Wednesday, 24 April 2024
Life, the universe, pies, hot-pink bunnies, world domination, and everything
*Round-Robin ‘Riting, by special request of Elassë~Adæl. Not a continuation of version 2006.5 or any earlier version. Each version is its own distinct story (which may be continued in parts 2, 3, etc.).
Date: October 4, 2006
Categories: Fiction, poetry, and fanfiction
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.
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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 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.
-ten years later-
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 glanced down at the small square of paper – no, parchment – in her hand. Rose cafe 4 am DON’T BE LATE. She had been at the local bookstore purchasing a book when, along with the reciept, this message was given to her. She had no clue what it meant or whether it was a good idea but curiosity overcame her.
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She had rolled over and was about to fall back asleep when the alrm clock rang again. Dang, she thought, i pressed snooze instead of off.
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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.
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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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“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.
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“This is our turf,” Brogan snarled. “You never learn, do ya? I guess I’ll have to teach y- OOMPH!”
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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.
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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.
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(continued from 8)
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?” Nobody answered. “I’m serious! Tell me who you are!” 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 people 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 skool. As she huried along, she missed the piece of parchment that flew out of her pocket and danced in the autumn breeze.
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ignore mine. unless you happen to really, really like it.
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I don’t understand these stories…
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Elanor sprinted intot he auditorium and hastily assembled her trumpet. Surprisingly nobody noticed that she had arived 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 figeting and wondering when she could go look for it.
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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.
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In creative writing, however, she was destined to be disappointed. 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.
“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 and caculus,” said Mr. Blithe (a name that didn’t 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. Blythe did not seem pleased.
“You 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, ” 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 her arithmetic.
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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 lost piece of parchment!! Elanor quickly pulled the parchment away from it then tossed the mouse away from her. Unfortunatly it landed on Mr. Blithe’s head.
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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 – if she’d be different from 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…
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How does Elanor get from her calculus class to meeting Lance.
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( this is in the middle of 16 and 17)
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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, an glared at the class. “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!” Put it a girl.
“It doesen’t matter. She was bad. And now she will pay.” 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 suppsoed 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. “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, 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 somthing different. Somthing exciting. Somthing worthwile. 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 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.
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(Just as a note,” times falling the pools ice” =I’m calling the police. And I don’t mean to be offensive to any secretaries, cashiers and waitresses :mrgreen:)
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Still can’t understand the stories…
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Continuing off of seventeen:
“So… why are we meeting here?’ Elanor asked.
”Because I need you to help me- help us. You see –” Lance was cut short by a yell. “That’s her!”
“%&*@.” Sighing, he grabbed Elanor’s hand and ran. But he was slow, impeded by suprise and the weight of a fairly plump child. He had only made it to the next street when they caught him. he’d thought they were the regular police men, but it turned he was wrong. He swallowed uncomfortably. The king was taking an interest. Things had just gotten alot more complicated.
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I guess I’ll have to take the short cut he thought.
“What shortcut?” asked Elanor.
“Sorry, must have been thinking out loud…” 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 escalator going down.
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Uuuummmmm it said 4 AM not PM……
0.o The last few have confused the story quite a bit.
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Let’s make it Pm. We can’t start over now.
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Why not? Then I could understand what’s going on…
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25- yeah! i agree
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Pwease GAPA?
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Give up on an RRR after 22 posts? Surely you can find a way to sort things out.
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I have posted interesting beginnings on 3 of the RRR threads, and ALL OF THEM WERE DELETED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I don’t see why I even bother…
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Since I never have a say in these things, I have decided to quit trying to post in the RRR threads. Goodbye!
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*koffifkoffthekoffGAPAkoffletkoffmekoffhavekoffakoffsaykoffinkoffthesekoffthings,koffikoffwouldkoffcomekoffback*
What’s wrong with creativity?!? I’ve posted creative and interesting sections in these RRR threads, but the GAPA didn’t seem to like them, so they were all deleted. What’s the matter with the explosions? What’s the matter with news reporters?? They actually exist, you know! Don’t you people think those things are interesting beginnings? Huh?
I bet you guys $2 this is deleted…
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anyways, GOODBYE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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31-You owe everyone $2, which tallys up to appox. $864.
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Here’s your cyber money which doesn’t actually exist because I’ve never actually talked to any of you in person and because I only have $0.10 that I can spend, but I’m saving my money for a Standing Liberty Quarter that will cost me $3.00 plus an incredibly overpriced stamp ($0.39)…bleh…
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33: Lot’s of people have left the MuseBlog…I don’t have to pay everyone, just split $2 between all of the people on this thread…
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34: That had to have been the longest sentence I have ever created…
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And without your signature Kaboom.
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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 escalator 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 escalator stopped promptly. A door slid open, sending a blast of cold air and brilliant light into the alcove.
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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 clos- 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?” 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.
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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, 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 him, quickly. His panic wasn’t unfounded, either. Elanor was looking murderous. “Than what do you want?” 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 overtone… He looked serious. Handsome, almost.
Inside Lance, thought, well, Lance. Just in time. “Your father came from a different place. Very different from here. He met your mother by accident, but he couldn’t stay… he had to go. 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.
(description of locket, characer development is a good thing to put after this.)
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Sorry, Sir Ozlips. Let’s use yours.
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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:
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Elanor,
Remembering your past is the key unlocking your destiny. >
Oh, great thought Elanor. Really clears things up. 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.
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We could fuse mine and Pheobe’s somehow. I like the idea of a locket.
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This is much better than the other one. Slower paced, but builds up more.
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Sounds great, PC.
“My dad…?” 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 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 curiousity 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?” Elanor looked up, and found that Mr. Roglea was nodding. Nikolas Roglea, than. Nikolas pulled a marble sphere out of his pocket. It was in oddly shimmering shades of roselike 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 laquer. “3…2…1,” muttered Lance, and than the entire shabby alcove was engulfed in bright, warmly coloured 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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((Ignore me if this doesn’t fit. I’m coming in a bit late for an RRR. Usually I pounce upon the darlings in the first dozen posts.
And Elanor’s locket-thing reminds me of Ruby in RRR 2006.1 a bit. Not that this is a bad thing.))
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 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.
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(Note, Penty – I did kind of realise the whole Ruby RRR thing, but I didn’t want the locket to be so much as a plottish item in a magic so way as in a sentimental way.)
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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 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.”
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I left Etheterre undescribed on purpose. You can fill in the gaps, fellow Round Robin ‘Riters.
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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.
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“Welcome to Labarynth City,” Lance said. “The last stronghold against the Usurper.”
((Note- I misspelled Labyrinth on purpose.))
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Am I the only one to post here anymore?
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It’s pretty bad if even Penty has stopped posting on an RRR.
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54 (PC)- Pfft. Dude, I’m a lurker in a block. What more do you expect?
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Oh. Good to see you, Pentatonikk.
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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 merest instant, the words “Codex Aetherica” hung above the cover in letters of silver flame. Then it looked normal again.
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((I’m here! I read part of the story, and maybe I can understand it enough to Round Robin ‘Rite some of it!))
((Continued from 57 – ))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.”
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“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 milennia 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.
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Elanor told this story aloud. “But,” she concluded, “the book hit Brogan, not me…. 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–but it only works for you.”
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“But, if it only works for me, what’s the point?” Elanor began. “I mean, what do 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.
“But 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?!?!”
“Um, Elanor…let us explain.” said Mr. Roglea.
“People 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.”
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“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.”
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((Sir Ozlips, you make things very hard for other people. If you start a problem, you have to fix it. – Just joking. This is going to be fun to make up.))
“Well, the power is controlled by a certain force called [fill in the blank – I’m not good at making titles up, just names]. [blank] was being attacked by the Usurpers, the enemy when your father was killed. But [blank] survived, and became much stronger – because you were born.” explained [either Lance or 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?”
“No, it isn’t…you were born on Etheterre. That’s what made you so important.”
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Then my mother…? Elanor trailed her sentance, as though she couldn’t complete the thought.
“Yes.” Lance answered
“But if she lived here, why did she come to Earth? Why didn’t she every 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, just as your father had no choice but to stay in Etheterre.”
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“You see,” Lance said, “Imaganruis ((the name of the “special force”)) was the force that created Etheterre.”
“What does that have to do with my father?!” Elanor was literally screaming now.
“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.
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((65 – I like how you put it like Voldemort’s name – “Don’t say that name!”
I should probably wait for a few more posts before I say something else, shouldn’t I? Okies, I will.))
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((Just so you know- the full name is Zefethelyan.))
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“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 asdded to that book.”
“His what?” 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.
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“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 Realites 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.
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“The Usurper is not just a normal person, Elanor.” 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.” 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 sheild over them that pushes on the sheild over us. Now, their sheild 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 sheild, and only one person will ever be able to.”
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Oops, it should be shield, i think.
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“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 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.”
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They approached a resturaunt. 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 it’s back turned. It was orange and light seemed to radiate from it, it turned around. “Why hello there!” 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. It’s eyes where bright purple, and ears that looked like squiggles potruded from the sides of it’s 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 race lighted up. I must prepare a-” “Relax.” Lance said. “We’re just here for lunch.”
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((71 – Indeed.))
“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?”
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“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.”
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Mr. Roglea simply smiled. “Elanor, meet Intinier, best phagomage in Labarynth City.”
“Um… phagomage? What in the world is that?” 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.”
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((This RRR was rather unplanned. I’m glad that we are introducing some minor characters.))
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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 restaraunt. 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.”
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“What’s he saying?” Elanor wispered 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(it?).
“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.”
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“Woodle, take our guests to a table,” said Intinier. The Xixin complied, leading them through the restaraunt. 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.
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Elanor tried to detect something that they had done, but she couldn’t see anything.
“Come on, Elanor! Have a seat!” Lance said casually.
“Um…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?
“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.
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Intinier was intended to be a she. 
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82- As far as I can tell, Intinier is a she.
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82 – I don’t see any way she couldn’t be a she…
I still have to wait for other people to say something before I do. Hmph.
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AAAARRRRGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!! Someone post here, PLEASE!!!!!!!
I’m going over to the visit these threads thread to make it clear that people should post here.
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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.”
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!”
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Outside the restaraunt, 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.
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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 restaraunt.
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“No.” Said a small girl in the back. “I have no clue what y’all are talking about and would like to know.”
Lance slapped her. “IMBECILE! YOU MUST NOT EVER KNOW! MWA HA HA HA HA” *gasp*
And Lance fell over dead.
Elanor began to feel more nauseated. She grabbed Lance and kissed him.It was a magical life-giving kiss. He sprang back to life. He looked at her and screamed.
“Oh my gosh, girl! Did you just kiss me?” He said, rather high-pitched.
She looked back at him, puzzled.
“Yes, why?”
“I’m GAY! LIKE LANCE BASS! WHOM I LOVE!”
Everyone gasped.
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*pies SupremeMuser2000*
Is there some rule about completely inane continuations being zapped, GAPAs?
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89 – What on earth was that?
((Continuation from post 88)):
“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.
“Um…” 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 Pelisam with a blinding silver light.
((Someone finish that. I have confused myself a bit too much.))
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Excellent job of story rescuing, THF. So, Twiggnth Wing is the father of Atherton Wing, right?
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92 – Yes. Thank you. I’m very proud of that name.
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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.
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90, 91- I thought it was rather funny. *pies Sir Ozlips* *big bannana cream pie* *chocolate Cookie cake*
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Humor is okay, but keep to the story, please, SM2000.
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FINE! 
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97- The puppy face does not cut the mustard. There are threads for that kind of post. This is not one of them.
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Perhaps we could pause the story for a while and work out some organization for Etheterre. From what I’ve seen, the previous RRRs were planned out meticulously before anyone started writing. I’m not suggesting we do that, but it would be nice to have some order. For instance, there would have to be seven continents, to correspond with the gateways back in Reality. What does everyone say?
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99- I agree. I think that the continents should be in roughly the same places as they are in Reality. One should be called Lillixa, home of the Xixins and other Lillix-speaking creatures. Another, maybe the one that corresponds with N. America, should be mainly home to humans. If any disagree, just speak up. These are only suggestions.
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Ok, I think everyone should beg the GAPAs for a new RRR on the main page, because truthfully, I totally forgot about the RRR. I’ll try to help while I’m here, though.
Continent Suggestions-
Lillixia- xixins
Merin Prime? North America?
Just sort of spewing random ideas. Anyone else?
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I think that the geography is something that really needs to be worked out before we get much more into the story, but that’s it. I like finding things out about the story from other people in the middle of the story.
100 – Sounds good. North America should be Kolombet, I think. Columbus needs credit at some point. Antarctica should be something along the lines of Tsinglonk. It’s the hottest contintent, facing the violet Etherterre sun 357 days of the 366 days of the year. In Etherterre, instead of leap years, they go backwards, having 3 days less every four years. Is that the right math? – Of course, these are just suggestions.
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Suggestions:
N. America-Kolombet, mostly humans
S. America-Lillixa? if so, mostly Xixins
Antarctica- Tsinglonk, mostly Intinier’s race??
Africa-?????, coldest, covered in glaciers*, mostly race of pawed mage (Twiggnth’s apprentice)?
Asia-?????, mostly race of tentacled mage?
Europe-?????, gateway=Stonehenge?
Australia-?????, gateway=Uluru/Ayers Rock?
*Little tribute to Douglas Adams (think Slartibartifast)
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103 – Yes, I did see the DA in it. Fjords, though, not glaciers, so you’re not copying. 
Sounds good.
I was thinking that Intiniers liked the temperate biome and foresty places, not the extreme equator heat. The pawed mage race should definitely be in the cold places. Let me try to find some good species names:
Pawed = Pellire? Or Fenkin…hm.
Tentacled = Palpos or Midontis?
Intinier’s race = Capelents, or something like that.
Continent names:
Africa = Evencald or Pikilt?
Asia = Woalt?
Europe = Zundor?
Remember, these are just my thoughts, and if you don’t like them, be sure to make me feel stupid and show me how much better your ideas are. Well, if you can avoid making me feel stupid, that would be great, but that won’t be hard, because I don’t often feel stupid.
Some more animals:
Kikithns – Winged creatures. They don’t eat, and they never stop singing, but they have built-in GPS. (I was serious about that – they always know where they are)
Midepils – Slug-like creatures. Quite a nuisance. They’re like Sphinxes in that they love to ask riddles. The rest of the description is open to anyone else.
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104- The glowing skin suggested the hot climate for Intinier’s people. Other than that, I like Palpos, Fenkins, Capenlents, Evencald, Woalt and Zundor. Midepils could be Australian. I think that’s all the continents, so Kikithns could be a minor species.
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On the other hand, Midepils don’t seem like a major race. Maybe some sort of sentient, scaly kangaroos for Surriskar*?
*Australia
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Geography so far:
N. America=Kolombent. Mainly inhabited by human immigrants from Reality and their descendants (examples: Nikolas Roglea, Lance) Gateway: Rose Cafe.
S. America=Lillixa. Mainly inhabited by Xixins (example: Woodle). Gateway: On Easter Island?
Antarctica= Tsinglonk. Mainly inhabited by Capenlents (example: Intinier). Very hot. Gateway: South Pole?
Africa=Evencald. Mainly inhabited by Fenkins (example: pawed mage in Lilete Pelisarn). Very cold, covered in glaciers. Gateway:?
Asia=Woalt. Mainly inhabited by Palpos (example: tentacled mage in Lilete Pelisarn). Gateway:?
Australia=Surriskar. Mainly inhabited by Acropons (sentient, scaly kangaroos). Gateway: Uluru/Ayers Rock.
Europe=Zundor. Mainly inhabited by Kikithns?* Gateway: Stonehenge.
*I think Kithnkins should have to eat, but very rarely and with a specialized diet. They don’t die from old age, and their only sustenance is the nectar of the Kith flower, which blooms every thousand years. Or something like that.
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Midepils should also play a part. Description:
They look like slugs the size of a couch, but change color to match their surroundings. They live on every continent, but in small areas which every other species avoids, except the Wubbs (little blobs of jelly with black eyes) which have no brain at all, but simply bounce in a straight line and eat whatever they find if it’s smaller than them. The Midepils feed on the Wubbs, but get very tired of such a monotonous diet because a) Wubbs taste disgusting, and b)they can’t answer riddles. Midepils get very excited when some creature is foolhardy enough to enter their territory, and they will instantly converge upon this being and ask confusing riddles. If the creature fails to answer, it becomes lunch.
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105 – I was more thinking of the color and the snake-like hair of Intinier than her glowing skin. And wouldn’t glowing skin signify need of more light, and therefore collecting any light with skin? Maybe she lives in a rainforest, where the trees cover most of the light, as well as turning their hair green (because it’s what gets most of the light.) Their skin turns orange because like some trees’ leaves, they turn orange without enough sunlight. They have evolved that way. I may have mistaken a bit of the science of that, but oh well.
106 – I think we need lots of minor races, because we’re going to come across a lot, if I’m looking at the way this story is coming the right way. But you’re right. Midepils certainly shouldn’t be a major race. Maybe they could be a rare species that you don’t come across often?
What if Greenland is its own continent? That would add a twist, wouldn’t it?
107 – Tsinglonk’s gateway should be at the lowest point in Antarctica, I’m thinking. (Bentley Subglacial Trench.) Find a map of it if you don’t know where that is. The south pole seems just too, I don’t know, central.
Another thing we have to think about is transportation. It seems that mages and other animals travel all over Etherterre. How?
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Bentley Subglacial Trench sounds good. A rainforest would work for the Capenlents, because Tsinglonk is hot, but the gateway might be in a desert.
Transportation… hmmm… Maybe something reminiscent of an old steam train, but airborne? Or creatures that have the heads, tails and wings of birds, but legs and body of horses and webbed feet?
Or clouds that you can ride on? Or multilocation chambers that you step into in one place and emerge in a different place? Or any combination of those?
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I think that there should be an Usurper ruling each continent (except Kolombent, which is free and governed by the Regency of Labarynth City), and Zefethelyan should rule them all from his seaborne stronghold (Atlantis?). Each person is entitled to make up one Usurper until they are all taken, which will ensure that mostly old RRR diehards will get to make them up. The description of mine is below, but it will be null and void if people disagree.
Kaabne
The Usurper of Lillixa
An old, warlike Xixin with red fur, he is never seen without his ornamented helmet and tailspike. Not a very accomlished mage, but the magical shield of the Usurpers does extend to him. His fortress is high up in the Ukuland Mts.(corresponding to the Andes), but he is more often at the southern border of Kolombent, directing his vast hordes against the magical defenses of the Regency.
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110 – We can have lots of types of transportation, just like in Reality. We have cars, trains, bicycles, boats, airplanes, and all of that stuff. We should have a type of transportation for each species or something, but those types over time became international. Or something. And something equivelant to every type of transportation we have, or something. But those all sound like good ideas.
Dinkikiniscius (pronounced din-kick-in-eye-sis. Anyone who mispronounces his name will be severely tortured, and those who correctly pronounce it get kicked hard in their eye if in earshot of one of his guards/patrollers.)
The Usurper of Woalt
A nice-looking Fenkin, with good clothes (that reminds me; what are we going to do for clothing?) and good manners, a nice gentlemanly voice, and average height. But there is one thing odd about him: his midnight-blue eyes. They have many qualities, one being vision three times as good as a Xixin’s. (I have decided that Xixins have amazing eyesight.) Another of their qualities is hypnotism. If you look straight into the eyes of Dinkikiniscius, you will become one of his guards, but not until you get taught by force what you are to do. He has fantastic fighting skills, which are exercised quite often on guards and prisoners, and he has a softness for baby Capenlents.
He is also strange because he is much shorter than all other Fenkins, and also because he is a Fenkin at all. Woalt has a climate that would make it very hard for a normal Fenkin to live. But he manages just fine, and he very much enjoys attacking random Palpos that seem the slightest bit suspicious. Actually, the ones that don’t look supicious are fine to attack, too.
If anyone wants to add to or take away from any of that, feel free to.
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Oh yeah, and he is Zefethelyan’s most accomplished mage, although he is one of the youngest recruited to the Usurpers. It’s a pity he had to move to the dark side. He was Intignet’s (Twiggnth’s uncle’s sister-in-law) best friend.
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Cool Usurper, THF!!!
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114 – Thanks. I like yours, too, especially how although he isn’t a very good mage, he still manages to have power.
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I will advertise this thread on the Random Thread and the Visit These Threads thread.
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By the time this comment has moderated, my advertisement will be on the random thread, and people will come pouring in.
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I’m pouring in! Yay!
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So, what is this place about? Hmmmmmmmmmm? I trust you Parilius Canix I know you from the Ships Logs!
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119- We are writing a story in which one person posts one part, another person posts the next part, and so on. Right now, however, we are working on the geography, history, that sort of thing.
The story chronicles the adventures of Elanor Wing, an ordinary (at least as ordinary as you can be if you’ve skipped several grades and are a whiz at fencing) ten-year-old girl who finds out that she is the heir to Etheterre, a world where fantasy becomes reality and possibilities are facts. She is brought there by the magician Nikolas Roglea and his apprentice Lance, who explain that Elanor’s father was the former king of Etheterre. He was killed by a certain faction of Etheterrans called the Usurpers, who now rule almost all of Etheterre. At the moment, we are making up different usurpers for different continents. Look at the last twenty posts for details of continents and species. I hope my recap helped.
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107- easter island isn’t in south america. I’d say in the andes somewhere where the Incans lived.
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121- It’s off the coast, but I think you’re right that it should be more central. I’ll look up some famous Incan monuments.
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OK, how about somewhere in Machu Picchu??
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123 – Machu Picchu sounds good. But not too central, mind you. And not too famous. I think Stonehenge should be the only really famous Reality link.
What if there are gateways all over, but mostly personal ones? Like if you have a car at home in Reality, you’ll have a Gateway near your house, or a neighborhood Gateway. There are only two or three in every continent except Kolombent, because the Usurpers believe in everyone listening to them, and all of that. In Woalt, the only Gateway appears to be easy to access, but really, it is highly protected, and the native Palpos and Kopites (some sort of sticky paper-thin organisms, who only move when they need something, and eat but two things; deep fried, dried, and expired tigos ((the equivelant to a mango – only bright blue, and tasting like the smell of sharpies when ripe)) and pudocus, which are about 50 foot long, hot pink, smell like erasers, and taste like canned pumpkin – they last the lucky Kopites that can find one for a lifetime) learn to avoid them. If anyone tries to enter, they either get attacked by Dinkikiniscius’ best guards or get burnt to pieces by a blinding purple and red light. The one disadvantage that Dinkikiniscius has is that he is colorblind, which causes extreme difficulty in seeing the radiant light of Capenlents that he loves, is quite useful, because everyone has to wear sunglasses because of the clashing existence of purple and red stripes whose light carries for miles.
Most Palpos have never left Woalt, and almost none have ever been to Reality, because of the strict protection of the Gateway. The one in the Lilete’ Pelisarn (whose name, I have decided, is Pelizi Triggifathm, and he is the decendant of the amazing hypnotist Pelizi Quilliopathogistiumther – Sorry for the long names) was there by luck. His grandparents took a great risk one year and swam their way through the Snigger-(and Knid)infested waters of the Itlintanpok (Atlantic – the Pacific is the Specific or the Speheivic) Ocean to Kolombent, where all Pelizis have lived since. Other Palpo families have lived in other continents for centuries, but not many, and few survived, not realizing the cruelty of other Usurpers.
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THF- Don’t plan TOO far ahead, there. We want some spontaneity.
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125 – Sorry. I just suddenly got all of these great ideas. I will try not to do it again. *swears that she will try not to*
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Also, if Gateways are all over, it would be easy to get between Reality and Etheterre. It should be rather hard to do.
One more idea: For fear of the heir returning and using the Codex Aetherica on them, the Usurpers have outlawed books. The only places they exist anymore are in Labarynth City and a few secret libraries around the Etheterran globe.
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126- Kromatikk… Are you related to Pentatonikk?
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Okay, I’m realllllllly confused. We should get back to the main story and weave these details in later.
I believe we left off with an epic battle that should really be conducted by one of Z’s ( I am not spelling out all these long names) henchman, not the supreme ruler himself, if you were to ask my opinion. I think that Z should underestimate Elanor’s power in the first battle. After all, she is only ten. We should probably slow down a bit, too, like we did at the begining. Also, the gateways should be more inconspicuos, like THF suggested, maybe stonehenge should be a really famous one, but the rest should appear normal, like the rose cafe. Also, we need to put the story together. Mind you, I might make minor changes. Tell me if you dissagree with anything. Here goes:
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.
“I 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.
-Ten years later-
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 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.
“ 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.
“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?†Nobody answered. “I’m serious! Tell me who you are!†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.
In creative writing, however, she was destined to be disappointed. 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.
“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 and calculus,” said Mr. Blithe (a name that didn’t 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. Blythe did not seem pleased.
“You 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, “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 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 school’s 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. 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. “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!â€
“It doesn’t matter. She was bad. And now she will pay.†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. “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, 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:
“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.
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 – if she’d be different from 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…
“So… why are we meeting here?’ Elanor asked.
‘‘Because I need you to help me- help us. You see –” Lance was cut short by a yell. “That’s her!”
“ %&*@.†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. He’d thought they were the regular police men, 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 loud…” 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.
“What are you doing here?” he said as he swung around. “We’re clos- 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?†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, 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 him, quickly. His panic wasn’t unfounded, either. Elanor was looking murderous. “Than what do you want?†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 overtone… He looked serious. Handsome, almost.
Inside Lance, thought, well, Lance. Just in time. “Your father came from a different place. Very different from here. He met your mother by accident, but he couldn’t stay… he had to go. 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.
“Oh, great†thought Elanor. Really clears things up. 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 dad…?” 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 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?†Elanor looked up, and found that Mr. Roglea was nodding. Nikolas Roglea, than. 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 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.
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 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.
“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 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 merest 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 me…. 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–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.
“But 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?!?!”
“ Um, Elanor…let us explain.” said Mr. Roglea.
“People 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.
“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 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.†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?”
“ 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
“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, just as your father had no choice but to stay in Etheterre.”
“You see,” Lance said, “Imaganruis was the force that created Etheterre.”
“ What does that have to do with my father?!†Elanor was literally screaming now.
“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 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?”
“ One of the many terms that the Realites 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. “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.†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 pushes 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?
“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 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.”
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!†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?†She looked up at lance. “Yes.†He said softly. “My goodness!†Her race 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 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? What in the world is that?” 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.
“Um…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?
“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.”
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.
“Um…” 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.
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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 why…” 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.
((Note: Elanor and at least one of her companions should survive, but Labarynth City should be in ruins.))
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Elanor and Lance should definitly survive. Others should survive with injuries, like intiner or woodle or something.
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 thinks that survived were in that resturant, and none of them were books.” She recognized this voice. Suddenly it dawned on her that it was Intiner 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 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 resturant. He appeared to be unconscious, but breathing.”
*idea for later* her backpack survives and the codex manifests it self in a book she was writing or somthing.
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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.”
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((128 – Alas, no, I am but a small person trying to imitate her wonderful name. But it is a cool name, isn’t it?
130, 131, 132 – Whoa. Fast moving. But I like it. Keep it up!
129 – I don’t think you should change anything. I think that if someone says something, you can’t change it. But I guess it’s okay. Thanks for putting it all there like that.))
“Oh, my. Oh, no! I want to get out of here!!!!! What…how…but…” Elanor gasped. “It’s gone. But we’ll just hop on over to South America!”
“Er…South America? You’ve been spending way too much time in Reality, haven’t you?” said Emburr. “Where exactly is South America?”
“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 [name of usurper of Evencald here – please make him/her up soon!] would let anyone leave of free will.”
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“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… 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.
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133- Just so you know, I didn’t really change anything but spelling errors. The only thing I did change was “escalator” to “elevator” because an elevator made more sense.
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Usurper of Evencald- Athrana, a Fenkin
Athrana is not the most powerful mage among the Usurpers, nor the strongest in battle- she has a rather slight build, even for a Fenkin, and her magic is only middling- but she has an aptitude for tactics that rivals Zefethelyan himself. She is a genius at palkaala, a strategy game popular in Evencald, and her grasp of magical theory allows her to invent new spells in hours that would take weeks normally. She stripped Twiggnth Wing of his powers shorly after the death of Atherton, and kept him captive for the rest of his life. He could still teach, however, and began doing just that when Emburr du Kendomalin poked his head into Twiggnth’s cell window one day. This knowledge helped Emburr to escape Evencald, years later, after his tutor’s death.
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“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.
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This thread is dying, and I can’t think of another continuation! Woe is me!
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((127 – Yeah, I was thinking that mostly for Kolombent. It seems that that won’t work anymore, though.
138 – Okay, I’m here, I was just gone for a little while because I was in the hospital trying to get my headache fixed so that I can read blog posts…
134 – There’s only one problem – when they get to Lillixa, what will they find? Who guards the few gateways? I guess we’ll find out when we get there.
135 – I noticed a few more, though….. Oh well. It’s fine. I was noticing that elevator certainly made more sense as well.))
“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 suggesting…”
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…th…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 [thoughts? feelings? what do you call that?] with a start.
“Well, now, are you done yet? That was quite a show, I must admit.”
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“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.
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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.
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((Note: If she has a book in her backpack, there would be no point in going to Reality to get one. Consider this before any further plot developments.))
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((142 – Why do they need to go to Reality anyway? Aren’t they fine right now? Just so you know, the only reason I said for her to do that with South America was to get some more information into the story. I just went along with what was happening. But you’re right, if she has a book in her backpack, (such as one similar to the math textbook it hid in before, possibly) There’s absolutely no need for them to go to Reality. I thought that everyone was frantic because long-term, they needed to be connected to Reality. In fact, a wonderful idea just struck me. What if Elanor isn’t the only person on Real Earth that has an unknown connection to Etherterre, or something? Some random kangaroo, that is a descendant of an Acropon or something? Or a squirrel to a Fenkin? Or another person that they need to find? That would add quite a twist. We’ve been adding lots of twists, though, or at least I have, so maybe I should lay back on the twists. Anyway, just showing my opinion. And if anyone wants to add onto my last comment, feel free to!))
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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.
((You’re right, Kromatikk, this story needs some more humor. Emburr could provide some comic relief.))
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I know it seems like the Rose Cafe would stick out among all the famous potential gateways I mentioned, but I was thinking of places that were sort of sacred to a native culture of that continent. The Native Americans didn’t really build any famous monuments, but they had plenty of sacred places. I was thinking that Kolombent’s gateway was inconspicuous in Reality until some of the Regency’s agents built the Rose Cafe so that they could keep an eye on both sides of the gateway after Zefethelyan took over.
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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??”
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“Your right.” Lance said bluntly. “We need help.”
“And I know just where to find it” Interner said slyly, grinning.
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“Where?” Emburr and Elanor said, simultaneously.
Intiner 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”.
“There,” she said. “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.”
((Let’s have this passage be where they meet the Midepils.))
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((144 – Genius idea. What color is your hair? (sorry, inside joke. I’m a dumb blond. Get it? … maybe not…. oh well.
Julieb, what’s your Usurper? You have to make one up! Actually, you don’t but please do…. ))
* * * (we need to put page breaks or something in this, and this seemed like a good place for one.)
“All right.” Intinier began, suddenly very serious. “When Woodle lived in Lillixa, he had a group of friends. It was, well, it was a book group.”
Elanor and even Emburr sniggered. ((If that’s not the right word, or something , feel free to change it when it’s recopied or something.)) “I didn’t know Xixins liked to read.” Emburr commented politely, suddenly losing his laughter.
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((148 – Well, I suppose there could be some way to connect our story things…. If the book group was part of the Residance, and they were the knowledge section. Or something. Your ideas were certainly better than mine, although I was hoping it to lead about the same way as yours.))
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This RRR promises to be a long one. Goody.
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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.
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((151 – It certainly does. We’re just getting started, and it’s long. Let me put it on Microsoft Word, and I’ll be the keeper or something. That way Word will fix most of any grammar/spelling mistakes, too. I’ll just tell it to ignore certain obviously unknown words.
I just put it in Word, and it’s at least 8066 words! Wow. This certainly will be long! I wish you could do groupe things on NaNo… :D))
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153- Cooooool. Yeah, you would be a good keeper. “Keeper of the RRR…” That has a nice ring to it.
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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?”
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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.”
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I was thinking of begging the GAPAs to continue this thread, but I realized it’s fine as it is. This way, only people who are really interested in it will visit it, and there will be less conflicting continuations and ridiculous posts.
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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.
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157 – That’s a nice way to think of it. No offense, SM2K, but that was quite a post you put up there. I think that’s one of the ridiculous posts PC might be talking about…
It was, well, 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.
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((The Keeper has come across a problem.
I need a way to connect the book group to the Residency. If someone could sew that together for me, that would be great. Otherwise, I’ll just do it myself. How about, I’ll do it now, and then people can change it until they like it, and I’ll put it in once everyone is okay with it. Here it is:))
“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.
“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.”
((Okay, I know it’s not perfect, but that’s what you guys are for.))
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Okay, I that’s what I’m putting in my Word document, just so that I can paste everything there. But I’m going to leave a space in between, so that I can find it again when we change things.
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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 get you, that’s what! Open it up, now, this is getting silly.”
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((Sorry. I said “Twiggnth can get you,” but I meant “Twiggnth can teach you.” That’s what I’ll put on my copy.))
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“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.”
“Okay… are you sure about this?”
The little creature spoke up in his high little voice, “Why would he be? He made me. He’s probably trying to trick you. Besides, you have the Wing instinct. If anyone should be suspicious, it’s you.”
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Elanor looked at the box dubiously. “What’s inside?”
“How should I know?” replied Emburr.
“Wha… wha… 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?”
“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.”
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Hmm. If you don’t like mine, scratch it.
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166 – No, it’s great. I’ll have to think about a continuation for a bit of a while, though, because this has turned to be a key point, and I don’t want to mess it up. If you want to extend it instead of me if I take a while, go ahead.
Also, do you want to fix anything in my binding of our two Resistance posts? I put it in my document thing, and right now it’s 8900-something words.
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((167- The Resistance posts look great.))
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.”
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((168 – Excellent story extending, or whatever that’s called. Much better than my ideas so far.))
“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 ((What’s that word for not-excited, not-something like that? I just had it, but I forgot it.))-looking teenager. ((Is he a teenager? I seem to have forgotten…)) “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, Intinier…” interrupted the wide-eyed Fenkin.
“What? We don’t have a long time ahead of us?” Intinier asked, purely inquisitive.
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Lance is about twenty.
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“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.”
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“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.
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“The life force of Twiggnth Wing,” Lance repeated.
“Oh my gosh, if we can get that into the Codex…” 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.
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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 seems… different.”
“Oh, goodness, she’s getting a phagomessage.” Intinier gasped.
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“What did the first bite taste like?” Intinier demanded. “As specific as you can.”
“Um, it was a bit like salsa…”
“That’s the Regency. Go on.”
“…and a bit like pickle relish…”
“So it’s not good news. Uh, oh.”
“…with a citrus aftertaste.”
“Hmm. That’s Olviek’s signature. Figures- he’s the only phagomage in the Regency.”
“Um… 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.
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((I just put all of this into my Word document, and here’s the update:))
“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.”
“Okay… “ Elanor looked at the box dubiously. “What’s inside?”
“How should I know?” replied Emburr.
“Wha… wha… 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.
((That’s the connection between my thing and PC’s. Is there anyone else posting here anyway?
And here’s the word count:
10078 words! W00t!
Here’s what I have to say next:))
“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 phagomessages…”
“It means,” Intinier said, “That Elanor will soon become an OverBoard unless we can stop them.”
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((Aw, come on, about 24 hours and nothing? I guess I’ll have to take matters into my own hands:))
“Sweet Imaganrius.” Lance whispered.
“Lance! You never say that! Well, I suppose it’s all right…” 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 OverBoard…. how will we survive with an OverBoard along for the ride?” Emburr exclaimed. “Oh, um, er, oh…. Oh! Hey, Intinier! Care to, er, explain?”
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“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 gone…”
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.
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“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.
*For the Kikithns.
**For the Xixins. Don’t put these footnotes into the Keeper’s Edition, please, THF.
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((179 – Of course not. Good ideas.
The word count is now 10952, or something along those lines. Page count is 21, although that doesn’t matter at all.))
That reminded her – what had happened to her necklace and the picture inside? She looked on her neck. No, it certainly wasn’t there. Then where was it? She had to find out. She ripped off the covers, (or cover) hard as it was to leave the comfortable bed, and ran to Lance’s bed.
“Lance! Lance! Where’s the locket? I can’t find it anywhere!”
“Wha…. Elanor! What is it? I’m trying to sleep!”
“The locket! I don’t know where it is!” she yelled frantically.
“What locket….” Lance whipered, hair more tousled than ever.
I’m going to my neighbor’s party now… I’ll continue later.
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THF- I think you should cut back on the plot twists. No offense, but we need to slow this story down a bit.
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((181 – Oh my gosh – I’m so sorry. I get these ideas that you are very aware of and I just have to say them. But I’ll just cut that from the KC (Keeper’s Copy) and write something else. I’ll really try to stop. Until I think it’s all right, of course. And I really can’t say how sorry I am. I didn’t even realize that I was twisting the plot so much. Thanks for showing me, and I’m so sorry. I really need a thesaurus. Oh wait, I have a thesaurus. But I didn’t use it. Snap.
Here’s my replacement – but beware, I’m best at plot twists:))
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. ((That wasn’t a plot twist, was it? Just a simple dream! I’m leaving it here, just in case I turn the dream into some crazy quest or something. I don’t trust myself.))
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Or was it more of a memory than a dream? She was smaller than she had been, nestled in the warm crook of someone’s arm. She could see two faces above her. One she recognized. It was her mother, but younger, and without the careworn lines that crisscrossed her forehead. The other was vaguely 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’s us!” 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.
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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…
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.
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Oops. I just realized that it says “You were born shortly after she crossed over.” In that case, Elanor could never have met her father. Feel free to scratch my latest addition.
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Or could we just clip out the thing about Elanor being born in Reality? It says later on that she was in Etheterre when Atherton was killed.
Meh… I hate conflicting plot developments, but there hasn’t been much character development, and this dream was an attempt to do something like that.
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((185 – Yeah. I was about to tell you that, but you got there first, I see. I like it, though…. ’tis a pity. Fortunately, you gave me an idea, and I can post an extension: Oh wait! It doesn’t have to be a memory! She could be an angel or something! But I’m going to tweak it to make it work just a bit better:))
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 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…
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.
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187- PERFECT.
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186 – Oh, yeah, I understand that…. if you think the change is okay, that’ll be great. We definitely need character development.
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((I think the change is great.))
“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.”
((I just realized that the events of this story have happened in about a 22-hour period, given that the note says 4 PM, so Elanor would have woken up at about 7:30. Fast moving. Well, it shows signs of being a long, juicy read.))
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Whoa. The last 42 posts have either been THF or me.
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((188 – Thank you. I have to say, I’m proud of remembering that it was just a dream. *bows graciously*
190 – Wow. Was it really just that much time? Well, look at the first RRR. The whole reference text is only about a day and a half. And that’s 20,000 words.
I’m not going to write anything today, because I’m uninspired, and I have nothing to write. Sorry, but I have nothing to say…))
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We’re pretty close to 200 posts. Wow.
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This RRR shows great promise, but hardly anyone comes to it. Should I beg the GAPAs for a sequel?
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194 – Sure. But there’s only a couple of problems with that…. and that’s that then there will be the hugest rush of people, and it won’t actually get going again for a while. Hmm… I asked Ebeth if she would come to this one….. she said next week possibly. I know for a fact that PPanda won’t do it… she did some of them before, but she doesn’t want to anymore, or something. I’ll send the GAPAs the story so far…. maybe they can make a thread with the story and a link to this thread, to take off a few of the people who want to start a new story. And people who want to get the Furst Wun, not caring what it’s about. I think that’s the best idea for now…. although in about 100 posts, we’ll start over anyway…. what do you think? I won’t bother saying who I’m talking to, even though I said what post it was, because we’re the only people here anyway.
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Your idea sounds good. I won’t bother saying who I’m talking to, either. That’s the nice thing about a thread that only two people visit regularly.
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“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 so… interested… all of a sudden.”
He’s right, she thought. I’ve really been acting cynical.
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.”
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“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.
I have to do something else now, sorry. 
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“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. 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?”
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Oh boy. 200th post. 100 till we reach part 2!
*is nonchalant and confident that no PoPoPo ever visit this thread*
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“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.
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200 – I’m a PoPoPo…. but that wasn’t exactly pointless. Only halfway. But that’s your warning…. I’m not worrying about it because we deserve some pointless celebration, though.
I just realized that I’ve been spelling Etheterre wrong.
“Of course!” Lance said. “That is, if there is any food to eat…”
Oh, man, I’m so sorry, I have to go do a bunch of other things…. I’m really sorry. I’ll try to say more next time.
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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.”
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Sorry I haven’t written in a while. I’ve been reading, but couldn’t think of anything to add.
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.
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Thanks, Julieb. It seems like THF and I have been the only ones ‘Riting recently.
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Oh, by the way, Julieb, now that you’re back, you could make up an Usurper. The untaken continents are Zundor (Europe), Surriskar (Australia), and Tsinglonk (Antarctica).
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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.
“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?” the phagomage replied, opening the sack and revealing a veritable cornucopia of bizarre fruit.
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“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.”
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((Hey guys: I’m really behind on Keeping because my mom took my Word out of my computer for a bit. I hope I’ll be able to catch up over break…
Man! This is like writer’s block! I can’t think of a thing to say! I’ve never really experienced this before…. at least people can get out of it for me… mwahaha.
PC, you really love to come up with exotic foods and such. Bleakfen is the coolest stuff.))
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209- Yeah, I do. Thanks.
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“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.
“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.
“The Usurper doesn’t mess about,” he said. “He’s already chosen a subordinate to rule Kolombent.”
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.
A silver mask covering the figure’s face.
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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Tsinglock sounds the most interesting to me. Here’s my description, we can weave it in later:
Tsinglock, a large continent corresponding to antarctica on earth, differs from the other continents in that it’s climate does not vary greatly from it’s twin on earth. It is a freezing cold wasteland, but is far from being unpopulated. Native creatures are known to live under the ice, coming up only for necessary food. No one knows much about these creatures, or whether they are even sentient beings. The other inhabitants are Capenlents, intiner’s people, who struggle to survive in the cold climate. They were brought over as slaves from a small island off the coast of Surriskar. The usurper assigned a ruler, a human, in fact, the only human ruler of a continent. The man, Hiskar, had the misfortune of having his joke about the Usurper reported to the head honcho himself. While able to retain his power, he the Usurper took particular pleasure in assigning him to rule over Tsinglock. With few provisions and frozen supplies, little progress has been made. Hiskar lives in the small ice fortress with Capenlent slaves. Intiner used to “work” here before she escaped, and her family is still in the stronghold. Hiskar is obviously not pleased with his position and is often seen wearing a scowl and ordering for more blankets, though he dare not say any word of complaint lest it is leaked to the Usurper.
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Tsinglonk was originally a sort of hot place, mostly rainforest, but the rest of it sounds good. Should we go with Julieb’s description or the other one?
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212 – Um… we already decided that Tsinglonk was hot…. Etherterre isn’t reolving as much, and Tsinglonk is sort of like at the equator. It’s almost always facing straight at the sun. Wonderful Usurper, though. We’ll have to tweak it so that it’s hot…. How about this (you might hate it, in which case you can make your own. Everything I change is in italics):
Tsinglock, a semi-((It’s the 3rd smallest on Earth)) large continent corresponding to Antarctica on Earth, is similar to most of the other continents in that its climate varies greatly from it’s twin on earth. It is a freezing cold burning hot wasteland, but is far from being unpopulated. Native creatures are known to live under the ice sand, coming up only for necessary food. No one knows much about these creatures, or whether they are even sentient beings. The other inhabitants are Capenlents, Intiner’s people, who struggle to survive in the cold hot climate – they originated in a rainforest ((A section of Surriskar?)). They were brought over as slaves from a small island off the coast of Surriskar. The Usurper assigned a ruler, a human, in fact, the only human ruler of a continent. The man, Hiskar, had the misfortune of having his joke about the Usurper reported to the head honcho himself. While able to retain his power, he the Usurper took particular pleasure in assigning him to rule over Tsinglock. With few provisions and frozenmelted supplies, little progress has been made. Hiskar lives in the small icesand ((sandstone?)) fortress with Capenlent slaves. Intiner used to “work” here before she escaped, and her family is still in the stronghold. Hiskar is obviously not pleased with his position and is often seen wearing a scowl and ordering for more blanketsCapenlents to fan him ((?)), though he dare not say any word of complaint lest it is leaked to the Usurper.
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Sorry, must have missed that. Your revisions sound great.
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215 – It seems to be my specialty. I really want to be an editor “when I grow up.” What’s especially good about it is that the good writing is done for me.
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The only suggestion I have to make about the revision would be that Capenlents are used to a hot climate, so it would be the dryness that makes survival a struggle for them. Also, what are the native creatures of Tsinglonk? This is only an idea, but how about some sort of giant lobster/insect thingies?
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217 – That sounds fantastic. Do what you have to do to my thing. It was just a short fast revision.
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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 TSOTNE
Telesphere of the New Order
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Actually, it should be TSOTNO. And something we have to resolve is Elanor’s birthplace. I think it’s Reality, but there is at least one place where that is contradicted. THF, would you fix that in the Keeper’s Edition?
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“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.”
“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.”
“All right,” the Fenkin said. “Let’s get moving, then. It’s almost dawn.”
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There’s only like three people on this thread.. A Part Two is greatly desired. hinthintwinkwinksaynomore!!
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((220 – Oh dear. I suppose so…. but doesn’t the first mention made of her birth say that she was born in Etheterre, and then immediately taken to Reality?
222 – I don’t think we mind. Although, we’re nearing 300, and then we’ll have to get a new thread. But I kind of like just a small number of people, we know each other so well, and all that. And I can’t say that I’ve seen you around lately… or maybe ever…. but please feel free to join us in ‘riting!
Oh, goodness, do I have a lot of Keeping up to do…. there has to be about double all of the story that I haven’t Kept….
12143 words! We’re rolling! W00t!))
*** ((we really need breaks. This seems like a good place for one. But please, if you think you can fit a break somewhere, put a few stars or asterisks or something to mark one.))
The odd group traveled down the ladder. Even Elanor decided that the time to practice flight was not now.
“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.
“Um…. I thought it wasn’t a good idea… should I?”
“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?”
“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.
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Oh dear. I just reread that, and it’s very poorly written. If someone wants to write something else, feel free. Because that is just a terrible piece of writing right there.
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((224- I think it’s fine.
223-It would work well if she was born in Etheterre and then taken immediately to Reality.))
“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.”
“Well, some of us happen to be, so could you stop bragging?”
Emburr looked down, abashed. “Sorry.”
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224- Don’t worry, its fine. Don’t be so hard on yourself.
225- I agree with the whole born in Etheterre then taken to reality, it would make the story flow a little smoother.
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, stubling to keep her balance.
“Come on!” Shouted Lance. Elanor could see her comrades were already 20 yards ahead, even though the underbrush was slowing them down.
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Oops, typo. Replace “stubling” with “stumbling” in the keepers edition, please.
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Elanor rushed after them. “What’s the hurry?” she called.
“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.
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 the Xemoci War.”
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Oops. In the Keeper’s Edition, put “of” between “memories” and “the.”
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Intinier looked back, shading her eyes against the sun’s glare. “That acrotrain is rather conspicuous,” she said.
Emburr smiled. “It won’t be in-” he consulted a small glass hexagon tied to his wrist- “seven seconds.”
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((I just realized that we have a problem. Most of the characters have well-defined personalities. Intinier is the calm, easygoing, enthusiastic one who nevertheless is pretty sharp. Emburr is the good-natured, humorous one who nevertheless (this is the last time I use “nevertheless,” I promise!!) has been deeply affected by his time in the war and the death of his mentor. Elanor is just an average girl who is beginning to accept her destiny. But Lance is faceless. We need to give him some distinct characteristics.
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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.
I had more ideas, but now I forget them because I just came back from dinner. 
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“Whoa.” Lance whistled. “How long did it take you to set that up?”
“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.”
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We need more people here. I can’t think of a good continuation.
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((234 – Yeah, we kind of do… I’m sending the copy so far to the GAPAs as soon as I post this. But I’d be happy to continue for us.
Lance: I think SM2K made him gay… j/k. Lance can do quite an interesting thing, called “Inside Lance.” Just for some ideas, that might help us, maybe like characters who can turn invisible are often shy. I won’t just give him characteristics right off the bat, but I’ll try to put some in this thing that I’m about to write and just to keep in mind.))
“That’s amazing! Can you teach me? I’ve always wanted to do a disconfictile. Nikolas told me all about them, but he never knew how to do it. Please, teach me!”
“Illiganrus! You’re really amazed, aren’t you? Disconfictiles were some of Twiggnth’s favorite things, and he discribed [misspelling intended – discribing is the technique used for teaching magic. It is very difficult, for you must do the magic, but you must communicate clear nonverbal messages to the apprentice. It’s complicated…] 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. [I was thinking that qwestrade will be something that doesn’t taste bad… but like pineapple – too much, and it will start to taste bad. I’ll let PC come up with the specific taste.]
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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.
“Easy, there,” Intinier said. “Don’t drink it all at once. There are two servings in that bottle.”
“Oh.” Elanor felt slightly foolish.
“If everyone is quite finished…” called Emburr impatiently. He had already started walking.
*******
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.
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 girl…
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.
Each member of the group trudged along in silence, pondering and remembering.
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.
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.
((What Elanor and Intinier are thinking about is up to you, fellow ‘Riters.))
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I just realized something. This story already qualifies for NaNo, but we’re just getting started. I mean, the trip to the gateway through the passage (where they may meet some Midepils, thus lengthening the story) will take a while, and that’s just to get into Reality to get the Codex. Once they have the Codex back, with Twiggnth’s life force inside it, the story will really get started. This will be an epic.
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237 – but it’s a group piece! only one-author pieces are acceptable for NaNo. and they have to be written entirely in the month of November.
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238- Yeah, that’s true, unfortunately. What I meant was that the word count was high enough. But I’m not sure if that’s right, either…
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((239 – It’s not. We’re only at about 13,000. But you’re right about length. We should make it series – The ending of the first one should be when they get to Reality, and then they do something else exciting, and then the book ends, and then Elanor grows up and becomes an evil leader, so her friends have to fix her. Or something.
I just got a great idea. What if Elanor can shape-shift, and she learns that when she meets a shape-shifter in the next book or something? I just got that idea because my friend’s cat’s name is Eleanor, and it just popped into my mind, because she’s supposed to have a bunch of powers. Sorry. I’ve been thinking way too far ahead. Nevermind.))
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.]
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240- Elanor already has enough power without being able to change shape, but a shape-shifting character would be a good thing to introduce.
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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.
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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?
Every member of the expedition trudged along in silence, occasionally taking a swig of the qwestrade, remembering, pondering and wondering.
((We should divide this into chapters somehow. It’s up to the Keeper where.))
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243 – You’re right. I’m working on it.
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((Do you think that someone could write a quick summary of this or something? I’m curious to see what’s going on, but there are so many posts, and since I’m probably somewhere toward the beginning of a surge of users brought on by Kiki’s letter, it might come in very handy. If you think I’m just being lazy (which I probably am) I’ll go through and read it. xD
Actually, I think I’ll read it anyway. Is there any merit to my other thought, or am I just trying to assist others in the pursuit of laziness?))
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245 – I’d love to give you a summary. It would be a good idea if you read the whole thing anyway, but you might as well wait until there’s a new thread and I send in the whole thing without other posts and things in between. Here’s the summary:
Elanor, an average (except for being smart enough to skip a few grades) ten-year-old girl, recently got a note saying “Rose cafe 4 pm dont be late,” and she was amazingly surprised (and confused) by what she found when she got to there. She was told that she is the heir to a magical world called Etheterre.
Someone else say some more, please.
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I’m already almost halfway through. (I’m up to the discussion of the geography.)
Just out of curiosity, are you planning to do something with this at the end? Since you’re dividing it into chapters and stuff…
It would be awesome if we could get it published in Muse in installments or something after some revision at the end.
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This is from post 120:
The story chronicles the adventures of Elanor Wing, an ordinary (at least as ordinary as you can be if you’ve skipped several grades and are a whiz at fencing) ten-year-old girl who finds out that she is the heir to Etheterre, a world where fantasy becomes reality and possibilities are facts. She is brought there by the magician Nikolas Roglea and his apprentice Lance, who explain that Elanor’s father was the former king of Etheterre. He was killed by a certain faction of Etheterrans called the Usurpers, who now rule almost all of Etheterre.
Anyway, I’m off to eat dinner.
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Good to see ya, Margaret! We could use some fresh ‘Riters around here. Are you new?
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I am indeed very new. First posted yesterday. ;D I’ve only been reading Muse for like, 5+ years…took me long enough to get my butt in here! But yeah, I’m going to take a shot at this ‘riting thing once I’ve finished catching up on the story.
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250- Awesome! If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask. You might also want to take a gander at the background info in posts 99 to 127.
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((Less than 50 posts away from a new thread!))
“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.
Intinier rummaged through her pockets, finally pulling out a battered map that was fraying around the creases. “Hmmm…” 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.”
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“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.
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.
“That’s it,” Intinier gasped. “The seal of Lord Emeralek. He was the one who built the passage.”
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((While we’re talking of sequels and things like that, this one should end with the defeat of Zefethelyan. If we do ‘Rite another one, it should start with a lot of continents being free, and the remaining Usurpers fighting among themselves, but with one of them having a grand scheme to rise to power again. Just a thought or three.))
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Intinier stepped into the chamber, the light from her phosphorescent skin illuminating the dimness. She leaned over and pressed the symbol in the floor.
Nothing happened.
“Now, what was that?” she muttered. “The manuscript clearly states…”
Elanor tuned out. Her attention had been caught by a faint golden glow forming around Emeralek’s seal. Fascinated, she touched it.
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.
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((Oh dear. The times in the passage are going to be impossible for me to write. Just impossible. I’ll just watch. If I get an idea, I’ll put it in there. I’m inventing and looking for riddles for the Midepils right now, in fact.))
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256- Riddles? If there were any riddles in etheterre, they probably wouldn’t make any sense to someone from reality, just a hint.
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.
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257 – I know. Midepils do riddles. We’ll have to come up with Etheterre riddles for them. I’m working on one. The answer is Surriskar. It’s stringing words together.
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“What was that?” Elanor finally choked out.
“I think this is the passage,” Lance said. “Shall we start going down?”
“I don’t see why not,” Intinier replied. “I hope everyone has enough Qwestrade left for another serving.”
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.
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.”
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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.
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.
She was brought sharply back to reality by Intinier’s shrill scream.
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.
“Four of them… Two to me, two to thou.”
“I claim the tender humans.” This was followed by a noise that sounded like something licking its lips.
The first voice came in again. “What riddles shall we ask?”
“Oh, qaadrekth,” Emburr whispered. “Midepils.”
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I’m almost finished with the riddle – can I claim the section where they actually ask it?
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Okay. I’m finished. I can easily change it a bit, though, which might be necessary. I added things about personal stuff. I think that Midepils should be able to know the life story of every person, and if they like the person, they’ll give them something that they can answer. If they don’t….. well, you can guess how that goes. I have some information that is in these that they’ll know. And they are not at all fond of Emburr or Intinier, and they don’t have a particular fondness for Lance, but Elanor…. let’s just say that I would like it if Elanor saved them from getting a riddle that they can’t do.
This riddle will use
All thee together
For a line of small words
[a line that I don’t have a rhyme for will be here with your help – it has to explain that it’s a string of words]
Indicates Elanor:
You – Your brother said boo-boo
when he was quite young
In other new words
He used a similar tongue
If you take out an e
from a part of that word
The start of the string
Soon will be heard.
Indicates Intinier:
(gtg, I’ll post the rest later)
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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.
“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-”
A long tongue slithered out from its mouth and pensively licked the broad lips.
“I just hate Midepils,” Emburr muttered.
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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.
Somehow, the Midepil still managed to speak. “For that, thou shalt have the honor of going first.”
It dropped Emburr unceremoniously and pinned him to the stone floor between two of its finger blades. Then it began to recite.
“Without me all things would die.
I fall quickly from on high.
Devoured I am with teeth of green,
But still I come, and still I’m seen.”
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263 – Great idea. That way it will work like a huge puzzle, and we can all put in riddles.
264 – I’m thinking…. the sun? Just a guess… and absolutely wonderful rhymes, by the way, even if you didn’t write it. And if you didn’t write it, great choice.
Rest of riddle:
Thy father once told thee
You came from a beast
It ate what it found, see,
– It could eat quite a feast [terrible rhymes, I know – live with it. If you can come up with something better, PLEASE tell me! And another thing – I didn’t know about their thee thy thou/shalt speak until you had that first thing, so I’m changing it as I go along. If I miss something, don’t hesitate to tell me about that too.]
If thou can remember
The sound of those creatures
Or the sound of one member
Of all of its features
You will be the second
To be a string teacher
“Isn’t that a good pun?” said the Midepil proudly.
And I’ll give you the rest later.
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Elanor doesn’t have a brother. OR DOES SHE? It would make a great plot twist. He would have to be younger, though, or her half-brother if he was older, because she’s the one who wields the Codex.
It was sunlight in my riddle. Good guess. And I did make it up.
PLOT TWIST(S?) (If you don’t like it(them?), say so.)
Nikolas Roglea was originally married to Morgan Tessell, and lived in Labarynth City with their young son. Nikolas was beginning to investigate a source of corruption in the government. At the time, Zefethelyan was a young captain of the Atlantean Guards, and a rising star among those favored by the aged ruler, Twiggnth Wing. He was already beginning to gather allies and formulate his plot. Since Nikolas was close to unmasking him, he sent a large part of the Guards to attack Nikolas and his family. In the battle that followed, an unexplained magical explosion of incredible power (possibly a weapon invented by Athrana or Dinkikinisicus) transpired. Morgan ended up in Reality with no memory of her past. Nikolas’ son ended up in some circumstances that I haven’t made up yet, but led to him becoming a messenger boy. (Yes, this is Lance.) Nikolas thought that his family was dead and that Twiggnth had ordered the attack. Embittered by this, he joined Zefethelyan’s plot. Meanwhile, Atherton had come of age, and Twiggnth had stepped down, wishing to spend the rest of his life in peace and quiet. On one of his visits to Reality, Atherton met Morgan. (Eventually, they fell in love- yes, Morgan is Elanor’s mother.) A few years later, Elanor was born. Tragically, this was also about the same time that Zefethelyan made his move. Atherton was killed, and Morgan fled with her days-old child to Reality.
By the way, Nikolas had no idea who Lance was. He only took him on as apprentice because he thought that his “Inside Lance” power could be useful. Nikolas survived the incident at the Rose Cafe, and became the new Usurper of Kolombent. (Gaelor is an anagram of Roglea.)
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Less than 40 posts away from the main page.
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“Ummm…” 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-
Leaves. What do leaves eat…
“Sunlight!” he cried triumphantly.
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266 – He’s younger. The answer is “Sure” instead of “Yes,” which is famous in her family. It’s the only one that she knows about, really. I based it off of my cousin, who used to do the same thing.
gtg, it’s too late. I’ll tell the rest later. I know I say that a lot. But it is late.
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269- Oh. She actually does have a younger brother. Scratch the plot twists unless you like them
30 more posts!
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“BAH!” the Midepil spat, spraying globules of slime. “‘Tis thy turn.”
The first Midepil slithered forward. “Hmmm… Haven’t had human in ages. The young one looketh most tender, but the larger one hath more meat upon him.”
The creature suddenly came to a decision, advancing on Lance.
“Hidden the ending,
In mid’ the beginning,
The first part existing,
Not losing or winning.
The words come together,
To signify ‘start’,
Add the sound of a bell,
Then take off the first part.”
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271 – Engine is what I came up with…. but that makes no sense. And I didn’t take off the first part. Hm… I don’t know. If I don’t know the answer, I can’t possibly go through is thought process. Or maybe I can! Just the thought process I did!: ))
“Er…” Lance thought. “Could you repeat it, slowly?”
The Midepil did.
Lance wrote it down on the ground. He came up with these pieces of writing:
n or en
n or gin
ex or e
“Engine….” Lance pondered.
((I have to do something else… stupid life…. ))
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Lance squeezed his eyes shut, concentrating. Mid’ the beginning… The middle syllable was “gin.” The first part… Existing. Is, are, be…Be. Gin. Begin! Add the sound of a bell… Beginring? Take off the first part…Eginring? What about the first part of “ring?”
“Beginning!” he exclaimed.
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266- I don’t know. I sort of thought that Mr. Roglea was the one who originally recieved the message from Lance, not his father. The whole Elanor/Lance brother/sister thing is a little complicated. I’m sure the plot will develop as we go along, though. The Roglea/ Galeor thing is cool, though. Did somebody plan that.
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With a resentful grunt, the Midepil moved on to Intinier.
“I am th…” He started.
“The answer is the pink slime beast of Zundor.” Intinier interjected.
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.
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I planned the Gaelor/Roglea thing. But you’re right. Let’s just make up the plot as we go along.
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The first Midepil slithered forward. “And for thee, girl,” it said, “the Riddle of Thusfinks.”
Intinier gasped. “She’s just a girl! Nobody has ever managed to solve- ”
“Silence, Capenlent.”
“But-”
“Hold thy tongue or I’ll rip it out.”
“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.”
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A smile crossed the Midepil’s face, and it continued speaking.
“When a traitor takes the throne
He cannot be faced alone.
Four confront him without hope,
Yet there are things beyond their scope.
A child, heir to crown and book,*
Another, changing with a look,**
A cook who comes through whirling sand,***
A mage, who trained with usurped hand.****
What are their names, these four who fight
Against the onset of the night?”
“Sounds more like a prophecy to me,” said Lance, who had never heard it before.
“No matter,” the Midepil said. “She must answer.”
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21 posts till we get to the main page. As you say, “squee.”
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Elanor thought. And thought. Her brain felt like it was exploding. It didn’t help that the Midepil was staring hungrily at her.
In her concentration, she failed to notice that she was hovering a few feet off the tunnel floor.
The Midepil slithered backwards in shock. “Heir to crown and book,” it murmured.
Heir to crown and book, Elanor thought. Is that me?
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.
She began to speak. “Elanor Wing. Intinier Carushaluk. Emburr du Kendomalin. Lance…?” 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.
“BAH!!!!!!!!!” the Midepil spat. “We’ll have to let them go.”
“Not so fast,” said the other. “They must answer the group riddle.”
((THF, this is all yours. Enjoy. ))
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280 – Thanks. I will.
“Imaganrius.” Intinier whispered. “These can be hard or easy. Let’s just hope.”
Okay, I hate to say this, but I’ll continue later. I have to go to bed.
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We are only 18 posts away from the main page.
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Hmm. Not much to do. I’ll make up an Usurper to pass the time…
Lwdyn, the Usurper of Zundor
He is a Kikithn, but he is unable to fly, having been born with stunted wings. He is neither a great mage like Dinkikinisicus, a mastermind like Athrana, or a great fighter like Kaabne, but what he lacks in those qualities he makes up for with pure cruelty. Since he cannot fly, his legs are unusually well developed and powerful. Whether enhanced by magic or developed in absence of other abilities, the defensive spurs on his ankles have grown to nearly twice the size of those on other Kikithns. Not being able to fly would be terrible enough for one of his kind, but a bully in his home nest-colony attacked him one day, severely damaging his vocal cords and robbing him of his ability to sing. This left him bitter and seething for revenge. When he was young, other Kikithns regarded him with a mixture of pity and disgust. Now, they regard him with fear. The bully who had attacked him died under mysterious circumstances five years after Lwdyn came to power.
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16 more posts till the main page! THF, suppose you finish up the riddle, we get them to Kaabne’s fortress, and if there is any room left we use it as a countdown?
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THF, I don’t want to sound impatient, but could you please post the rest of the riddle? Of course, if you could get on here, you would probably post it, so the fact that you have not means that you probably have a lot of school work or activities or some other perfectly good reason not to come on MuseBlog, and I’m probably being dumb and inconsiderate by asking you to post it, and this post doesn’t help anyway, since you can’t read it, and now I feel guilty, and I’m trapped in a really long run-on sentence, and there’s no end in sight, and that was kind of what I planned on for some weird reason, and now this post is getting pointless, and as you are a PoPoPo you will probably get mad and banish me from the random thread, which is fine because I never go there anyway, but it’s the humiliation of the thing. Sorry.
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14 posts left. Sorry, THF, I just have to do something on this thread. If I get to 299 posts, I’ll leave the last one open for your riddle, just so it doesn’t continue too early and someone pounces on this part before you have a chance.
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Maybe I’ll put this on the Visit these Threads thread.
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((PC – I’m so sorry. Yeah, I just couldn’t come on. But I am devoting this time soully (sp?) to writing the section with the riddle. Sound like a plan? Good. ))
One Midepil began, “This riddle will use
All thee together
For a line of small words
[a line that I don’t have a rhyme for will be here with your help – it has to explain that it’s a string of words]
The other Midepil looked straight at Elanor, but did not hold her. “You – Your brother said boo-boo
When he was quite young
In other new words
He used a similar tongue
If you take out an e
from a part of that word
The start of the string
Soon will be heard.” It gestured towards the other Midepil to continue.
Thy father once told thee
You came from a beast
It ate what it found, see,
– It could eat quite a feast
If thou can remember
The sound of those creatures
Or the sound of one member
Of all of its features
You will be the second
To be a string teacher
“Isn’t that a good pun?” said the Midepil proudly. “Anyway:
Half of that word
Must be deleted
Or t’will sound quite absurd
When with the rest it is treated. ((I know, awful rhyme and rhythm and just plain reason. But I can’t think of anything else.))
((Gah! Dinner! Will finish later, I promise!))
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Thanks, THF. We are getting closer to the main page. I may not spend as much time on this as I used to in the future, because there is another RRR that deserves some attention. But I promise I will come on and add my contribution of exotic meals and bizarre beasties to the storyline once in a while, and that’s a promise.
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11 posts till main page. I just found this and it’s about to become flooded with other Musers. I’ve voulenteered for working on the currently front page RRR, but I only just found this one. These riddles are amazing! Maybe make that last line “And you shall be defeated.”
This story definently needs to be elongated and published. Taiwan Hippo Fan, Julieb, and Pralius Canix – You guys are amazing writers. Once a few things are straightened out, this could make a best-selling novel (or at least I think so.) I won’t post part of the story now and screw up the plot you’re working on, but I might try posting here when I think of something worthwhile. A shape-shifting person would be cool, as you said before, but I think you’d need to bring in a new main-ish character for that. The shape shifter doesn’t neccesarily need to be good, so it won’t screw with “the four” riddle. I hope this continues into a nice, long story. I’d definently buy it!
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Perhaps Lance will begin to shape-shift as he gains more control of his “Inside Lance” power. It should be just minor things, while he’s under stress- different color eyes, that sort of thing- at least at first. Thank you for the wonderful compliments, Kiara. Don’t worry, it will be much longer. THF is the Keeper of the Story. She’s got it on Word. Once we have finished the story, we’ll go through and look for anomalies, and THF can correct them on the Keeper’s Edition. Then we can talk about publishing.
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8 posts left! Sorry if I is being pointless. To give this post a point… Kiara, do you want to make up an Usurper? The only untaken continent is Surriskar, which corresponds to Australia. The natives are Acropons, who resemble scaly kangaroos.
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GAPAs- Just to make sure, will you continue this when it hits 300? You’re usually very diligent, but sometimes a thread goes past the minimum continuation number.
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Six more. I’m sorry, I just get giddy when a thread approaches the main page.
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This is the first RRR I’ve been doing from its beginning. It’s nice to see a story develop. Especially when you don’t have to write it all yourself 
Just kidding.
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292 – Sounds good! What’s the climate like? Judging by the way the world seems to have been flipped on it’s side in the world other from reality (sorry I forgot the name. I read through this entire thing yesterday) It would be slightly north of the equator, making it reasonably warm.
Usurper: Selvana – Formerly the leader of the Usurping in Surriskar, she recieved the continent in thanks. Selvana is a reasonably good mage, but enjoys engaging in hand-to-hand combat more than fighting with magic. She was once trained by the great fighter Aparanox and, aside from being the Usurper of Surriscar, she also heads a fighting group for possible wars. Selvana is an Acropon with a mix of green, purple and blue scales. Such a color combination was very rare, and she was often teased for it as a child . This could have been one of the factors in becoming part of the Usuping. She resides near the Ayer’s Rock ortal to keep a more vigilant eye on who comes and goes. Unwanted guests are often quickly disposed of, not by the guards, but by Selvana herself. 
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Kiara: Very good Usurper. I was thinking that Surriskar would have a swampy climate, since most of Australia is fairly dry.
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Just 2 more posts. Have any RRRs ever had sequels, not continuations, but to the actual story?
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I don’t know if I’ll be able to contain myself much longer, THF. I’ve been waiting to get this thread on the main page for so long…
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I’ll push us over the top and create the continuation thread.
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