Arboria

by Anthony Stefano

  “Golmuth, near the cemetery on the road to Synerum there is a hollow tree where I hid Harlan Gori’s book. Take good care of it, it is yours now.”

  “I will take care of it, Alexander, I promise,” said the dwarf.

  “Dongo, I give you this shoot that Ramenor gave to me. I know that you will take the greatest care of it. You are more qualified than we are for this kind of thing.”

  “It shall be the most beautiful tree in Arboria,” said the Elwing.

  “I have no doubt,” said Alexander with a broad smile.

  Antarus hugged the children one last time.

  “You are all as brave as Ice Orpes. You have proved your valour. Your names will be engraved on a tablet of eternal ice at Synerum forever.”

  It was decided to destroy the portal in order to prevent such a situation from ever happening again.

  “Are you sure you want to do that?” Alexander asked the dwarfs.

  “Yes,” they said.

  “Perhaps there are more portals,” said Golmuth.

  “I have a feeling of déjà vu,” said Dongo to dispel the heavy atmosphere.

  “Thank you all,” said Alexander, “without you, we would never have been successful.”

  Jonathan, who was also present that day, handed Ganarock and Vulcaria to Antarus and said goodbye to his new friends. His skin began to burn.

  “Thank you, thank you for this. I will never forget it.” He turned towards Alexander. “We will see each other in a few years,” and he stepped through the portal.

  “Why in a few years?” asked Amy, “I don’t understand.”

  “By crossing the portal, he has gone back to the time when he first disappeared, when he was still a child,” said Alexander.

  “Let’s go,” said Hope, “I want to see my parents.”

  “Goodbye my friends, I will never forget you,” said Alexander before taking his turn to step through the portal.

  “Neither will we,” replied his friends.

  Shouting resonated through the forest surrounding the house at the edge of the woods.

  “Dad, mum!” shouted Alexander.

  All of the parents came running from the house in their house, thinking that something bad must have happened.

  “You’re mad, shouting like that,” said Karen.

  The children hugged all of their parents tightly.

  “What happened, kids?”

  “We’re just really happy to see you!”

  “But you only went to go and play in the woods a quarter of an hour ago!”

  “It just seems like it was a really long time.”

  “Mum, I have to tell you,” said Amy, “we were fighting an evil Sorceress with dwarfs!”

  “Oh, children, another one of your silly games?”

  All the children clung to their parents and didn’t leave them. Dinner was organised outside that night and the children had one of the most beautiful evenings of their lives. The next morning, a noise woke Alexander. Someone was knocking on the door of the house.

  “Hello,” said François.

  Alexander jumped out of bed and dressed quickly. The other children were still sleeping peacefully. He left his room and found a stranger sitting on the sofa and talking to all the parents. He seemed familiar, but Alexander could not recall where he might have met that man.

  “Come here, Alexander,” said François, “this is an old friend of mine. His name is Jonathan. When we were children, we used to have some wonderful holidays here with the priest who took care of the orphans.”

  “Hello, Jonathan,” Alexander said politely, a large smile on his face.

  “Hello, Alexander, very nice to meet you,” said Jonathan with a knowing grin.

  CHAPTER 14: ALL’S WELL THAT ENDS WELL

  The portal was destroyed just after the children departed and to this day it is not known if another one exists somewhere on Earth.

  The castle of Avengard was abandoned just as Aramunt Vell had once been. Nobody dares to venture into the ancient fortress of the Sorceress out of fear of the traps that she might have left behind. Those brave individuals who do still dare approach the castle say that they can hear strange sounds coming from within.

  Eolmuth ruled in Between-Two-Rocks until his death. He was buried just beside the tomb of Werner Gravenstein.

  Gamar did a good deed for it was he who had freed Geum, Gom, Gorom and Gorynth from Avengard by breaking their chains. He decided not to listen to Harol and went a different way to the other gnomes. In spite of it all, he was banished from Kratoa, disappeared into the forest, and nobody saw him ever again.

  After the Queen’s defeat, the Fire Orpes returned, vanquished, to Vulcania. No sanction was put against them except for the promise never to wage war again. Antarus returned Vulcaria to them as a sign of peace, and even though there was no more war, that defeat had left a bitter taste in the mouths of everyone at Katorock.

  Tobias was captured and imprisoned at Synerum and spent the rest of his days in a cell of ice at the order of Oden. He claimed to have been under the Sorceress’ spell until the end of his days.

  King Oden ruled for another dozen years after the children departed. He rebuilt High-View and died there of old age, the weight of years having finally caught up with him. He was buried at High-View as he had ordered, at the place where Ramenor had once stood. His statue was erected in every town as a commemoration of his valorous deeds.

  Golmuth, the courageous dwarf, became as famous as Theodoril in Arboria. He became a guardian of memory and was King Oden’s personal advisor during the reconstruction of High-View. After King Oden’s death, he returned to live at Between-Two-Rocks and became a teacher. He founded the first school in Arboria and taught both dwarfs and humans. He also reclaimed the book from the hollow tree and made numerous copies so that everyone could learn the story of Harlan Gori.

  Antarus reconciled with his brother Glacius and became the legitimate ruler of Synerum. Together, they rebuilt the city of ice and erected an enormous ice tablet to commemorate the children. Ganarock took its place at Synerum. He sometimes left Synerum to pay a visit to the small house in the tree where Gravenstein had once lived. Even though it was too small for him to enter, Antarus enjoyed standing below, alone, guarding the memory of Alexander and their meeting.

  Geum and Gom were crowned kings and it was the first time that any civilisation in Arboria had been governed by two sovereigns at the same time. Kratoa prospered under their rule and opened their doors to humans. Today, human and gnomes live side by side in the wonderful cave.

  Gorom and Gorynth were welcomed as heroes and told of their exploits for the rest of their lives, never hesitating to take the opportunity to exaggerate their tales.

  Dongo returned to Numera and took care of the ‘special’ shoot. The community of Elwings grew rapidly and the majority of them helped to ensure that all the inhabitants of Arboria respected nature. Never had the land been so covered by flowers. The other Elwings did not understand how it was possible, but time did not seem to have a hold on Dongo. Could he have found a way to lengthen his life?

  Silmaril began a career in writing and wrote the stories of this great epic. He and the Kirantorus became inseparable. He also revealed the location of Theodoril’s tomb and his house became a museum. He was offered the position of the leader of the rock dwarfs, but he categorically declined the proposal.

  The consumption and mistreatment of animals were banned throughout the kingdom by King Oden, and humans had to learn to live off the land.

  Amy grew up to be a beautiful young woman, and she slept with her favourite doll every night. Like Golmuth, she taught at school, having studied to be a history teacher. She is celebrating her 30th birthday today.

  Meredith had a more complicated life. She married quickly and had many children. She found a passion for painting. She painted a fantastic universe on canvas: castles, forests and even strange beings she called Orpes.

  Hope became a doctor. She said that
she had wanted to become a doctor ever since she had treated men on the battlefield. Everyone thought she was just saying that to embellish her story, what battle could she have been part of?

  Alexander became an author and wrote a book called Arboria: The Land Between the Trees. He married and had a child. When his son began to read, he told him every night part of his great adventure in the land of Arboria before falling asleep. Alexander lost sight of Hope and his friends. Now, in the adult world, everyone led their own lives.

  A few years after their adventures, the priest died and the house on the edge of the woods was sold. Alexander never saw Hope or Amy again. From time to time he met Meredith when she came to visit her parents.

  Secretly, all of them hoped one day to discover a new portal leading to Arboria.

  In the end, against all odds, Arboria was saved by children. In our world, some species of animals are endangered, and we kill thousands of them for money and some for pure pleasure. We are also cutting down forests so that some people can become richer, and we move thousands of animals to take possession of their homes. We also move whole peoples to extract riches from the soil. The human species is on the wrong track. We are disrupting the climate of the Earth. We make war. We are doing all this, forgetting that we are only tenants of this beautiful planet. We must hope that one day Man will finally become aware of this unique chance to inhabit the Earth. Should we not keep hope in our children? Maybe someday, the world will change. It certainly will not be thanks to us... but thanks to them.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  CHAPTER 1: THE KEY

  CHAPTER 2: THE HOUSE AT THE EDGE OF THE WOODS

  CHAPTER 3: A STRANGE NEW FRIEND

  CHAPTER 4: THE FORTRESS OF KHERR

  CHAPTER 5: THE TALKING PLANT

  CHAPTER 6: KRATOA, THE UNTRACEABLE CITY

  CHAPTER 7: THE BEARDED OLD MAN

  CHAPTER 8: THE LAND OF FIRE

  CHAPTER 9: AVENGARD

  CHAPTER 10: THE MOUNTAINS OF SYLUM

  CHAPTER 11: RETURN TO ARBORIA

  CHAPTER 12: THE TRAITOR

  CHAPTER 13: THE FINAL BATTLE

  CHAPTER 14: ALL’S WELL THAT ENDS WELL

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

  BOOK DESCRIPTION

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Anthony Stefano is a Belgian writer of Italian origin. For his first novel, A William Carson Investigation: The Blood Castle, he travelled four times to London where the plot of the book takes place. He returned to the scenes of Jack the Ripper's crimes with a ripperologist (a specialist on Jack the Ripper) to deepen his level of knowledge of the enigma. Even though Jack the Ripper himself does not play the central role in the novel, the author believes the research was necessary in order to properly immerse readers and plunge them into the difficult life and times in the poor neighbourhoods of Victorian England.

  Facebook : https://www.facebook.com/sonantho/

  Concerning Arboria, the idea first came about in 2008. The first chapter was written in that same year, but the book was then shelved for the time being. Driven by the success of his first book William Carson in 2014, he once again sat down to write and, four years later, Arboria was born. People often ask: "why did you wait four years?" Well, 2015 saw the birth of his first child and all of his attention focus there like a breaking wave.

  But back to Arboria.

  You should know that all of the story preceding the children's arrival in Arboria is true: the town of Durbuy, the castle and the hose at the edge of the woods really do exist, as do the wooden car racing around the house, and so on...

  NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

  If you loved or loathed this book, you can help by leaving a comment on Amazon, Kobo or Google Books. It will only take a few minutes and I would be very grateful. I read each and every comment left on these sites and in many other places.

  Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  If you have not yet read A William Carson Investigation, here is a short extract:

  BOOK DESCRIPTION

  Something is afoot in Durbuy, the smallest town in the world. Alexander, Hope, Meredith and Amy are spending a wonderful time on holiday with their parents in a house at the edge of a forest when, quite by accident, they stumble across a gateway into a fantastic land populated by dwarfs, gnomes and a host of other creatures each stranger than the last. But they are not the only ones looking for a way back to their own world; a mysterious Sorceress has been trying to locate the portal for the last several centuries...

  If you have not yet read A William Carson Investigation, here is a short extract:

  A

  William Carson Investigation.

  The blood castle

  Anthony Stefano

  Copyright © 2019Anthony Stefano

  Translated from French by Ellen Bain Prior

  For Sonia, without whom this book would never have seen the light of day.

  3

  For David, Laurent and Rudy, for all the hours spent brainstorming. I do hope they recognize themselves in this book.

  4

  For Cécile, who, I am sure, prefers the layout of this book to M+9.

  5

  For Lionel,

  who had the idea for the cover page.

  6

  Chapter 1: London 1889 – Premises of the Royal Mail.

  7

  London, in late 1889, the world’s most populous city. With its artists and its aristocracy, its wealthy quarters on the one hand and its poverty-stricken ones on the other, these latter the haunt of paupers and the destitute. As usual, the town was still bustling, despite the lateness of the hour. The day was drawing to a close, it was almost seven o’clock in the evening, darkness had fallen and the rattling of carriages along the fog-bound streets could be heard through the windows of a nearby building, its façade blackened by the smoke from nearby factories. And it is here, in early October, on the second floor of the premises of England’s Royal Mail, that this story begins.

  — Mr Carson, may I introduce myself.

  The speaker was a rather corpulent man.

  — Henry Spector

  And he shook his visitor’s hand. Spector had a bushy, white moustache and long, grey whiskers. His clothes reeked of the cigar he had just finished smoking, the stub lay in the ashtray on the desk. He sat down in his armchair.

  — First of all, I should say that I have heard a great deal about you.

  He said, lighting up another cigar.

  — I wish we could have met under more propitious circumstances. Please, do take a seat.

  Indicating the chair on the other side of his desk. William duly sat down.

  — I brought you here to consult you about a rather difficult problem. Will you take a glass of whisky?

  — No, thank you, replied William. I don’t drink spirits.

  — Perhaps you would like a cup of tea?

  — No, thank you, William replied, politely.

  — Very well.

  The man rose and poured himself a glass of whisky.

  — I’ve been the Director of the Royal Mail for the past ten years. We’ve seen some ups and downs, just like everyone else. But now I am going to tell you a rather strange story. In January this year, a mail coach travelling between London and Brighton mysteriously vanished, without a trace. What of that, you may say. It may have had an accident or else simply been stolen. At all events, neither the coach, nor the mail and passengers it was carrying have been found. Three months later, in April, another London to Brighton coach disappeared. Again, nothing further was heard of the mail or the coachman. Until this point, we suspected there might have been foul play from the coachmen, stealing the coaches for some purpose of their own.

  With this, the man moved towards the window and gazed down at the comings and goings in the busy street below.

  — Last month, my partner disappeared, together with three other men. They and the coach they were travelling in a
re still missing to this day. Mr Carson, my men are all on edge, rumours abound about bandits, ghosts and a hundred other theories. If this business were to get out and come to the notice of the Queen or the newspapers, I would be out on my ear with nothing left to do but drown my sorrows in some Whitechapel bar. You know what they say about Whitechapel, don’t you, Mr Carson?

  William knew all too well. Some months earlier, he had been involved in Detective Abberline’s investigation into Jack the Ripper. All those destitute beggars sleeping rough, people dying in the streets daily from cold or illness. Women slaving all day and walking the streets all night.

  — Yes, I know Whitechapel, Sir. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. Why don’t you call in Scotland Yard? asked William.

  — Scotland Yard, sneered Spector. Scotland Yard is only interested in murders and bloodshed. Disappearing mail coaches are too banal for them. Besides, I don’t want this affair to become known. My reputation could end up in the mud. Mr Carson, I want you to handle this with the utmost discretion. Do you understand?

  William nodded.

  — I can’t rely on the police the same way I can on you, a private detective. You have my full permission to investigate freely, to search this building, the coaches and the coachmen. I implore you to find out what has happened to those people and our coaches.