stop it as it drowned out her petty fears and aggravations, even if she’d wanted to.
She didn’t intentionally speak the words that came out of her mouth. She simply concentrated on the Codex, and what she wanted done. The incantation followed naturally.
“Syldurva ethren kierna imblas! Vantres ionia!”
One layer of the von Urchen field uncoiled like a giant whip of silver. It lashed forward at a blinding speed, the very air around it crackling with power. Zefethelyan opened his mouth in shock a millisecond before the impact.
BBZZZZAAAKKKKK!!!!!!!!
The Usurper was tossed twenty feet into the air and fifty feet backward. Only his twisted shield of stolen magic prevented him from being turned into a pile of ash.
Zefethelyan fell into a small bookshop, startling its birdlike owner considerably. The Usurper got to his feet and paused for a second, his eyes blazing. The the entire bookshop burst into flames. Ancient tomes withered and crackled with sparks.
“Faust’s Inferno,”muttered Mr. Roglea. “But whyï¿½” His voice trailed off. Streaks of flame rocketed out from the blazing bookshop. targeting houses and stores apparently at random.
“He’s burning the books!” shouted Lance.
The Usurper smiled, his pale face turned an eerie orange by the dancing flames.
“Why is he doing this?” shouted Elanor.
“The Codex,” said Mr. Roglea grimly. “He’s trying to make sure that it has as few books to manifest in as possible.”
The fire spread. Labarynth City was beginning to burn.
“The von Urchen field only deflects magical assault!” yelled Intinier. “We’ll be incinerated!”
A hurtling comet of flame hit the front of the restaurant. The pawed mage dove out of the way to escape the flames. The circle was broken.
Zefethelyan raised a hand triumphantly. A hammerblow of magical force hit the Lilete Pelisarn. Elanor saw a whirlwind of disjointed images- a tendril of shadow reaching into the shattered restaurant, green flames leaping from Lance’s fingers, the Codex weaving a mantle of violet light in front of her, Woodle screaming in panic.
Then darkness rose up around her, and she knew no more.

Chapter Six

Elanor woke to find herself in a dark cave. At least, she thought it was a cave given the darkness and dripping stalactites. Sitting up slowly, she heard voices. They were talking about something, she could only vaguely remember what had happened.
“Are you sure?” asked one of the voices, it sounded female.
“Positive. There aren’t any books within ten miles that weren’t horribly charred. You know the only things that survived were in that restaurant, and none of them were books.” She recognized this voice. Suddenly it dawned on her that it was Intinier and Lance. She started to get up painfully when they noticed her.
“What happened?” she asked woozily as the two helped her up.
“The Codex protected you and some of the restaurant for a few seconds, just enough for us to get out of there,” answered Lance. In the dim light Elanor could just barely see the soot and small wounds that covered her and the others.
“Where’s Mr. Roglea and everyone else?” Elanor asked. Intiner bit her lip and looked downwards. Lance put his hand on Elanors shoulder. Nobody answered in what seemed like an eternity to Elanor.
“Lance and I survived but . . .” Intiner trailed off.
“The only others were a Fenkin and you.” Lance finished for her. Elanor looked around and saw the furry mage from the restaurant. He appeared to be unconscious, but breathing.
The pawed mage- presumably a Fenkin- stirred. “Where are we?” he muttered.
“An old hideout of mine,” said Intinier. “I telelinked it to a trapdoor in the Lilete Pelisarn a few years ago in case things got nasty. Which they have. What’s your name, anyway? I haven’t seen you in my restaurant before.”
“Emburr du Kendomalin,” the Fenkin replied. “I was on the Xemoci Peninsula until recently, fighting Kaabne’s forces with the 12th Mage Platoon. I came to Labarynth City on leave. Speaking of which, is there anything left of Labarynth?”
“Not really. A couple of the foundation rods are still standing, but-”
Elanor tuned out. Her head was spinning. Mr. Roglea had always been amiable and supportive, kind to everyone who came into the Rose Cafe. Elanor had only found out who he really was a few hours ago, and now he was gone.
“WHAT?” Lance gasped, snapping Elanor back to the present.
“I don’t like it, but it’s true,” said Intinier. “The Rose Cafe is gone, and so is the gateway. Kolombent is no longer linked to Reality.”
“Oh, my. Oh, no! I want to get out of here! What â€“ how â€“ butï¿½” Elanor gasped.
“It’s gone. But we’ll just hop on over to South America!”
“Er â€“ South America? You’ve been spending way too much time in Reality, haven’t you?” said Emburr. “Where exactly is South America?”
Elanor interjected. “Well, you know: right underneath North America, of course! You know. If you look at a map . . .” she quickly pulled a thin stalactite off the ceiling and drew the Americas of Reality on the cave floor and circled South America, “That’s South America. Don’t tell me you’ve never even heard of it.”
“Um, Elanor, Emburr’s probably never heard of South America. Have you been to Reality, Mr. du Kendomalin?”
“No. I’m a Fenkin, unfortunately. I lived in stinking Evencald for most of my life. It’s not as if Athrana would let anyone leave of free will.”
“Here,” said Intinier, “South America corresponds to Lillixa.”
“Oh,” Emburr said. “Why didn’t you just say so?”
Lance noticed Elanor’s perplexed expression and began to explain. “Every continent in Reality has a corresponding continent in Etheterre. That’s why the gateways work, because of the linked elemental signatures and â€“ Look, it’s complicated. I’ll explain it some other time.”
“How will we get to Sou- I mean, Lillixa?” Elanor asked.
Emburr grinned. “Is there an acrotrain terminal nearby?” he asked.
“I think so,” Intinier replied. “We’re under my hometown, a few miles away from Labarynth, but- Can you drive an acrotrain?”
“Of course,” Emburr said. “I was in the army, remember?”
“All right,” said Intinier doubtfully. “There’s a passage to the surface over here.”
The company proceeded up a narrow gap of damp granite. Luminous lavender crystals poked from the rock at intervals, forming almost the only handholds. When Intinier finally emerged, she was met with a stunning sight.
A smoking wasteland stretched as far as the eye could see. Flares of red and green light flickered on the horizon. A tall steel tower lay bent and crumpled a few yards away.
“He wrecked the terminal,” gasped Lance. “He was here too.”
“There’s still hope,” said Emburr. “The acrotrain’s still up there.”
Elanor looked up and saw what was apparently an old steam locomotive, with seven carriages, hanging in the air a few hundred feet up. Then she began to notice differences. A large balloon, presumably filled with a buoyant gas, was attached to each carriage. The locomotive had propellers instead of wheels.
“How do we get up there?” gasped Lance.
“If only Woodle were here . . .” Intinier’s voice trailed off. The Xixin had not made it out of the Lilete Pelisarn.
Lance’s eyebrows suddenly shot up into his hair. “Elanor, remember what Nikolas said back in the restaurant? You inherited the gift of flying from your father, right?”
“Are you kidding?” exclaimed Elanor. “That thing is hundreds of feet up! Besides, I can’t fly anyway!”
“Well, it’s our only chance,” said Emburr. “Where’s a rope?”
“You’re all stark raving mad!” Elanor ejaculated.
“Mad? We’re a bit mad, yes, but that gets you through many a situation, does it not?” said Emburr pleasantly, trying to get her to fly. Twiggnth had told him that he flew much more easily when he was a) in a good mood and b) the only thing to help – under pressure or when he just had to do something .
All it seemed to do was make her angrier. But desperation sometimes worked! “You aren’t seriously suggestingâ€“”
Lance leaned forward a bit and whispered, “Well, Elanor, sometimes that’s the best way to go.”
“Fine! Mr. Roglea said ‘with practice,’ so I’ll be practicing for the next 730 days!” the extremely upset Elanor shouted.
She sat down, planning on sitting on the violet glowing dirt below her. Instead, she looked like a genie, sitting cross-legged in the air.
“Facinating! How do you do that, anyway?” the wide-eyed Fenkin exclaimed. Elanor didn’t know that the little creatures could make their eyes any larger.
“Do what?” she didn’t even know that she was sitting on air.
“Th â€“ th â€“ you know . . . sit on air? Twiggnth, in all of his lessons, never showed me that.”
“Oh, dear! Well, I don’t know.”
Intinier spoke up. “Let her concentrate, Emburr.”
Elanor felt like she was gelatin, tumbling down a river of dust, accumulating all of the fine powder. Then she became more of a syrup, pouring slowly up into a vacuum cleaner. Then, she felt light as air, like a feather, drifting around, never falling, with no purpose.
She woke up from her dreamy vision with a start.
“Well, now, are you done yet? That was quite a show, I must admit.”
“What did I- ” Elanor began to ask, then glanced down. She was hovering high in the air, about halfway to the acrotrain.
“That’s good!” Intinier called upward. “Keep going!”
Elanor tried to return to the dreamy mindset she had been in while flying, but it was hard. Unexpected thoughts kept popping into the blankness of her mind, creating the most unsettling sensations. She pinwheeled slowly in the air, shedding faint green sparks and feeling as though her chest cavity was filled with a few gallons of over-carbonated soda. Finally, though, she did it.
This time it was different. She remained sort of semiconscious, watching herself as though through rippled glass from a great height. She swung like an airborne pendulum a few times, then rocketed straight up, coming to a stop outside the locomotive.
“Great!” Emburr called. “Now step inside. There should be a rope ladder on the wall for emergency evacuations.”
As Elanor’s foot touched the floor, a jolt like an electric shock shot through her. She stumbled inside, feeling dizzy and nauseous.
It tottered threateningly, and then when she was really getting worried, it completely stopped moving. If she had been sweating, she would have wiped it from her brow. However, she hadn’t been, so she didn’t.
She cautiously stepped through the locomotive, looking for Emburr’s promised ladder. It was disguised well, and she didn’t find it until after she realized that she still had her backpack on.
Elanor fastened the rope ladder to two hooks just inside the doorway and threw it out. As it was several hundred feet long, it took several throws, but she finally managed it.
Emburr was the first to start climbing. “What did you fasten the ladder to?” he asked.
“Um . . . a couple of hooks on the wall over there,” Elanor replied.
“Sweet Imaganruis!!! Two hooks? TWO HOOKS? Are you quite serious?”
“Ummm . . . yes . . .” Elanor was beginning to get nervous.
Emburr grinned. “Good. That’s where they’re supposed to go.”
Lance was almost halfway to the top. “I forgot to tell you, Elanor,” he shouted. “Fenkins are renowned for their sense of humor.”
Really, thought Elanor. Gee, I hadn’t noticed.
Lance reached the locomotive next, then Intinier. “All right, what’s our plan of action?” inquired Emburr once they were all inside.
Intinier spoke. “First part of the plan; we get this acrotrain to Lillixa and then to Kaabne’s fortress- Kaabne is one of Zefethelyan’s subordinates. He rules Lillixa,” she added for Elanor’s benefit. “Then we get past his guards and any defenses, and then into the gateway and into Reality. Lastly, we go explain to Elanor’s mother.”
“The beginning and the end are great,” said Emburr. “But the middle will get us all killed. Do you have any idea of the size of Kaabne’s army?”
“You’re right.” Lance said bluntly. “We need help.”
“And I know just where to find it” Intinier said slyly, grinning.

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33

Alice the Oracle

in September 8th, 2007 @ 10:15

Where?” Emburr and Elanor said, simultaneously.
“All right,” Intinier began, suddenly very serious. She reached into a hatch in the wall and pulled out a map of what appeared to be South America. The names of the rivers were different, though, and the cities were in the wrong places.
Intinier tapped the map near the mouth of a squiggly blue line labeled “Nozama River.”
“When Woodle lived in Lillixa, he had a group of friends. It was, well, it was a book group.”
Elanor and even Emburr sniggered.
“I didn’t know Xixins liked to read,” Emburr commented politely, suddenly losing his laughter.
Intinier glared at him. “It wasn’t just any book group. It was the group of researchers for the Xixin Resistance.”
“They’ve been helpful to the Regency of Kolombent in the past,” said Emburr quizzically, “but there are only a few hundred of them. There are half a million in Kaabne’s army.”
“True,” said Intinier. “However, Woodle was a member of the Resistance in the past.” A shadow passed over Intinier’s face when she mentioned Woodle- it was literally a shadow, as the light radiating from her head dimmed. “He told me that they had discovered an ancient passage that may have led into Kaabne’s fortress. It was once the palace of a kind Xixin lord, you see, and he set up an escape route in case of attack. The exit to that route has been lost to time, since this was even before Etheterre was united under one king. But it may have been found again. Of course, if Woodle was right, the passage was long and tortuous, and may have been taken over by all manner of strange beasts since it was abandoned.”
“It’s better than fighting half a million Xixins,” Emburr said. “If you handle the maps, I can get you there.”

Intinier, Lance, and Emburr bent over the map for nearly ten minutes, discussing things like zoal quantity and degrees of precessitude. The sky, already getting darker in a sort of bluish sunset, speedily faded to ebony black, sprinkled with multicolored stars in unfamiliar patterns.
Intinier straightened up suddenly. “Oh, Imaganruis! None of you have had anything to eat!”
“Relax, Intinier,” said Emburr. “Anyone could have forgotten â€“ being attacked by a bloodthirsty egomaniac tends to make things slip one’s mind.”
“Unforgivable,” Intinier muttered. “I’m a phagomage , for Imaganruis’ sake.” She rummaged around in the multitude of pockets on her long, green, apron-like robe. “Does anyone have any sort of food at all?”
Emburr reached into the hatch again. “Um, a bottle of aquariol, eight Coldstane biscuits and a nobanana. Not much for dinner.”
“You’re talking to Intinier Carushaluk,” the phagomage replied. “I can make a meal out of anything.”
She pulled a complicated weave of metal from her largest pocket and flipped several clasps. The object expanded smoothly into a segmented pot. Intinier unfolded a tripod from beneath it and set it down on the floor. She snapped her fingers, and a long blue flame rose from the air below it with a hiss. Feeding the ingredients into it, she began to add spices and herbs from her various pockets, chanting a strange poem.
“I’m going to get the acrotrain started,” said Emburr, shutting the door and climbing into a padded leather seat.
Elanor approached Intinier. “Anything I can do to help?” she asked.
The phagomage looked up, surprised at the offer of aid from such a cynical-seeming girl. “Thanks, but no,” she said. “You and Lance should go back in the carriage. I’ll be down there as soon as I finish this.”
Following Intinier’s advice, Elanor stepped out of the door in the back of the locomotive. She stood on the small platform outside it for a few seconds, clinging to the rail and staring at the ruined countryside below. She hadn’t realized how much devastation the Usurper had caused. No lights showed but the faint glow of still-burning flames. She was beginning to feel queasy.
“Why am I afraid of heights?” Elanor muttered. “I can fly, for heaven’s sakes.” Without further ado, she stepped across and entered the carriage.
It was, well, it was an interesting place. Not exactly what she would call home, but she could live with it. “How long will it take us to get there, anyway?” she asked.
“Oh, sometimes it takes a week, sometimes it takes an hour. shouted Emburr from his seat. “It depends on the train’s mood.”
“A week?!?! Planes are so much more reliable! Although I can’t say I like those much, either.” Elanor sighed, remembering her only trip when she was five. People kept on shouting, and it sounded like nonsense in her ears.It was creepy. And of course, it didn’t help that she had carsickness. It was miserable.
Emburr laughed. “Planes? You expect us to give you a plane? We’re better than planes. I can give you magic.” He stepped out of the seat for a moment and opened what appeared to be a tiny cupboard, no bigger than, well, Elanor didn’t have anything to compare it to. It was about the size of the Codex, inside Teas from Around the Globe. “There you are! Now, I’ll say that’s better than any plane. And if you don’t like planes, you’ll learn to like acrotrains. I promise.”
“What’s so great about it, then?” she asked, still feeling queasy.
“It’s the greatest magic Twiggnth can teach you, that’s what! Open it up, now, this is getting silly.”
“Open what?”
“The little Tiggtle in there! See, the little Fenkin-looking thing?”
“Oh, yeah. He’s cute,” Elanor said, trying not to smile. It was hard not to love the green-eyed furry creature.
“He’s just a statue. Pull his head off.”
“Pull his head off? Never! He’s too cute!”
“Trust me, it’s okay,” Emburr said blandly. “The only way the magic tries to not be used is by making it seem too good or too dangerous to open. It’s silly, really. Just pull it off. If you like it that much, we can Lik-u it back together.”
“Okay . . .” Elanor looked at the box dubiously. “What’s inside?”
“How should I know?” replied Emburr.
“Whaâ€“ whatï¿½ you don’t know?”
“Of course not!” Emburr became serious. “Let me explain. I used to live in Evencald, that would be Africa in your world. It still makes me nostalgic. Lovely pine trees, majestic glaciers . . .” His enormous eyes became dreamy.
“GLACIERS??? In Africa?”
“Yeah, why not? Anyway, the Usurper of Evencald- Athrana’s her name- has a great aptitude for inventing new spells. She captured Twiggnth and brought him to Evencald after Zefethelyan seized power. She then stripped him of his magic while he was still alive- we still don’t know how she did that, but she’s always been the best at magical theory among the Usurpers.”
Emburr broke off and pulled a large lever next to his seat. With a rumble, the acrotrain started to vibrate. A blue-green light lit up, pulsing with tints of gold.
“She imprisoned Twiggnth in an ice cave,” he continued over the roar of the engine. “I found it while I was exploring near my hometown. He could no longer do magic, so he poured out all of his knowledge into me.
“Athrana learned of this after a few years and sent a troop of mages to deal with Twiggnth and me. I escaped, but he was killed. Before he died, though, he gave me this box, saying it should- and could- only be opened by his grandchild.”
Elanor slowly opened the box. The lid fell open, exposing the contents.
Elanor was unimpressed. Judging from the gasp of awe that Emburr let out, though, the glass bottle filled with swirling golden liquid was pretty powerful.
“His life force,” Emburr whispered. “Now I see. He gave it up, knowing he was doomed. If we can get that into the Codex, we’ll be unstoppable.”
“If we can find it, that is. Should I try calling it, or something?” Elanor said dully. “Yoohoo! Codex! Come ‘ere!” She paused. “As if that would work.”
“Er, well, actually, Elanor, something similar to that should be sufficient,” Lance cut in.
“How do you know? If something could work, I would know!” shouted Emburr, a bit louder than Elanor thought an animal of his size, or most any size, could.
Swiftly and unexpectedly, Intinier emerged, carrying a pot of wonderful-smelling something. “My goodness. What’s all the fuss about?”
“Er, nothing,” Lance and Emburr whispered simultaneously.
“Well, no matter what, you three need to eat. It’s hot Pingle soup. You should like it, Lance,” she said to the unappetized-looking young man. “You’ve never had it. Besides, you liked Pingley soup. It was invented by the same phagomage! Me! Now eat. We’ve got a long, er, amount of time ahead of us.”
“Well, actually, Intinierï¿½ â€“” interrupted the wide-eyed Fenkin.
“What? We don’t have a long time ahead of us?” Intinier asked, purely inquisitive.
“Look,” Emburr said. As one, the companions looked out the round windscreen of the locomotive.
Silhouetted against one of the rising moons, three small, round shapes darted out of sight.
“Xixin patrol, ” Lance said. “Kaabne is moving his forces out.”
“Great,” Elanor said, ducking. “We get to be right next to the cute floaty things. How fun.”
“It’s not a big deal, really. I mean, we have Twiggnth’s life force!” exclaimed Lance.
“You have what? ” Intinier gasped.
“The life force of Twiggnth Wing,” Lance repeated.
“Oh my gosh, if we can get that into the Codex . . .” Intinier whispered.
~~~~~
Wasn’t it decided that seeing as Elanor had books in her backpack, they wouldn’t need a book for the Codex to go into? Maybe we should destroy her backpack or something.

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34

Prarilius Canix

in September 11th, 2007 @ 19:55

“But we have to get to the Codex first,” Emburr said. “And that means getting to Reality, as the Usurpers have destroyed all books in Etheterre. And that means getting into the fortress of Kaabne. And that means getting to the passage. And that means getting into Lillixa unhindered. And that means,” he concluded, “getting rid of that patrol.”
The Fenkin suddenly grabbed a lever and pulled it all the way to the left. Propellers shrieking, the acrotrain spun around. Its carriages whipped towards the Xixins like the tail of an irritated cat, only faster and harder. The three floating creatures dove into the canopy of scorched treetops below. Emburr pulled the lever back to its original position. The vehicle shot forward, sending all but Emburr flying.
“She’s in a good mood,” the Fenkin said calmly. “We’ll get there by tomorrow. In the meantime, let’s all finish our soup and then get some sleep.”
By some miracle, the Pingle soup had not spilled a drop. Elanor picked her portion up and tasted a spoonful. It tasted like salsa and pickle relish, only with a lingering, citrusy-sweet aftertaste.
She took another bite. This time, it tasted just the same, but with more of a tropical taste. She had never had any tropical foods before, but it somehow conjured up images of lush jungle, white sand and blue sea.
“This is delicious,” she said to Intinier, who beamed- literally- with pride.
“We should all get some sleep now,” Lance said, as they finished up their soup. “I’ll come down and relieve Emburr at midnight- I’ve had some experience with acrotrains.”
The sleeping carriage was three cars back. Lance, Intinier and Elanor stepped carefully over the rickety platforms that separated the cars until they reached it.
It wasn’t what Elanor had expected. Along with the standard beds, which were themselves many different sizes, there was a perch-like affair and several raised baskets with nests of soft fabric inside them. She walked over to a medium-sized bed with an odd sort of silvery blanket that shifted colors depending on the angle of light hitting it. When she laid down, she found that it seemed to adjust in temperature and texture till it felt almost exactly the same as the old quilt on her bed at home. Almost. A strange, cold tingle passed through it at times, a sensation that reminded her of the locket that Mr. Roglea had given her.
It comforted her, and all she wanted to do was curl up under the blanket, and go to sleep – something she hadn’t done in what seemed like days. She drifted into a sleep with a dream that would be heaven to anyone but her.
It almost seemed more like a memory than a dream. She was looking almost directly across from two faces. One she recognized. It was her mother, but younger, and without the careworn lines that crisscrossed her forehead. The other was not really familiar, but she knew who it was just as well. The face from the locket. Atherton Wing. Her father.
They were standing on a balcony, looking outward over a landscape of strange, crystal towers, with a blue-green ocean in the distance. It was a warm summer night. Atherton raised his hand, pointing out a constellation to Elanor’s mother. “And that one’s the Triwing,” he said. “Legend has it that it was once a four-winged bird who carried messages for Etheterre’s first king. One day, a careless hunter shot at it, and it lost a wing, but it still flew onward and brought the message to the king. When it arrived, it perished from exhaustion, but its spirit was placed in the stars as a reward for its dedication.”
“Three wings. That’ll be us soon!” her mother said. Atherton laughed…
And Elanor woke up. The dream had reminded her of what she was expected to do. Everyone had relaxed somehow when they saw her, thinking, Ah, the future queen is here. Everything’s going to be all right. How could anyone think that she was ready to defeat the Usurpers and take control of a realm that she would never have believed in? She was just a kid! In that moment, all she wanted to do was to go home and forget that any of this existed.
Then she looked up at the porthole of the gently rocking acrotrain. The Triwing, flying through the stars, was as clear as ever outside. Though it had seemed like a meaningless pattern of stars when she fell asleep, she recognized it like an old friend now. The curving streams of green stars that formed its wings, the violet twinkle that was its beak, opened forever in a song of celebration and gratitude.
Then a dark pall of smoke curled across the sky and hid it from view. The ground was still smoldering from Zefethelyan’s attack, and a new flame had risen from the shattered buildings, seeming to dance with wicked glee.
Elanor snapped open the locket, looking at her father’s face and the inscription next to it.
Remembering your past is the key to unlocking your destiny.
Etheterre was her home, and she would not allow it to be crushed and conquered.
“Elanor? Are you all right?”
Emburr was standing across from her, holding a glowing, golden sphere of fine-grained wood in his paw.
She smiled. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a dream. Is it midnight already?”
“Elanor, it’s 5:30 in the morning. We’re almost at the Nozama River.”
“Well, I don’t think there’s much point in trying to get back to sleep,” Elanor said. “How far are we from the Nozawhatzit?”
“Elanor?” said Emburr quizzically. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Yes, of course! What do you mean?”
“You just seem soï¿½ interested ï¿½ all of a sudden.”
He’s right, she thought. I’ve really been acting cynical.
((Took out the whole “OverBoard” thing. Didn’t really seem like much came of it. They have plenty of motivation to get to Reality anyway. Brushed up a few other things to make it flow better.))

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35

the man for aeiou

in September 11th, 2007 @ 21:07

well, this therd is done intill twian hippo fan come here.

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36

Prarilius Canix

in September 11th, 2007 @ 22:15

I could go back and assemble a rough draft of the next few chaps. …

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37

the man for aeiou

in September 12th, 2007 @ 16:18

36- yeah, but there might be thing that THF changed. why is she not here? does puple panda know THF’s password? she could post it.

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38

the man for aeiou

in September 18th, 2007 @ 20:58

O.k. how about you start a squeal?

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39

the man for aeiou

in September 19th, 2007 @ 17:36

HEllo…

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40

Alice

in September 19th, 2007 @ 22:07

38- Canix isn’t here and THF never comes on.

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41

the man for aeiou

in September 20th, 2007 @ 16:06

40- and you can’t start? I might join.

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42

Alice

in September 20th, 2007 @ 16:44

41- Even so, that makes me, you, Kiara and Sobriquet. Sobriquet hasn’t been on for ages, neither has Kiara, and I have an enormous block. Let’s be courteous and wait until the other RRRiters get back.

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43

the man for aeiou

in September 20th, 2007 @ 16:50

42- hmm.

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44

Volanti of Phanland, trying out a thoroughly odd name (THF)

in September 22nd, 2007 @ 08:01

Meh.

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45

Alice

in September 22nd, 2007 @ 10:23

44- Agreed.

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46

TAM

in September 22nd, 2007 @ 21:22

44- post the rest! we can get off the ground.

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47

the man for aeiou

in September 23rd, 2007 @ 12:26

I keep doing that!

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48

Prarilius Canix

in September 29th, 2007 @ 17:09

TAIWAN HIPPO FAN, VOLANTI OF PHANLAND! PLEASE CLICK ON MY NAME, COME TO THE ETHETERRE EDIT THREAD, AND POST THE REST OF THE STORY.

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49

Prarilius Canix

in September 30th, 2007 @ 14:38

Gahhh. I know THF probably has a lot of other things to do, but it’s been 8 days since she even posted a monosyllable, and I’m getting kind of annoyed at our Keeper, probably since I want to get this edited up so we can start the sequel.

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50

Prarilius Canix

in September 30th, 2007 @ 14:41

Do any of you know of any threads in particular that the Admirer of Hippopotami from An Island Off the Southeast Coast of China frequents?

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51

the man for aeiou

in September 30th, 2007 @ 16:39

50- good sir, I have not seen her for along time, sicne the koconvention, at least. Her sister, a Chinese bear who color is a mixture of red and blue might give her a message. try september splash.

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52

Alice

in September 30th, 2007 @ 17:23

I’m going to e-mail her.

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53

the man for aeiou

in October 1st, 2007 @ 18:04

well, puple pand is going to reminder her. hope she comes here soon…

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54

Volanti of Phanland, trying out a thoroughly odd name (THF)

in October 1st, 2007 @ 19:14

Sorry people, I’m in a spot of trouble. I can’t seem to find the file. Horrid excuse, I know, especially since I’ve also been forgetting to visit here and stuff, but I’ll find it eventually, and in the meantime…. uh…. do something productive!

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55

Prarilius Canix

in October 1st, 2007 @ 19:43

54- Thanks, it’s good to know you’re doing something productive.

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56

Alice

in October 1st, 2007 @ 20:09

54- Well, that’s good. Productivity is always nice.

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57

PrÃ¦riliuÂ§ CÃ¦nix

in October 14th, 2007 @ 10:17

THF appears to have lost the file for good.

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58

PrÃ¦riliuÂ§ CÃ¦nix

in October 14th, 2007 @ 10:24

Any further introspection on Elanor’s part was halted as the gentle rumble of the acrotrain’s engines slowed down and faded to nothing.
A slight creak sounded near Intinier’s bed. As Elanor looked for the source, she spotted a small brass plate, inset in the wall, that seemed to be shifting. It dropped down on a hinge, revealing a short metal tube. Lance’s voice reverberated through the room. “We’re above the Nozama.”
“Fantastic!” Emburr shouted. Elanor looked out the window, immendiately wishing she hadn’t. Her stomach wobbled uncomfortably.
“What’s all the noise about?” Intinier asked.
“We’re over the Nozama,” Lance repeated through the tube. “Let’s go down. Get the landing ladder ready.”
“Why can’t we just fly right up to the Xixin Resistance base?” Intinier mumbled sleepily.
“We don’t even know if the Resistance still operates,” Emburr explained. “The Regency lost contact with them years ago. And even if they do, that area is sure to be heavily patrolled. Kaabne’s squadrons would notice an acrotrain miles off. We have a long trek ahead of us.”
“Great,” Elanor said. “Can we at least have some breakfast first?”
“Unkk,” was Intinier’s eloquent reply. Elanor couldn’t tell if it was a no or a yes, but considering how upset Intinier had gotten when she realized no-one had had lunch, she was a phagomage who took her job seriously. Plus, the glow of her skin was brightening from the dull coral it had taken on while she was asleep to its normal vibrant orange. Elanor thought that was a good sign.
“Of course!” Lance said. “That is, if there is any food to eatâ€¦”
Intinier rolled over and disappeared behind the bed’s canopy. A few minutes later, she emerged, wearing the same apronlike robe that she had the day before. “It’ll be nice to get into some proper rainforest again,” she said. “I’ll go down and try to collect some fruit. We used up everything in the food locker.”
Intinier groggily climbed down the ladder. Elanor paced the acrotrain, not able to think of a single thing she could do. Emburr had fallen back to sleep, or at least Elanor thought he had. It was hard to tell. She considered climbing down the ladder and seeing if she could find Lance and Intinier, but decided she was better off staying in the Acrotrain. Looking around, Elanor suddenly, though dazedly, realized her bookbag must have been disintegrated in the fire, along with all her homework. Somehow, it didn’t seem very important anymore. School yesterday seemed ages ago, the fight with brogan and her tiff with Mr. Blithe a dream. Elanor awoke frome her brief reverie to see an orange hand and the top of intiniers head just above the bottom of the doorway.
((More later.))

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59

Alice

in October 14th, 2007 @ 12:29

I’ve been thinking about the bookbag dilemma for a while now. If Elanor had her bookbag, then they wouldn’t need to go back to Reality. If she just realized that it had disintegrated, then they wouldn’t have been planning to go back to Reality. I tried to fix it in my edit but it got a bit out of hand and I gave it up.

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60

PrÃ¦riliuÂ§ CÃ¦nix

in October 14th, 2007 @ 12:50

59- But if she realized it had disintegrated, they’d be going back to Reality anyway to get a book! I thought that was the entire point!

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61

Alice

in October 14th, 2007 @ 21:20

59- Yes, but hadn’t they already decided to go back to Reality before she realized it had disintegrated? That was why they were going to Sounth America/whatever it’s Etheterran counterpart is called.

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62

PrÃ¦riliuÂ§ CÃ¦nix

in October 14th, 2007 @ 21:23

61- I don’t see how that’s a problem. If it disintegrated, they would just have extra motive to got to Reality.

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63

Alice

in October 14th, 2007 @ 21:38

62- Butâ€“butâ€“*greatly confused*

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PrÃ¦riliuÂ§ CÃ¦nix

in October 15th, 2007 @ 17:48

63- OK. Slow down.
Her bookbag disintegrated. There are no books remaining in Etheterre. Therefore, to get the Codex she has to go to Reality and find a book.
What’s the problem here? I don’t see one.

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Prarilius Canix who cannot WAIT for NaNoWriMo to begin in 9 days

in October 23rd, 2007 @ 21:27

This thread has died. Tomorrow, unless THF has posted the rest of the Keeper’s Edition, I shall begin compiling the story.

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66

the man for aeiou

in October 24th, 2007 @ 18:13

65- look, I’d began now. happyly, you only have to look on theard two. the bad news is that that that is a long theard.

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Prarilius Canix who cannot WAIT for NaNoWriMo to begin in 8 days

in October 24th, 2007 @ 19:00

66- Actually, I believe I would have to also look on the first thread to get the confrontation with the Midepils.
I’m kind of busy this week. I’ll begin compiling on the weekend.

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68

the man for aeiou

in November 26th, 2007 @ 21:31

67- start on number 198.

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69

Prarilius Canix, taking a break from NaNoWriMo

in November 26th, 2007 @ 21:35

Hmm.
I think I’ll make a list of all the threads I plan to return to after NaNo’s over.
This one
Terenika
Writing
RP Writing
Chronicles of Museica
PPP
And a new one I’ll take up:
RRR-SMAS-TT

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Prarilius Canix, taking a break from NaNoWriMo

in November 27th, 2007 @ 16:49

68- Tank you. I’ll do that after NaNo’s over.
Oh, and I’ll also return to Muse Fanfic. Don’t strangle me, TNO!

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the man for aeiou

in November 27th, 2007 @ 17:13

69-I will post the stroy intill just after the riddle here:
“Fantastic!” Emburr shouted. Elanor looked out the window, immendiately wishing she hadn’t. Her stomach wobbled uncomfortably.â€¨”What’s all the noise about?” Intinier asked.
“We’re over the Nozama River,” Lance repeated through the tube. “Let’s go down. Get the landing ladder ready.”â€¨”Why can’t we just fly right up to the Xixin Resistance base?” Intinier mumbled sleepily.â€¨”We don’t even know if the Resistance still operates,” Emburr explained. “The Regency lost contact with them years ago. And even if they do, that area is sure to be heavily patrolled. Kaabne’s squadrons would notice an acrotrain miles off. We have a long trek ahead of us.”â€¨”Great,” Elanor said. “Can we at least have some breakfast first?”
“Unkk,” was Intinier’s eloquent reply. Elanor couldn’t tell if it was a no or a yes, but considering how upset Intinier had gotten when she realized no-one had had lunch, she was a phagomage who took her job seriously. Plus, the glow of her skin was brightening from the dull coral it had taken on while she was asleep to its normal vibrant orange. Elanor thought that was a good sign.
“Of course!” Lance said. “That is, if there is any food to eatâ€¦”
Oh, man, I’m so sorry, I have to go do a bunch of other thingsâ€¦. I’m really sorry. I’ll try to say more next time.
Intinier rolled over and disappeared behind the bed’s canopy. A few minutes later, she emerged, wearing the same apronlike robe that she had the day before. “It’ll be nice to get into some proper rainforest again,” she said. “I’ll go down and try to collect some fruit. We used up everything in the food locker.”
Intinier groggily climbed down the ladder. Elanor paced the acrotrain, not able to think of a single thing she could do. Emburr had fallen back to sleep, or at least Elanor thought he had. It was hard to tell. She considered climbing down the ladder and seeing if she could find Lance and Intinier, but decided she was better off staying in the Acrotrain. Looking around, Elanor suddenly, though dazedly, realized her bookbag must have been disintegrated in the fire, along with all her homework. Somehow, it didn’t seem very important anymore. School yesterday seemed ages ago, the fight with brogan and her tiff with Mr. Blithe a dream. Elanor awoke frome her brief reverie to see an orange hand and the top of intiniers head just above the bottom of the doorway.
Intinier clambered back up into the carriage, triumphantly waving a bulging sack that appeared to be made from the same silvery material as the blanket on Elanor’s bed.â€¨”Did you find some food?” Emburr inquired as he attempted to wrestle his lower paws into some large leather thigh-boots.â€¨”Is the sky over Tsinglonk purple?” the phagomage replied, opening the sack and revealing a veritable cornucopia of bizarre fruit.
“Is that bleakfen I smell?” Emburr practically dove into the sack. After a few minutes of rummaging, he emerged with a bunch of black fruit that looked like a coffin and smelled like a dead fish. Despite the looks of disgust on the faces of his companions, he tore into it with relish. Intinier looked away. “I don’t know how that got into the sack. If you must eat it, do it outside the carriage.”
“Suit yourself.” Emburr went out the door, leaving Intinier to unpack the fruit. The phagomage took out the same segmented pot she had used to make the Pingle soup and put a small, battered lid on it. Then she spoke four words. The pot began to shake as though there was a very small, neurotic rhinoceros trapped inside.â€¨After a few minutes, the pot stopped vibrating and popped open, revealing a sort of slushy turquoise liquid. Intinier pulled several empty flasks from her pockets and began to fill them. Elanor was beginning to think that those pockets contained more than would normally fit into them.â€¨”By the Sahara Glacier, this is a surprise!”â€¨Elanor spun around to see Emburr poking his head into the carriage. His lips were stained with the indigo juice of the bleakfen, and a horrible odor of rotting sea life wafted from his mouth.â€¨”The Usurper doesn’t mess about,” he said. “He’s already chosen a subordinate to rule Kolombent.”â€¨Intinier leaped up and followed the Fenkin out. Elanor trailed both of them.â€¨As they entered the next carriage, they found Lance staring avidly at a large glass sphere that hovered in midair. Pictures were forming inside it. A large crowd, gathered round a raised stage, in subdued silence. A figure in a violet robe, embroidered with gold, standing on the stage.â€¨A silver mask covering the figure’s face.â€¨The figure on the stage raised its hands, and a strange nimbus of greyish light formed round its knuckles. “Gaelor!” the crowd roared. “Gaelor! Gaelor!”
Emburr broke the silence. “We need to get going. It’s almost dawn.”â€¨Lance tapped the orb, and the image of the newest Usurper disappeared. In its place were a few lines of angular black text.â€¨THANK YOU FOR WATCHING TSOTNO.â€¨Telesphere of the New Order
“Drat it,” Emburr snarled. “There’s nothing good on telesphere since TSOTNO got a monopoly on the stations.”â€¨”Of course there isn’t. What better way for the Usurpers to spread propaganda?” Intinier replied.â€¨”I see your point. Let’s get started on breakfast.”â€¨”No need.” Intinier held up one of the flasks she had been filling. “This is Qwestrade. Invented it myself. It provides all the nutrients of a meal. Tastes good, too.”â€¨”All right,” the Fenkin said. “Let’s get moving, then. It’s almost dawn.”
***
The odd group traveled down the ladder. Even Elanor decided that the time to practice flight was not now.â€¨”Hey Elanor! Why don’t you fly?” Emburr shouted upward. He was quite a bit farther down – he was built for two things – sticking to glaciers and climbing.â€¨”Umâ€¦. I thought it wasn’t a good ideaâ€¦ should I?”â€¨”Absolutely not! Flight uses quite a bit of energy and magic, and it would be easily detected!” Emburr smiled. “But why didn’t you want to fly?”â€¨”If you must know, I’m already feeling quite sick, and I don’t think that flight will help my fear of heights.” Elanor retorted.
“Oh,” Emburr said. “I guess I couldn’t understand that. We Fenkins live on the sides of glaciers for the most part, so we aren’t afraid of heights.”â€¨”Well, some of us happen to be, so could you stop bragging?”â€¨Emburr looked down, abashed. “Sorry.”
Battling her queasiness, Elanor managed to make her way down the ladder. The instant her feet touched the ground, her sigh of relief was interrupted by Intiniers almost violent shove of a bottle full of bright turquoise liquid at her. With and “Oomph”, Elanor grabbed the bottle with both hands, stumbling to keep her balance.â€¨”Come on!” Shouted Lance. Elanor could see her comrades were already 20 yards ahead, even though the underbrush was slowing them down.
Elanor rushed after them. “What’s the hurry?” she called.â€¨”Maybe she’s right,” Lance gasped. “Should we slow down?” He was in excellent condition, but the pace Emburr was setting would have tired a pronghorn antelope.â€¨The Fenkin slowed down a bit. “I apologize,” he said. “I’m just a little nervous about being in Lillixa. I don’t have very good memories of the Xemoci War.”
Intinier looked back, shading her eyes against the sun’s glare. “That acrotrain is rather conspicuous,” she said.â€¨Emburr smiled. “It won’t be in-” he consulted a small glass hexagon tied to his wrist- “seven seconds.”
He tilted the glass towards the train and looked through it. Then, swiftly, he untied it from his wrist and threw it – with amazing accuracy – underneath the train. It lit up with a blinding clear blue light, and then the train appeared not to exist.
“Whoa.” Lance whistled. “How long did it take you to set that up?”â€¨”Quite a while,” Emburr replied. “It was one of my graduation projects when I was studying with Twiggnth. I’ve used it a lot since then, so it only has enough juice left for a couple of hours, but we should be long gone by then.”
“Illiganrus! You’re really amazed, aren’t you? Disconfictiles were some of Twiggnth’s favorite things, and he discribed[misspelling intended]them amazingly well. I’d be glad to teach you – but not for awhile. We’d better get going.”
“Drink your Qwestrade, everyone!” Intinier said.
Elanor uncorked the flask and started drinking. It was spicy, sweet and refreshingly cool. As she continued to swallow it, though, it left a bitter aftertaste on her tongue.â€¨”Easy, there,” Intinier said. “Don’t drink it all at once. There are two servings in that bottle.”â€¨”Oh.” Elanor felt slightly foolish.â€¨”If everyone is quite finishedâ€¦” called Emburr impatiently. He had already started walking.â€¨*******â€¨The Etheterran sun rose in glory, casting pale violet light over the canopy of the Nozama Forest. ((Note: since most continents in Etheterre have different climates than their counterparts in Reality, let’s make it a temperate forest instead of a rainforest.)) The sunbeams filtered down through its high canopy of leaves, making a patchwork of violet and gold on the forest floor. The Nozama River flowed sedately along, unaffected by the morning excitement that gripped most of the forest creatures. The nocturnal ones were retiring to their dens, and the diurnal beasts were waking up and foraging. The forest echoed with gibberings and weird cries.â€¨A woonkledevver poked one of its heads around a trunk, its strong claws digging into the bark. It observed four strange figures trekking across the forest floor. Each one had an unusally powerful magical aura. The woonkledevver could see things like that with the large, faceted violet eye on the tip of its tail. It ignored the first three, whose auras were pretty standard. Granted, the black-haired one had an unusual color to his, and the furry one’s was the strongest of the three. But the girlâ€¦â€¨The woonkledevver’s observations were cut short by the call of a rynthhawk above the canopy. It scuttled off in search of a whalope skull to hide in.â€¨Each member of the group trudged along in silence, pondering and remembering.â€¨Lance thought about the power that he’d first discovered when he was seven years old. Since that time, he’d called it “inside Lance,” because he could only do it, somehow, when he concentrated on his center, harder and harder until it suddenly came to the surface. He had a strange way of convincing people, bringing them over to his side. And that was just one of its facets. Not even Nikolas had completely understood it.â€¨Emburr was remembering his first meeting with Twiggnth. He had been exploring a crag of a glacier that he was not familiar with, although it had been strictly forbidden by his parents. He thought at the time that it had to do with the big clumsy Fenkins in ornate suits who tried to chase him away with sharp sticks and flashes of light. (He later learned that these had been Athrana’s guards.) He had come up on this crag to hide from them, when suddenly a small hole had crumbled away from its side, and a man’s face peered through. I knew there was something familiar about Elanor when I saw her in the Lilete Pelisarn, he thought. Her chin was exactly the same shape as Twiggnth’s. Though, of course, most of his was concealed behind that long ivory beard.
Intinier was gazing around the forests that she hadn’t seen in so long, thinking about when her brother, Fentinor, had told her that he had never tasted such good glimsheei in his life. That was the happiest she had ever felt before she met Woodle. Her parents had begun to worry about what she could do, for all her strange interests, and that she would have to leave Tsinglonk. They knew that she would die quickly as a slave. [If that’s too off-topic, cut the last part. I want to make sure that her being recognized as eligible to be a phagomage is in there. And I’m sorry, I only have ideas for what Elanor is thinking, and definitely not enough to write about it.]
She remembered her brother, and she tried to hold back tears when she remembered him disappearing into the dark black waters of the Itlintanpok Ocean. But then she thought of the first meal she invented, Teic (a best-selling good-tasting vitamin drink) and she smiled again.
Elanor wondered about the life ahead of her. If she ever managed to defeat the Usurper (she thought it unlikely), would she be allowed to return to Reality, or would everyone expect her to remain in Etheterre? In this bizarre parallel world, did they even have something equivalent to school? Where was she going to live?â€¨Every member of the expedition trudged along in silence, occasionally taking a swig of the qwestrade, remembering, pondering and wondering.
“Hello, what have we here?” Emburr said suddenly. He had stopped at the base of a towering tree with thick, sprawling roots. A small gap in those roots opened up into a chamber inside the tree, perhaps scorched by a long- ago fire. The tree was so broad that, if it were cut down, two elephants could stand on the stump and still have room for a woodchuck, and so tall that none of the party could see the top.â€¨Intinier rummaged through her pockets, finally pulling out a battered map that was fraying around the creases. “Hmmmâ€¦” she muttered. “The degrees of precessitude match up, and the manuscript describes the entrance as being next to a tiny sapling. I think this is it.”
“Excellent!” Emburr said, and slipped through the gap. Elanor went next, pausing for a second, then gathering her resolve and stepping in. Muffled exclamations could be heard as Lance tried to squeeze his gangly body into the chamber, but Elanor paid no attention to him. She was too busy taking in her surroundings.â€¨If the chamber had been scorched by fire, it had long since healed. The walls were reddish wood, twisted and gnarled with age. But the floor was stone. Its only adornment was a symbol that looked like an ornate K.â€¨”That’s it,” Intinier gasped. “The seal of Lord Emeralek. He was the one who built the passage.”
Intinier stepped into the chamber, the light from her phosphorescent skin illuminating the dimness. She leaned over and pressed the symbol in the floor.â€¨Nothing happened.â€¨”Now, what was that?” she muttered. “The manuscript clearly statesâ€¦”â€¨Elanor tuned out. Her attention had been caught by a faint golden glow forming around Emeralek’s seal. Fascinated, she touched it.â€¨A loud snapping noise broke the silence, and Elanor felt something like an electric shock pass through her finger. The glow brightened, then stretched out into a razor-thin line of light that bisected the stone floor. The stone split, and the two halves began spreading apart, the seal remaining whole on a semicircular protuberance from the left half. Elanor was so surprised, she simply dropped without a sound onto the stairs below.
Here companions were torn between staring in open jawed awe and going to check on the fallen girl. Intinier was first to try to assess Elanors condition, but soon Lance and Emburr joined her. Intinier waved a bottle of spices under Elanor’s nose like smelling salts. Elanor slowly came to consciousness. She bolted upright, sneezing. She scrambled of the floor and backed away from the jar of spices intinier was now covering. Coughing a couple of times, she choked out “What is” before doubling over in a coughing fit.
“What was that?” Elanor finally choked out.â€¨”I think this is the passage,” Lance said. “Shall we start going down?”â€¨”I don’t see why not,” Intinier replied. “I hope everyone has enough Qwestrade left for another serving.”â€¨Each member of the group confirmed that his or her bottle was at least half full. Intinier pulled out the old parchment from one of her innumerable pockets, then led the way into the dark tunnel. Emburr went next, followed by Elanor, who was determined not to be in the back of the line again. Lance took up the rear.â€¨As they went down the spiral stairs, the light filtering down from above got dimmer and dimmer. While there was still a small amount of illumination, Intinier fished two long steel rods out from under her robe. She tossed one to Lance and held hers perfectly vertical. With a whoosh, trails of smoky phosphorescence shot to the top and flickered there like an insubstantial flame. “I thought I ought to bring these,” she said. “Luckily there was a stash of them on the acrotrain.”
The stairway soon leveled off into a crumbling passageway of black rock. The light from the strange torches that Intinier and Lance were holding did little to drive back the utter darkness. Emburr and Lance attempted some cheery banter to keep spirits up, but eventually they fell silent, overcome by the gloominess of the tunnel.â€¨To Elanor, it seemed as though past and future had disappeared. Her world had contracted into a fleeting moment of trudging wearily along in the dimness, watching Emburr’s furry back in front of her and the flickering shadows cast by the torches.â€¨She was brought sharply back to reality by Intinier’s shrill scream.â€¨In front of her, Emburr tensed, a violet light beginning to glimmer from his palms. Lance shouted and dropped his torch, as did Intinier. The entire tunnel was black as pitch. And out of the darkness, horrifyingly close, came two glutinous voices that sounded as though they were bubbling through slime.â€¨”Four of themâ€¦ Two to me, two to thou.”â€¨”I claim the tender humans.” This was followed by a noise that sounded like something licking its lips.â€¨The first voice came in again. “What riddles shall we ask?”â€¨”Oh, qaadrekth,” Emburr whispered. “Midepils.”
Inexplicably, the torches flared up once more. In their pale light, a creature like a ten-foot banana slug could be seen crawling out of a crevice. It held the top four feet of its body upright and perpendicular to the ground, and it had four muscular arms, each with three stubby fingers, on the upper part of this psuedo-torso. From the base of each finger sprouted a long, serrated blade. The eyes, set on stalks, were a brilliant, viridian green that bespoke an alien cunning. Despite its revolting aspect, it had a pleasant, if rather musky, odor, like incense and sandalwood. Lance snatched up his torch and whirled around, only to find the path behind them blocked by an identical creature.â€¨”Three of ye know the rules, I believe,” said the first being. “We ask each of ye a riddle. If all of ye answer your riddles, we ask one that all of ye together must solve. If ye answer correctly, ye may pass. If ye dost not-“â€¨A long tongue slithered out from its mouth and pensively licked the broad lips.â€¨”I just hate Midepils,” Emburr muttered.
The second Midepil shot out its tongue with shocking speed. It curled around Emburr’s neck and reeled him past Lance until he was staring into the Midepil’s face. Slimy saliva dripped from the tongue. Emburr shuddered with revulsion.â€¨Somehow, the Midepil still managed to speak. “For that, thou shalt have the honor of going first.”â€¨It dropped Emburr unceremoniously and pinned him to the stone floor between two of its finger blades. Then it began to recite.â€¨”Without me all things would die.â€¨I fall quickly from on high.â€¨Devoured I am with teeth of green,â€¨But still I come, and still I’m seen.”
“Ummmâ€¦” Emburr thought hard. Do this logically, he ordered himself. Without me all things would die. The sun. It applied both in Reality and Etheterre. I fall quickly from on high. The sun doesn’t fall. Next line. Devoured with teeth of green. What has green teeth? He could only think of one thing, the glacial rukrar. He had had a narrow escape from that beast once. He shuddered as he remembered the creature’s mouth opening, showing green, leaf-shaped incisors-â€¨Leaves. What do leaves eatâ€¦â€¨”Sunlight!” he cried triumphantly.
“BAH!” the Midepil spat, spraying globules of slime. “‘Tis thy turn.”â€¨The first Midepil slithered forward. “Hmmmâ€¦ Haven’t had human in ages. The young one looketh most tender, but the larger one hath more meat upon him.”â€¨The creature suddenly came to a decision, advancing on Lance.â€¨”Hidden the ending,â€¨In mid’ the beginning,â€¨The first part existing,â€¨Not losing or winning.â€¨The words come together,â€¨To signify ‘start’,â€¨Add the sound of a bell,â€¨Then take off the first part.”
“Erâ€¦” Lance thought. “Could you repeat it, slowly?”â€¨The Midepil did.â€¨Lance wrote it down on the ground. He came up with these pieces of writing:â€¨n or enâ€¨n or ginâ€¨ex or eâ€¨”Engineâ€¦.” Lance pondered.
Lance squeezed his eyes shut, concentrating. Mid’ the beginningâ€¦ The middle syllable was “gin.” The first partâ€¦ Existing. Is, are, beâ€¦Be. Gin. Begin! Add the sound of a bellâ€¦ Beginring? Take off the first partâ€¦Eginring? What about the first part of “ring?”â€¨”Beginning!” he exclaimed.
“I am thâ€¦” He started.â€¨”The answer is the pink slime beast of Zundor.” Intinier interjected.â€¨Elanor was in awe. “How did you know?” she asked. Intinier seemed to shrug, though it was hard to tell with Capenlents. “The answer to the third riddle is ALWAYS the pink slime beast of Zundor.” she replied. Elanor gulped. It was her turn.
The first Midepil slithered forward. “And for thee, girl,” it said, “the Riddle of Thusfinks.”â€¨Intinier gasped. “She’s just a girl! Nobody has ever managed to solve- “â€¨”Silence, Capenlent.”â€¨”But-“â€¨”Hold thy tongue or I’ll rip it out.”â€¨”Thusfinks was a great philosopher,” the creature said to Elanor. “But in his old age he waxed eccentric, and spoke oft in riddling poems. Upon his deathbed he recited this riddle. None have ever solved it.” The Midepil licked its lips. “We use it when travelers think they are overly smart.”
A smile crossed the Midepil’s face, and it continued speaking.â€¨”When a traitor takes the throneâ€¨He cannot be faced alone.â€¨Four confront him without hope,â€¨Yet there are things beyond their scope.â€¨A child, heir to crown and book,*â€¨Another, changing with a look,**â€¨A cook who comes through whirling sand,***â€¨A mage, who trained with usurped hand.****â€¨What are their names, these four who fightâ€¨Against the onset of the night?”â€¨”Sounds more like a prophecy to me,” said Lance, who had never heard it before.â€¨”No matter,” the Midepil said. “She must answer.”
Elanor thought. And thought. Her brain felt like it was exploding. It didn’t help that the Midepil was staring hungrily at her.â€¨In her concentration, she failed to notice that she was hovering a few feet off the tunnel floor.â€¨The Midepil slithered backwards in shock. “Heir to crown and book,” it murmured.â€¨Heir to crown and book, Elanor thought. Is that me?â€¨Everything suddenly fell into place. Of course, she realized. It’s us. It is a prophecy. Since it was phrased like a riddle, people tried to answer it. And they all failed. Until now.â€¨She began to speak. “Elanor Wing. Intinier Carushaluk. Emburr du Kendomalin. Lanceâ€¦?” She trailed off. Lance hadn’t told her his last name. And that brought her to another puzzle. Was he the one who changed “with a look?” Perhaps it had something to do with how he had seemed to transform, back in the Rose Cafe. Back in Reality. It all seemed so long ago.â€¨”BAH!!!!!!!!!” the Midepil spat. “We’ll have to let them go.”â€¨”Not so fast,” said the other. “They must answer the group riddle.”
“Imaganrius.” Intinier whispered. “These can be hard or easy. Let’s just hope.”

One Midepil began, “This riddle will useâ€¨All thee togetherâ€¨For a line of small words
The other Midepil looked straight at Elanor, but did not hold her. “You – Your brother said boo-booâ€¨When he was quite youngâ€¨In other new wordsâ€¨He used a similar tongueâ€¨If you take out an eâ€¨from a part of that wordâ€¨The start of the stringâ€¨Soon will be heard.” It gestured towards the other Midepil to continue.
Thy father once told theeâ€¨You came from a beastâ€¨It ate what it found, see,â€¨- It could eat quite a feast
If thou can rememberâ€¨The sound of those creaturesâ€¨Or the sound of one memberâ€¨Of all of its featuresâ€¨You will be the secondâ€¨To be a string teacher
“Isn’t that a good pun?” said the Midepil proudly. “Anyway:
Half of that wordâ€¨Must be deletedâ€¨Or t’will sound quite absurdâ€¨When with the rest it is treated.
Just one letter for theeâ€¨But it’s one you know wellâ€¨It’s inside the word kneeâ€¨If you know how to spell
“That should make it quite easy!”â€¨You say. That it does.â€¨Be sure not to get queasyâ€¨Or fill your brain up with fuzzâ€¨If you think the trick’s sleazyâ€¨You should look at a Was
He was stuck on this riddleâ€¨The very same oneâ€¨His thumbs just went twiddleâ€¨And his life was then done
It was your mother’s favorite letterâ€¦.
[Lance]
This one’s easy, young ladâ€¨If you know what do doâ€¨You just take out a smallâ€¨Little letter – it’s trueâ€¨From a word that has a small meaning – to you
The word is one in the group of “to be”â€¨It is said after “You”â€¨The right letter removedâ€¨is the key
For Elanor, it was easy. It was a running joke in her family that her cousin Gary always said “sure” instead of “yes.” Removing an E, thoughâ€¦ That just left her with “sur.” Perhaps it was a syllable.â€¨Intinier was puzzled for a while, until she remembered the time her father had told her about the snake-haired Gorgons, and how Intinier’s folk, the Capenlents, were slightly more amiable descendants of that species. She brushed away a luminous tear as she thought about her father, who was still stuck in that hellhole of the slave compound in Usurper Hiskar’s palace.
“I’ve got mine,” Emburr muttered. “It’s “K”.”â€¨”Snaky hairâ€¦ Hiss,” Intinier murmured. “Ss? Hi? Is?”â€¨”Well, my part was easy,” Elanor said. “It’s Sur.”â€¨”Surâ€¦ hissâ€¦ Kâ€¦” Lance pondered. “Mine’s “Ar.” Surriskar!”â€¨”What in the world is Surriskar?” Elanor wanted to know.â€¨”It corresponds to Australia,” Intinier whispered excitedly. “By xum, I think you’ve got it, Lance!” Out loud, she said, “Surriskar!”â€¨”AARRGH!” the first Midepil howled in frustration. “The most tender meal we’ve gotten in centuries, and thou hast let it SLIP AWAYâ€¦ I’m TIRED of eating Wubbs!” As it said this, it skewered several gelatinous balls that were quietly bouncing past.â€¨”I let them slip away?” the second Midepil said, its claws sliding out with an ominous “shiick.” “Maybe thou shalt serve for a meal in place of these!” It slithered past the travelers and leaped on its companion. Intinier quickly hurried down the passage, the others following the flickering light of her torch.
As the angry gurgles of the riddling Midepils faded into the distance, Elanor noticed that the path was slanting upward into rough-hewn steps. The stairway slowly began to spiral upward. Already hungry, and becoming more so, most of the odd little group took several swigs of Qwestrade on the way up.â€¨Finally, they emerged through an angular doorway into a room that was medium-sized in all respects except for the ceiling. That was at least fifty feet up. In the wall near the ceiling, there was a large, granite gate with the now-familiar seal of Emeralek emblazoned on it.â€¨”Of course,” moaned Lance. “This tunnel was built for Xixins. There’s no way a non-hovering creature could get up there.”â€¨”I could try flyingâ€¦” Elanor suggested doubtfully.â€¨”Absolutely not,” stated Emburr. “So close to Kaabne’s fortress, the energy discharge would bring down an army on us before you could say knife. We’re pretty well stuck.”
Lance, Elanor, Initier and Emburr began thouroghly searching the room for any other way to get to the top of the room. They could just barely see the beginnings of another tunnel at the top of the room, and knew that they needed to continue quickly, lest they fell prey to some other dangerous predicament. Throughout the search, Emburr never dimmed his humor and continously told jokes, though the others began to despair of ever finding a way up and out.â€¨Soon, however, Emburr was the one who came upon a small item that seemed rather out of place. He had climbed up the back of a tall chair and was trying to swing from a tapestry on the wall when the cloth came free and revealed a picture that had been hidden behind it. It was one of a small girl, no older than one or two, with her hand on the back of a patient-looking dog with a background of lush, rolling hills and a town in the distance. Elanor was puzzled by this; it was obviously from her native world and had to idea what it was doing in Etheterre. Her companoins were equally confused, and Initier gently took the picture off of the wall to examine it more closely.â€¨Emburr quickly got bored of the painting and turned around to see if there was anything more interesting to do. He gave a short yelp of surprise, which startled the other three to see what had startled him.â€¨While the companions had been scrutinizing the painting, the circular tile pattern that had been at the center of the room had silently risen into a spiral staricase that reached almsot all the way to the ceiling. I now loomed above them, daring to climb it’s narrow, winding stairs and somehow reach the tunnel on the wall from the middle of the room. Slowly and carefully, they began to ascend the treacherous stair.
Emburr went first with his usual bravado, striding up the steps as though he was out for a Sunday stroll. Lance followed, more cautiously, with Elanor and Intinier bringing up the rear.â€¨With a sudden crack, a piece of tile fell away beneath Emburr’s feet, and he swung precariously to regain his footing. Intinier gasped in alarm as the Fenkin stumbled upwards and finally reached equilibrium on all fours. He was a little shaken, but he still didn’t lose his sense of humor. “Whoever built this stair ought to be incinerizated,” he grumbled, as he continued to climb.
Emburr reached the door first. He tried to open it, but found that it was wedged in place. “A little help here?” he said.â€¨Lance came forward and began to push against it. Emburr joined him, and slowly it began to shift.

there. edit. it think now it is 36 or so.

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72

Prarilius Canix, taking a break from NaNoWriMo

in November 27th, 2007 @ 17:21

“Fantastic!” Emburr exclaimed. Elanor looked out the window, immendiately wishing she hadn’t. Her stomach wobbled uncomfortably.
“What’s all the noise about?” Intinier asked.
“We’re over the Nozama River,” Lance repeated through the tube. “Let’s go down. Get the landing ladder ready.”
“Why can’t we just fly right up to the Xixin Resistance base?” Intinier mumbled sleepily.
“We don’t even know if the Resistance still operates,” Emburr explained. “The Regency lost contact with them years ago, remember. And even if they do, that area is sure to be heavily patrolled. Kaabne’s squadrons would notice an acrotrain miles off. We have a long trek ahead of us.”
“Great,” Elanor said. “Can we at least have some breakfast first?”
“Unkk,” was Intinier’s eloquent reply. Elanor couldn’t tell if it was a no or a yes, but considering how upset Intinier had gotten when she realized no-one had had lunch, she was a phagomage who took her job seriously. Plus, the glow of her skin was brightening from the dull coral it had taken on while she was asleep to its normal vibrant orange. Elanor thought that was a good sign.
(Removed some redundancies and awkwardness. Not substantial, but good enough. More later when NaNo is, if not caught up, at least not quite so hopelessly behind.)

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73

Alice

in December 6th, 2007 @ 19:21

*greatly confused* MB is not good for editing.

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74

Prarilius Canix

in December 6th, 2007 @ 19:23

73- I concur.

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75

Prarilius Canix

in December 12th, 2007 @ 18:16

Intinier rolled over and disappeared behind the bed’s canopy. A few minutes later, she emerged, wearing the same apronlike robe that she had the day before. “It’ll be nice to get into some proper rainforest again,” she said. “I’ll go down and try to collect some fruit. We used up everything in the food locker.”
Intinier groggily climbed down the ladder. Elanor paced the acrotrain, not able to think of a single thing she could do. Emburr had fallen back to sleep, or at least Elanor thought he had. It was hard to tell. She considered climbing down the ladder and seeing if she could find Intinier, but decided she was better off staying in the acrotrain. Looking around, Elanor suddenly, though dazedly, realized her bookbag must have been disintegrated in the fire, along with all her homework. Somehow, it didn’t seem very important anymore. School yesterday seemed ages ago, the fight with Brogan and her tiff with Mr. Blithe a dream.
Elanor awoke frome her brief reverie to see an orange hand and the top of Intiniers head just above the bottom of the doorway. The phagomage clambered back up into the carriage, triumphantly waving a bulging sack that appeared to be made from the same silvery material as the blanket on Elanor’s bed. “Did you find some food?” Emburr inquired as he attempted to wrestle his lower paws into some large leather thigh-boots.
“Is the sky over Tsinglonk purple?” Intinier replied, opening the sack and revealing a veritable cornucopia of bizarre fruit.
“Is that bleakfen I smell?” Emburr practically dove into the sack. After a few minutes of rummaging, he emerged with a bunch of black fruit that looked like a coffin and smelled like a dead fish. Despite the looks of disgust on the faces of his companions, he tore into it with relish. Intinier looked away. “I don’t know how that got into the sack. If you must eat it, do it outside the carriage.”
“Suit yourself.” Emburr went out the door, leaving Intinier to unpack the fruit. The phagomage took out the same segmented pot she had used to make the Pingle soup and put a small, battered lid on it. Then she spoke four words. The pot began to shake as though there was a very small, neurotic rhinoceros trapped inside.
After a few minutes, the pot stopped vibrating and popped open, revealing a sort of slushy turquoise liquid. Intinier pulled several empty flasks from her pockets and began to fill them. Elanor was beginning to think that those pockets contained more than would normally fit into them.â€¨
“By the Sahara Glacier, this is a surprise!”
Elanor spun around to see Emburr poking his head into the carriage. His lips were stained with the indigo juice of the bleakfen, and a horrible odor of rotting sea life wafted from his mouth.â€¨”The Usurper doesn’t mess about,” he said. “He’s already chosen a subordinate to rule Kolombent.”â€¨
Intinier leaped up and followed the Fenkin out. Elanor trailed both of them. As they entered the next carriage, they found Lance staring avidly at a large glass sphere that hovered in midair. Pictures were forming inside it. A large crowd, gathered round a raised stage, in subdued silence. A figure in a violet robe, embroidered with gold, standing on the stage.â€¨A silver mask covering the figure’s face.â€¨The figure on the stage raised its hands, and a strange nimbus of greyish light formed round its knuckles. “Gaelor!” the crowd roared. “Gaelor! Gaelor!”

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76

Î¡Ã–ÅžÎÄˆ

in January 9th, 2008 @ 17:16

Jurg! This thread is dead! MujUSustThar WRaiisaaaatITaeaiE~!!!!
I think what we need to do is edit and write the next installment simultaneously, on different threads, like with the Sci-Fi RRR.

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Alice

in January 12th, 2008 @ 19:15

76- Agreed!

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78

Î¡Ã–ÅžÎÄˆ

in January 13th, 2008 @ 11:43

It would be easier if we had separate threads for writing and editing. This one will remain the editing thread for part 1, and we’ll write part 2 on a new thread.

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Î¡Ã–ÅžÎÄˆ

in January 13th, 2008 @ 14:09

nudge nudge, wink wink…. ← @ GAPAs

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Alice

in January 13th, 2008 @ 14:21

*seconds*

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81

Î¡Ã–ÅžÎÄˆ

in January 13th, 2008 @ 14:56

Emburr broke the silence. “We need to get going. It’s almost dawn.”
Lance tapped the orb, and the image of the newest Usurper disappeared. In its place were a few lines of angular black text. THANK YOU FOR WATCHING TSOTNO: Telesphere of the New Order
“Drat it,” Emburr snarled. “There’s nothing good on telesphere since TSOTNO got a monopoly on the stations.”
“Of course there isn’t. What better way for the Usurpers to spread propaganda?” Intinier replied.
“I see your point. Let’s get started on breakfast, eh?”
“No need.” Intinier proudly held up one of the flasks she had been filling. “This is Qwestrade. Invented it myself. It provides all the nutrients of a meal. Tastes good, too.”
“All right, no need to start an advertising campaign,” the Fenkin forestalled her. “Pass ’em out. We need to leave.”

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82

THF

in January 14th, 2008 @ 14:57

I apologize for being so behind-the-times, but who is Î¡Ã–ÅžÎÄˆ?

I have one editing proposal – Telesphere pretty much means sphere of transportation. I understand that it sounds better than spherovision, but it doesn’t make much sense. Then again, I don’t have any better ideas for the name, so you might as well keep it with telesphere.

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83

The Man for Aeiou

in January 14th, 2008 @ 17:25

82- canix.

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84

Taiwan Hippo Phan

in February 25th, 2008 @ 16:24

We need to so some work on adding Emburr’s sense of humor. It seems a bit glum without it, if you know what I mean.

I think that’s all I was going to say…

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85

Î¡Ã–ÅžÎÄˆ

in February 25th, 2008 @ 17:37

84- Well, he demonstrates it at times, but perhaps we ought to work it in more.

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86

Taiwan Hippo Phan

in February 28th, 2008 @ 15:23

85 – Right. That’s essentially what I meant.

By the way, bleakfen = perfect word.

let’s try this:

With his longer legs, Lance reached the door first. He tried to open it, but found that it was wedged in place. “Dratted door,” he sighed between shoves.
“Click your heels three times, maybe?” Emburr came forward. “Sorry,” he followed, “I’ll assume not.” and began to push against the door. Lance joined him, and slowly it began to shift.

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87

Admirer of Hippopotami/uses from An Island Off the Southeast Coast of China

in March 1st, 2008 @ 13:21

*Change “maybe” to “perhaps.” I think that would make more sense. And I was thinking that if I were the one editing this, which I am, clicking heels 3 times is a Reality thing. How would Emburr know about the Wizard of Oz?

With his longer legs, Lance reached the door first. He tried to open it, but found that it was wedged in place. “Dratted door,” he sighed between shoves.
“Click your heels three times, perhaps?” Emburr came forward. “Sorry,” he followed, “I’ll assume not.” and began to push against the door. Lance joined him, and slowly it began to shift.

That’s edit #1
Edit #2: That was a horrible place to add Emburr’s humor. We already have plenty in that spot.

I’ll look some more later.

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88

oxlin

in April 10th, 2008 @ 17:04

can I help edit? I wrote at the very beginning. I can help edit if you’d like.

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89

POSOC

in April 10th, 2008 @ 17:10

88- By all means. You were the one who requested it, weren’t you?

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90

Taiwan Hippo Fan

in April 10th, 2008 @ 17:18

88 – Of course! We’ll appreciate your help. I remember you in the beginning – the thread was your idea, and you wrote the first or second post, right?

Anyway, definitely, edit wherever you feel it’s necessary (and tell us what you’re editing, of course)

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91

kiwimuncher (2 B-Day points)

in July 27th, 2008 @ 15:33

Wow. I guess editing here is slow……. THere have been no posts since……. April……. *dies*

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92

kiwimuncher (2 B-Day points)

in July 27th, 2008 @ 15:38

Well, perhaps this thread should get active again, since everyone seems to have decided that Elanor is a Mary Sue. This sounds like it should be fixed and it is frankly a HUGE problem! So………. I guess this is the thread to fix it……… Erm……… I guess……. hello……..

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93

POSOC with 5 BP and 60 IWP: 23 wung points, embedded (bara brith, chorley cake)

in July 27th, 2008 @ 15:57

Hello.

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94

kiwimuncher (2 B-Day points)

in July 28th, 2008 @ 20:39

Hello! Yay!

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95

kiwimuncher (2 B-Day points)

in August 14th, 2008 @ 13:54

Oh……FIDDLESTICKS!

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96

Taiwan Hippo Fan

in August 25th, 2008 @ 09:08

Can we change the “@#%! Alarm” part in the beginning? That doesn’t seem like Elanor.

I would also like to take out the whole Elanor-has-skipped-two-grades-and-is-really-good-at-math-oh-see-how-perfect-she-is thing. I don’t know how to do that, but I really think it’s necessary.

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Alice

in August 25th, 2008 @ 10:54

96- Agreed on both points.
When I’m less tired, I can fix them.

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98

Taiwan Hippo Fan

in August 25th, 2008 @ 11:38

Take a look at these passages – they don’t seem to work, in various ways (I haven’t gone through the whole thread in a while, so I don’t know what’s already been fixed):

ï¿½Well,â€ Lance continued, looking a little uncomfortable, â€œZefeth-â€
He didnâ€™t get any farther, because Mr. Roglea had gagged him. â€œDonâ€™t say that name!â€ he snarled.

â€œTea!â€ he said. â€œTea – Did you see anything, Elanor?â€
ï¿½Sort ofï¿½what do you mean?â€
ï¿½This is a strange book. It changes.â€ he whispered. â€œLook at it, and youâ€™ll see what you should see. But only when you need to see it.â€
ï¿½Codex Aetherica?â€ she asked cautiously. â€œWhat? I didnâ€™t see much. And why did I need to see that?â€

ï¿½ Umï¿½ phagomage? What in the world is that?â€ asked Elanor.

You know what, at some point I’ll go through the thread and the story (while returning to my Keeper’s duties), edit absolutely everything I can, and all that stuff. Right now, though, I don’t feel like it.

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99

Alice

in August 25th, 2008 @ 11:53

98- Those question marks drive me mad. Why are they here?

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100

kiwimuncher (2 B-Day points) (50 Muszey points)

in October 4th, 2008 @ 09:19

Man. Now I feel bad. Cause I went on here. And I posted. And I checked a few times. But I decided no one was posting. And then I forgot about it. And now I’ve come back. And I feel bad.

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kiwimuncher (2 B-Day points) (50 Muszey points)

in October 4th, 2008 @ 09:43

OK. So, where did you guys stop editing? I tried reading this thread to figure it out but it got a little confusing………. I mean, I’m not very good at editing, but I’m going to try……… because I like this story…….. And I want it to be good…..

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kiwimuncher (2 B-Day points) (50 Muszey points)

in October 29th, 2008 @ 20:44

OK. So I guess I’ll just start here….

The odd group traveled down the ladder. Even Elanor decided
that the time to practice flight was not now.â€¨â€Hey Elanor! Why donâ€™t you fly?â€ Emburr shouted upward. He was quite a bit farther down – he was built for two things – sticking to glaciers and climbing.â€¨â€Umâ€¦. I thought it wasnâ€™t a good ideaâ€¦ should I?â€â€¨â€Absolutely not! Flight uses quite a bit of energy and magic, and it would be easily detected!â€ Emburr smiled. â€œBut why didnâ€™t you want to fly?â€â€¨â€If you must know, Iâ€™m already feeling quite sick, and I donâ€™t think that flight will help my fear of heights.â€ Elanor retorted.
â€œOh,â€ Emburr said. â€œI guess I couldnâ€™t understand that. We Fenkins live on the sides of glaciers for the most part, so we arenâ€™t afraid of heights.â€â€¨â€Well, some of us happen to be, so could you stop bragging?â€â€¨Emburr looked down, abashed. â€œSorry.â€
I don’t know about this passage. Kind of…… I don’t know. What do you guys think?
Battling her queasiness, Elanor managed to make her way down the ladder. The instant her feet touched the ground, her sigh of relief was interrupted by Intiniers almost violent shove of a bottle full of bright turquoise liquid at her. That’s confusing. Perhaps a rewording there?With and â€œOomphâ€, Elanor grabbed the bottle with both hands, stumbling to keep her balance.â€¨â€Come on!â€ Shouted Lance. Elanor could see her comrades were already 20 yards ahead, even though the underbrush was slowing them down.
Elanor rushed after them. â€œWhatâ€™s the hurry?â€ she called.â€¨â€Maybe sheâ€™s right,â€ Lance gasped. â€œShould we slow down?â€ He was in excellent condition, but the pace Emburr was setting would have tired a pronghorn antelope.â€¨The Fenkin slowed down a bit. â€œI apologize,â€ he said. â€œIâ€™m just a little nervous about being in Lillixa. I donâ€™t have very good memories of the Xemoci War.â€
Intinier looked back, shading her eyes against the sunâ€™s glare. â€œThat acrotrain is rather conspicuous,â€ she said.â€¨Emburr smiled. â€œIt wonâ€™t be in-â€ he consulted a small glass hexagon tied to his wrist- â€œseven seconds.â€
He tilted the glass towards the train and looked through it. Then, swiftly, he untied it from his wrist and threw it – with amazing accuracy – underneath the train. It lit up with a blinding clear blue light, and then the train appeared not to exist.
â€œWhoa.â€ Lance whistled. â€œHow long did it take you to set that up?â€â€¨â€Quite a while,â€ Emburr replied. â€œIt was one of my graduation projects when I was studying with Twiggnth. Iâ€™ve used it a lot since then, so it only has enough juice left for a couple of hours, but we should be long gone by then.â€
â€œIlliganrus! Youâ€™re really amazed, arenâ€™t you? Disconfictiles were some of Twiggnthâ€™s favorite things, and he discribed[misspelling intended]them amazingly well. Iâ€™d be glad to teach you – but not for awhile. Weâ€™d better get going.â€
â€œDrink your Qwestrade, everyone!â€ Intinier said.
Elanor uncorked the flask and started drinking. It was spicy, sweet and refreshingly cool. As she continued to swallow it, though, it left a bitter aftertaste on her tongue.â€¨â€Easy, there,â€ Intinier said. â€œDonâ€™t drink it all at once. There are two servings in that bottle.â€â€¨â€Oh.â€ Elanor felt slightly foolish.â€¨â€If everyone is quite finishedâ€¦â€ called Emburr impatiently. He had already started walking.â€¨ I think this passage moves very quickly. I can’t think of anything immidiately wrong with it though. Maybe it’s just me. *shrug*
*******â€¨
The Etheterran sun rose in glory, casting pale violet light over the canopy of the Nozama Forest. The sunbeams filtered down through its high canopy of leaves, making a patchwork of violet and gold on the forest floor. The Nozama River flowed sedately along, unaffected by the morning excitement that gripped most of the forest creatures. The nocturnal ones were retiring to their dens, and the diurnal beasts were waking up and foraging. The forest echoed with gibberings and weird cries.â€¨A woonkledevver poked one of its heads around a trunk, its strong claws digging into the bark. It observed four strange figures trekking across the forest floor. Each one had an unusally powerful magical aura. The woonkledevver could see things like that with the large, faceted violet eye on the tip of its tail. It ignored the first three, whose auras were pretty standard. Granted, the black-haired one had an unusual color to his, and the furry oneâ€™s was the strongest of the three. But the girlâ€¦â€¨The woonkledevverâ€™s observations were cut short by the call of a rynthhawk above the canopy. It scuttled off in search of a whalope skull to hide in.â€¨ Love it! Each member of the group trudged along in silence, pondering and remembering.â€¨Lance thought about the power that heâ€™d first discovered when he was seven years old. Since that time, heâ€™d called it â€œinside Lance,â€ because he could only do it, somehow, when he concentrated on his center, harder and harder until it suddenly came to the surface. He had a strange way of convincing people, bringing them over to his side. And that was just one of its facets. Not even Nikolas had completely understood it.â€¨ Very straight forward. I suppose it’s OK. but what about going for a more….. gurgle….what’s the word……undercover approach? No. That’s not it. But you know what I mean. Right? Emburr was remembering his first meeting with Twiggnth. He had been exploring a crag of a glacier that he was not familiar with, although it had been strictly forbidden by his parents. He thought at the time that it had to do with the big clumsy Fenkins in ornate suits who tried to chase him away with sharp sticks and flashes of light. (He later learned that these had been Athranaâ€™s guards.) He had come up on this crag to hide from them, when suddenly a small hole had crumbled away from its side, and a manâ€™s face peered through. I knew there was something familiar about Elanor when I saw her in the Lilete Pelisarn, he thought. Her chin was exactly the same shape as Twiggnthâ€™s. Though, of course, most of his was concealed behind that long ivory beard.
Intinier was gazing around the forests that she hadnâ€™t seen in so long, thinking about when her brother, Fentinor, had told her that he had never tasted such good glimsheei in his life. That was the happiest she had ever felt before she met Woodle. Her parents had begun to worry about what she could do, for all her strange interests, and that she would have to leave Tsinglonk. They knew that she would die quickly as a slave. [If thatâ€™s too off-topic, cut the last part. I want to make sure that her being recognized as eligible to be a phagomage is in there. And Iâ€™m sorry, I only have ideas for what Elanor is thinking, and definitely not enough to write about it.]
She remembered her brother, and she tried to hold back tears when she remembered him disappearing into the dark black waters of the Itlintanpok Ocean. But then she thought of the first meal she invented, Teic (a best-selling good-tasting vitamin drink) and she smiled again. I like this memory. I think it really gets inside Itenier’s head.
Elanor wondered about the life ahead of her. If she ever managed to defeat the Usurper (she thought it unlikely), would she be allowed to return to Reality, or would everyone expect her to remain in Etheterre? In this bizarre parallel world, did they even have something equivalent to school? Where was she going to live?â€¨Every member of the expedition trudged along in silence, occasionally taking a swig of the qwestrade, remembering, pondering and wondering.
â€œHello, what have we here?â€ Emburr said suddenly. He had stopped at the base of a towering tree with thick, sprawling roots. A small gap in those roots opened up into a chamber inside the tree, perhaps scorched by a long- ago fire. The tree was so broad that, if it were cut down, two elephants could stand on the stump and still have room for a woodchuck, and so tall that none of the party could see the top.â€¨Intinier rummaged through her pockets, finally pulling out a battered map that was fraying around the creases. â€œHmmmâ€¦â€ she muttered. â€œThe degrees of precessitude match up, and the manuscript describes the entrance as being next to a tiny sapling. I think this is it.â€ Wouldn’t an entrance like that be more hidden?
â€œExcellent!â€ Emburr said, and slipped through the gap. Elanor went next, pausing for a second, then gathering her resolve and stepping in. Muffled exclamations could be heard as Lance tried to squeeze his gangly body into the chamber, but Elanor paid no attention to him. She was too busy taking in her surroundings.â€¨If the chamber had been scorched by fire, it had long since healed. Hmmmm. Is that accurate? What happens to a tree when it’s burned. Does it heal? I mean. I don’t know, but doesn’t the burned portion usually remain charred? I guess I could look it up…… The walls were reddish wood, twisted and gnarled with age. But the floor was stone. Its only adornment was a symbol that looked like an ornate K.â€¨â€Thatâ€™s it,â€ Intinier gasped. â€œThe seal of Lord Emeralek. He was the one who built the passage.â€

OK. How was that for kind of editing. Kind of. I was never very good at it……

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103

kiwimuncher (2 B-Day points) (50 Muszey points)

in October 29th, 2008 @ 20:51

OK. I looked at a few pictures and that tree thing might work. It would most likely look more charred though. And if that one tree is burned, then why aren’t the other trees around it burned?

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104

kiwimuncher (2 B-Day points) (50 Muszey points)

in November 26th, 2008 @ 13:16

Alas. Nevermind.

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105

POSOC

in May 18th, 2009 @ 20:38

Hi guys. If anyone still pays attention to this thread (doubtful… yeah, I’m guilty too…) we’re discussing the possibility of a complete rewrite on Part 4. Feel free to come over and contribute or refute.

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Piggy on Random Thread: Spring 2023 to ???Hello everyone! I've read all these comments the day (perhaps hour) they were posted, but never managed the gumption to reply to them, sadly ("sadly"…
gimanator on Random Thread: Spring 2023 to ???Salutations! There's a little bit of explanation in the HG2MB (in particular an explanation for the email), but I think the 'blog has shifted a bit in…
gimanator on The Hare & Hedgepig, v. VINever fear, there's always some unexpected comestible about! How about one of these green pastry things? I think they're avocado flavored, but you nev…
gimanator on Random Thread: Spring 2023 to ???My, what a lovely flurry of activity here! Although I'm a little slow to reply to it, as usual. Funny to see our project as a sort of subject of paleo…
Robert Coontz (Administrator) on Random Thread: Spring 2023 to ???Welcome back, Cat's Eye, and thank you for the fascinating update. (Fun factoid related to Life on the Mississippi: as Piggy noted, my great-great-gra…
Robert Coontz (Administrator) on Random Thread: Spring 2023 to ???Hm. Not exactly. Maybe I'd better let Piggy explain.
Robert Coontz (Administrator) on Random Thread: Spring 2023 to ???Sorry about that! We were besieged by spambots and had to do a lot of preliminary moderating before we could even see your posts. Welcome!
Cat's Eye on Random Thread: Spring 2023 to ???Hello, all! I've had a busy few years since I last dropped in - published a book, wrote a sequel, endured a few rounds of COVID, and got top surgery!…
Sinusoidal Polyglot on Welcome, Neophytes!Hi! I’m new to MB. Can someone explain how this works? It is chaotic compared to CB (Chatterbox) the place I come from originally (tragically it is sh…
Sinusoidal on Random Thread: Spring 2023 to ???Can someone create a guide on how MB works and how to use it and post and all that? What are the kinds of topics MB talks about?
Sinusoidal Polyglot on Random Thread: Spring 2023 to ???Hi! Sinusoidal here! This is my first post on MuseBlog. I come from ChatterBox (See my posts there). If I’m not supposed to give my email, why is it r…
You can call me "Fitzy" on Random Thread: Spring 2023 to ???I sent a post a few weeks back, but I don't think it was approved. I stumbled across this place a few weeks ago and did some brief digging into it. It…
Piggy on Random Thread: Spring 2023 to ???Hello friends! I've been trying to think of something meaningful to say for the last couple weeks, but nothing quoteworthy has come to mind. When peop…
You can call me "Fitzy" on The Hare & Hedgepig, v. VIAlas, I fear I am too late to assist with this food. Surely it must have spoiled by now? It's a shame. This is a lovely-looking spot, and quite cozy t…
You can call me "Fitzy" on Random Thread: Spring 2023 to ???I was never a user of this site. Never a user of any blogs or forums on the internet really. Never got the hang of the social internet, and ADD means…
ibcf on Random Thread: Spring 2023 to ???Same problem has kept me away like a pool of flesh eating bacteria, ha. Never mind what I've had to show for myself since; the ignominy of the nonsens…
ZNZ on Random Thread: Spring 2023 to ???I'm not sure exactly how I ended up back here, but I was so pleasantly surprised to see posts as recent as these last! It makes me happy to think of y…
Piggy on Random Thread: Spring 2023 to ???Well, today marks my 17th 'Blogiversary. Somehow that number, anything less than my current age, sounds too small, as though my self and my MuseBlog s…
Piggy on Random Thread: Spring 2023 to ???I ought to pick out some Twain to read myself. One of my half-treasured possessions is a dark green hardback set of his works published in the 1930s o…
gimanator on Random Thread: Spring 2023 to ???Now that I'm here, I also have a long overdue thanks for the recommendation of Life on the Mississippi: it was the perfect suggestion. It had been a l…
gimanator on Random Thread: Spring 2023 to ???Goodness, that's an anagram I haven't seen in a long while! I've been watching for your resurfacing, Piggy. I even (briefly) wondered if the site outa…
Piggy on Random Thread: Spring 2023 to ???I've realized that since my employer finally made me take a company laptop a few months ago, after a few years of using my personal computer to work f…
Piggy on The Hare & Hedgepig, v. VIIf anyone has an appetite, the wungs are getting impatient at how long it's taking me to eat the loaf of pumpkin bread they've baked to match (in shap…
gimanator on Random Thread: Spring 2023 to ???I'm back for the latest dispatch! I was mistaken about two things: I thought this post would be about two months earlier and I thought I would have fi…
Piggy on The Hare & Hedgepig, v. VIOh dear, they've done milkshakes now. Where did that mop go....

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the man for aeiou

the man for aeiou

Alice

the man for aeiou

Alice of the Blackberries

the man for aeiou

Prarilius Canix

the man for aeiou

Prarilius Canix

the man for aeiou

Prarilius Canix

Prarilius Canix

the man for aeiou

the man for aeiou

the man for aeiou

Prarilius Canix

Sobriquet

Prarilius Canix

Alice of the Blackberries

Prarilius Canix

Prarilius Canix

Alice of the Blackberries

Prarilius Canix

Alice of the Blackberries

Prarilius Canix

Alice of the Blackberries

Prarilius Canix

Prarilius Canix

Alice of the Blackberries

Alice of the Blackberries

Prarilius Canix

Alice of the Blackberries

Alice the Oracle

Prarilius Canix

the man for aeiou

Prarilius Canix

the man for aeiou

the man for aeiou

the man for aeiou

Alice

the man for aeiou

Alice

the man for aeiou

Volanti of Phanland, trying out a thoroughly odd name (THF)

Alice

TAM

the man for aeiou

Prarilius Canix

Prarilius Canix

Prarilius Canix

the man for aeiou

Alice

the man for aeiou

Volanti of Phanland, trying out a thoroughly odd name (THF)

Prarilius Canix

Alice

PrÃ¦riliuÂ§ CÃ¦nix

PrÃ¦riliuÂ§ CÃ¦nix

Alice

PrÃ¦riliuÂ§ CÃ¦nix

Alice

PrÃ¦riliuÂ§ CÃ¦nix

Alice

PrÃ¦riliuÂ§ CÃ¦nix

Prarilius Canix who cannot WAIT for NaNoWriMo to begin in 9 days

the man for aeiou

Prarilius Canix who cannot WAIT for NaNoWriMo to begin in 8 days

the man for aeiou

Prarilius Canix, taking a break from NaNoWriMo

Prarilius Canix, taking a break from NaNoWriMo

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