by M. Arcturus
He took Merlin’s crystal ball out of the velvet bag and placed it on its wooden stand. Holding the feather in between the lamp and the crystal ball, he watched as the light of the lamp lit up the feather, which in turn displayed Kajaka’s memories into the crystal ball. Unfortunately, he couldn’t make sense of what he was seeing. The memories were all jumbled up. He moved the feather out of the light and looked at it questioningly. Then it hit him; there was a good chance that the oldest memories were stored in the quill and the newest memories were housed in the tip. Lighting up the entire feather displayed all of Kajaka’s memories at once. He would have to figure out a way to focus a beam of light only on the tip of the feather.
In desperation, the ranger looked around his office. His Lord and Lady were waiting for him, and the pressure was on. In a flash of inspiration, he rushed around his office like a mad man. He placed a stack of books under his desk lamp, tied the feather down to the top of a candlestick, set the candlestick down on the desk, and pulled out his dirk. Carefully, with the point of the blade, he worked the door off of the cupboard and dug out one of the knots in the wood. Then he leaned the door of the cupboard up against the lamp and stack of books. Next, he grabbed his spyglass and brass tripod, setting them down in-between the lamp and the candlestick. He had arranged all of the items on his desk from tallest to shortest. Starting from the left, the tallest point, was the lamp on the stack of books, then the cupboard door with the hole, which only allowed a beam of light to shine through. Next, he had the spyglass, with the objective lens pressed against the hole in the door, and the spyglass was angled down with the eyepiece pointed at the feather. The spyglass was at such an angle to where the light hit only the tip of the feather and projected the memories into the crystal ball. What he saw startled him, and he shed a tear when he found the hidden message within the feather. He was amazed at Kajaka’s feather, which had served as a tiny green organic capsule filled with so many memories, yet he was pained with the message he was about to deliver.
Extinguishing the flame of the oil lamp, he ran out of his office and raced through the halls as fast as he could toward the throne room. He burst in through the large double doors, darting across the narrow rock bridge, which connected the entry to his Lord’s sanctuary. As he neared the throne, he cried, “Lord, please forgive the intrusion. They have her imprisoned. Your daughter, she’s dying!”
The Lord and Lady kept still in their shaded overhang. There he was, Lord Oberon, sitting on his throne with his Lady standing to his left. His hazel eyes peered through the darkness, intimidating anyone in his presence. He raised his hand ever so slightly, palm out to the ranger running toward them. The ranger stopped dead in his tracks, fell to his knees, and opened up the palm of his hand. Without looking up, he could feel the feather leave his hand and float toward the will of his Lord. The visible hand of Lord Oberon swallowed the feather when it floated within reach. Through anger, he clutched the feather in his fist, his knuckles turned white with strain, and he hit the arm of his chair.
The earth began to rumble as he said through clenched teeth, “Ready the boats. We sail for Atlantis tonight! Summon Sorbek; his presence will be required!”
The ranger took off down into the bowels of the empire. There he found Sorbek inspecting the work of his blacksmith. The blacksmith wiped the sweat from his brow, acting casual as he tried to hide his nervousness. Sorbek was one of his finest customers, so pleasing Sorbek was very important to him. Sorbek’s red-orange eyes sparkled as he raised the sword to eye level to look at the blade. When he was satisfied, he threw the sword almost recklessly back at the smith. The smith caught it with the greatest of ease. The ranger looked on with amusement and admiration. He could tell that they had done that before. Not having the skill, the ranger knew there was no way he could have been a part of that without getting severely injured.
Sorbek’s ears turned outward when his attention focused on the surroundings. He had been so caught up in his new toy that he hardly noticed the ranger standing there. In an instant, Sorbek had him pinned up against the wall. His fur rose all over his body, and his maw was pulled back taut over his canine teeth. Just as suddenly as he attacked, he realized who it was, and set the ranger down. His red-orange eyes softened, and he gave a small bow in apology.
“Our Lord requests your presence down on the southwestern shore. Your orders are to sail toward Atlantis tonight,” the ranger stated, a bit shaken as he dusted himself off from the encounter with Sorbek.
It was very odd to see the shock on Sorbek’s face. His expression started to borderline panic. Deep in his mind, he stated over and over again that he was not ready for this, but he had no choice. Even a warrior had to show a more noble, softer side every now and then, but had he learned enough etiquette to impress her? He cast the fear aside. Pandora was just a girl; meeting her was not as dangerous as his daily tasks. Besides, he had orders to follow, and he would be honored to follow his Lord, even if it took him into the fiery depths of Hades. As he focused on his new task, it didn’t take him long to collect himself. He grabbed his Egyptian-like headdress off its stand and took a few weapons from a nearby rack. Among the weapons he chose was a war hammer given to him by Thor, and Wepwawet’s double-edged battle-ax. He turned and headed down the underground tunnel, which would lead him toward his beckoner.
The pads on his wolf-like feet made a slight scraping sound, almost like sandpaper raking against the stone floor of the tunnel. He was already suited up in his armor, prepared for anything. Then again, he rarely took his armor off. His long, royal-blue hair had a white underlayer. His hair lightly jolted with each footfall as he descended into the tunnel. From the waist up, he had the build of a man, and he walked upright like a man, but from the waist down he appeared to be all wolf. His entire body was covered in light gray fur, including his hands. On his palms, the pads were more like human skin, so he could grip objects, but his black nails were quite sharp. Because he had the head of a wolf, many referred to him as the wolf-man, or the great wolf. His eyes were the most haunting feature on his face. The piercing quality of his stare could turn one’s blood cold. Reaching seven feet tall and extremely lean, he could have commanded anyone’s attention. Against any opponent, he seemed formidable.
They reached the end of the tunnel and walked out into the open air. He put on his headdress and approached his Lord; he paused, knelt and crossed his right arm over his chest with his closed fist over his heart.
“My Lord, you summoned me,” the low rumble of his voice was filled with authority, yet soothing.
“We have new business in Atlantis. They will pay for their intrusion on my family.”
Sorbek looked shocked but lowered his head even more, now fully understanding the situation. The small militia summoned to the shore started to fill the boats ready to take sail. He stood up and took his place beside his Lord aboard the boat. As they sailed off to Atlantis, the Lady of Avalon sorrowfully watched her Lord, and he stared longingly back at her. They were both worried about their daughter, but being apart would hurt them just as much. Her Lord being swallowed up by the mist surrounding Avalon was the last thing she saw before she returned to their palace home.
It had been almost a full day since their captain and most of their crew had been taken hostage. None of their regular duties had been tended to, and nothing had been touched except the rum. Nine out of forty-five crew members were left aboard the Kinnowwa. Split motives were emotionally charged amongst the crew. Small differences were blown way out of proportion, almost to the size of an apocalypse. Three wanted to go to shore and save the captain, three wanted to stay adrift to wait the situation out, and three wanted to form a new crew and sail off. Since they couldn’t agree on what to do, and the crew was broken up equally in groups of three, they either drank for fun and reminisced, or drank as a pastime to collect their motives for mutiny.
Nightfall had set in by the time Seth’s vessel made con
tact with the junk’s hull. All lanterns on board the Kinnowwa were now lit, and the mast rippled softy in the breeze. Seth had killed most of the power on his watercraft, eliminating the lights and the 3D hologram navigational system. Using the atom modifier on his vessel, he turned the dial on the console to the rowboat setting and made his watercraft look like an old, torn up, wooden rowboat. Then he covered himself with the shadow cloak and waited for his boat to be noticed by one of the crew. His plan was to get the crew distracted with his boat, so he could climb aboard their ship undetected. Much to his dismay, it took a while. It felt like an hour had passed, and his patience was starting to wear thin. Five members of the crew were sitting in a circle on the main deck, singing and laughing, completely wasted. Two crew members were on the bow as sober as could be, discussing mutiny. The remaining two were using each other for support as they stumbled around the ship looking for a place to hang over the rail and pay homage to the water gods.
As they hung over the rail, they looked down and noticed Seth’s boat. At first, they didn’t think much of the little rowboat drifting around on the waves, but the eerie thumping sound it made as it knocked against their ship became a constant reminder that something was amiss. While they notified the rest of the crew, Seth used the opportunity to start climbing the side of the junk. Once aboard, he became gutsy and acted as one of the crew member’s shadow. Unlike the transparent form that Selené turned into when she wore the cloak, Seth moved and appeared like an actual two-dimensional shadow on the wall. Depending on the wearer, the cloak modified its abilities, and he quickly learned that he could also control the shadow he inhabited and make a shadow dense enough to become solid.
The crew was still extremely worked up about the vacant boat hovering around the port bow of the junk. Slowly, they dismissed it and started to agree that it must not have been tied down very well to its dock and had probably been blown out to sea by one of the recent storms. The largest party of the pirate crew finally settled back down around their fire and finished soothing each other’s nerves.
In his new shadow form, Seth picked up the shadow of an abandoned drinking glass from the top of a barrel, solidified the shadow, and poured himself some rum. Although the sides of the shadow glass dulled the golden color of the rum, it still looked like a small puddle of dark liquid was waltzing around in the air, but the pirates were too drunk and too absorbed in their own thoughts to notice. He sat down behind a pirate who had a similar body build, hid in the pirate’s shadow, took control of it, and became the man’s shadow.
Stories poured out of them like fountains of rum and ale. Seth found himself laughing with them. On occasion, he had to hold the laughter in to keep from being noticed. He was bonding with them. Even though there were times he couldn’t understand their dialect, he could still follow the story by the way they expressed themselves with hand gestures and over-exaggerated facial expressions. While sitting there, he observed their thought processes and movements as they spoke. They all spoke the same language, each with their own accent, for they were all from a different heritage. They all sat beside each other with no apparent discrimination. Even for a being like Seth, he felt accepted by them. It was like he was family. Even though they couldn’t see him, and he worked hard not to be seen, it was starting to become difficult to keep concealed amongst these kindred spirits.
Out of the shadows, a petite figure stumbled into the light. He appeared to be the oldest crew member. The other members of the crew grumbled and rolled their eyes when the old man wasn’t looking, but they still held a form of respect for him because they made a spot for him in their circle. Besides the fact that he’d had too much to drink, Seth could tell the old man had been through a lot. Seth could not deduce which region the man came from, but he was definitely from East Asia. So many deep lines were etched on the old man’s face. His eyes were hazy and incoherent, but when he started to speak, his eyes lit up and sparkled with a zest for life. At this point, he almost looked half crazed. The old man’s brown eyes became soft and wide with awe and excitement.
“Long, long ago in the seas near the port of Srivijaya, there was a great seaworthy ship with a powerful captain, and at the far reaches of the sea, a mischievous water dragon with an eye for trouble. Though the ship and her crew were content as fishermen, fate had other plans on the vast horizon. After a dark and bitter voyage to Japan for a shipment of supplies, standing on the pier at the Kyoto port was a young woman wrapped in a blanket escorted by two Japanese Navy soldiers.
“Before returning to Srivijaya, the captain watched as raindrops collected on her long eyelashes, making her tears stream down her face and fall from her red lips. Almost like a silent summoner, the execution block was standing on the hillside behind her, bloodied from the lives it had already taken. She was to die for what she believed in, a government that had stepped down from power, leaving its followers to die as nameless victims.
“The brave and powerful captain took pity on the young woman, and after a bit of persuasion, the Samurai soldiers handed her over, for she was destined to grace the deck of his mighty ship. Though many protested, she remained on board, watching the waves and spying on the captain. Days became months, and the captain was mysteriously found dead in his quarters. Suspicions ran high, and the girl was on the top of the crew’s accusations. She tried her best to keep the ship running smooth. Even after the old captain’s right-hand man took command, she still prevailed and ruled the waves.
“The crew soon found out that without the captain, their profits fell. It was he, all along, who raised the money they needed for their families. Two years passed, and the girl rose up to the rank of captain. Fishermen soon learned about fighting and espionage. Morals became ruthlessness and promises for wealth became a reality. It was the age of piracy. Families of the fishermen were lost to riches one by one. The captain’s heart of stone ruled with firm savage fists. Slowly, they had become hers.
“Days out at sea tamed the young girl, and she started to bond with her crew. Not only did she learn from them, but they also learned to respect her. The rays of the sun lit the mast on fire, and the spirits amongst the crew were grand. Fate, however, was not through with the crew. Caught in the worst storm brought on by the foulest Bennu and fiercest dragons, the ship was blown far out to sea. Mates were pulled under the deep blue by the grasp of sirens. The captain tightened her command over her people and pulled the ship out of the storm. Many were grateful and celebrated at the turn of events, but from low in the icy depths of the sea came the cry of a mischievous beast. They had beaten the storm, but now found themselves engulfed by fog. The crew didn’t care. They were too excited to stand on a firm deck and they drank their vices to commemorate the occasion. However, the captain knew better. She heard the haunting wails and stared into the mist. Only two crew members stood by her side watching the depths as they prepared themselves for combat.
“Though up in years, the Chinese shaman by her side moved agilely and quickly amongst the drunken crew, using rope as a lifeline to tie the men down to the ship. The shaman pulled the knots of each rope taut, securing the lifelines to the boat. The young, dark warrior left standing by the captain rounded up the weapons and artillery. His massive muscles strained as he swung around the ship putting everything into place. The captain herself prepared to dive into the icy blue to fight the beast in its own territory.
“The imposing beast was a great sea dragon who rose high out of the water. She hovered over the ship like a glittering ivory tower with three piercing blue eyes. Her transparent fins waved to and fro in the light breeze. It was then that the crew started to sober. Few on board could tell that though this creature emanated darkness, she was noble in her own right. No matter how fierce, the captain’s dark warrior from the Devil’s Land, Tahuni Lingah, stopped dead in his tracks, and the Chinese shaman knelt and prayed. However, the rest of the drunken crew lunged at the beast, swords drawn and war cries sounding. With one swi
ft gesture, the white water dragon grabbed the lifelines tied around their waists and tugged hard, breaking the knots holding their lifelines to the ship, pulling the crew under.
“The captain drew in one last breath and dived into the sea. She found her crew’s bodies floating near the belly of the dragon. Their flesh was bubbled and loose, almost as if it was about to fall from their bones. The dragon had excreted some sort of acid that had instantly killed them. Holding her breath, with great effort, she swam away from the scene. Even though the acid had become weak from dissipating in the water, it still burned at her flesh.
“She peered down into the ocean’s abyss, and something caught her eye. There were three glowing orbs of yellowish light shining far below the reaches of daylight. Resurfacing, she took another breath and submerged once again to quench her intrigue. Underwater, she looked back to where the dragon had once been, but the great white beast could not be found. Only the crew floated there, staring wide-eyed back at her.
“Deeper she swam until she stumbled onto a large nest with three golden eggs of light. Each egg was the size of two human heads put together. In the darkness, the dragon watched and waited to see what the captain would do. Enticed by the glowing orbs, the captain snatched up one of the eggs. The dragon shot out like a torpedo from her hiding place. The captain barely had time to turn around before the dragon had come face to face with her. With her mouth wide open, the dragon stopped dead in her tracks, two hundred feet from the captain. The underwater current caused by the dragon’s abrupt stop knocked the captain back by a few hundred feet as black ooze expelled from the dragon’s mouth. The captain swam a little further back, just enough to see that there was a massive spear that went through the dragon’s third eye, through the jaw, and had made contact with the ocean floor. She looked up to see her only two remaining crew members swim back up to the surface. With their combined strength, they had driven the spear through the dragon’s head just in time to save the captain’s life.
