Arcene: The Island

by Al K. Line

  He was incredibly powerful and had almost succeeded in putting an end to The Commorancy itself, wiping out centuries of hard work by Marcus, the founder, whose aim was to help humanity come through the terrible times and one day rebuild the world and make it better than it had ever been.

  Luckily, Fasolt failed, had become a new man, the terrible things he had done a weight around his neck that nearly made him give up and enter The Void, but he'd remained alive, had helped where he could and was accepted by his new family as a man saved for a purpose. They forgave him.

  Fasolt was one of the people Arcene cared for, obviously her young son coming first. She joked about how annoyed she got because he refused to ever wear clothes — he saw no point as he could change his temperature so easily to suit whatever environment he found himself in — but she loved him dearly, even if expressing such sentiments came hard for them both.

  Their past meant that love, and showing it, was often the last thing on their minds. Arcene had been alone for most of her childhood and the overriding concern was always survival. Now it was food — just like Leel, she could never get enough.

  "Leel! You little sneak!" Leel bounded off with the tail of the fish sticking out of her mouth. She turned and stared at Arcene, then swallowed it before she could do anything.

  "Haha, that's what you get when you daydream," said Fasolt. He handed Arcene a piece of succulent flesh and continued to eat.

  "I guess so, but still." Arcene turned to the fast-retreating Leel, already distracted by a bird flapping about in the grass some distance away. "You naughty girl." Arcene turned back to Fasolt. "Thanks for listening, I feel better already."

  "We're family, right?" Arcene nodded. "Well then, no need to apologize. It sounds like a lot of it was fun, and certainly interesting, but I won't put it on my list of places I want to visit. Ugh, those people at the blue castle sound crazy. Cup of tea?"

  "Ooh, yes please. I haven't had a proper cuppa for ages. You got sugar?" Fasolt stared at her like she had well and truly lost her mind. "Sorry, of course you have."

  "You know me so well." Fasolt rummaged around in his thin leather satchel that hung by his side, as much a constant companion as Arcene's sword. Fasolt had no need for a sword — if he wanted he could shut you down, turn your mind to nothing but goop quicker than Arcene could ever pull out her weapon and slice. And she was fast, very fast.

  Fasolt pulled teabags and sugar from his pouch and poured steaming water from the battered metal kettle into two fine bone-china teacups, complete with saucers. Arcene said nothing, didn't even think of it as unusual — Fasolt liked his home comforts even if he was in the middle of nowhere.

  It was a far cry from the centuries he had lived deep underground, covered in grime and the detritus of years, never washing and hardly connecting with the real world. All that was a long time ago, but the tales he had told Arcene would give her nightmares if she ever let them.

  They sat and sipped on their piping-hot tea. Arcene felt like she was almost home, the comfort of the familiar taste brought with it a real sense of what she was missing. "I can't wait to get back. It feels like it's been a lifetime."

  "Me too. It will be great to sleep in my own bed again. It's been a little rough out here."

  "How come you didn't go home after you dropped me off?" asked Arcene, keen to hear about his adventures now she'd shared hers.

  "I fell asleep." Fasolt looked embarrassed, almost.

  "Huh?"

  "I fell asleep," he said again, almost a whisper.

  "Well, so did I. We did loads of dozing."

  "No, I mean I feel asleep the whole time. I woke up this morning as it was the day I was supposed to come get you."

  "You fell asleep for weeks? What, like a bear hibernating?"

  "I guess so. Probably all the fresh air," he muttered.

  "Yeah, or you're getting old." Arcene stared at Fasolt. He looked the same as he always had. A skinny, naked man in his thirties and he always would, just like she would remain fifteen for what could be thousands of years.

  Fasolt stopped as he was about to take a sip of his tea, pinkie finger poking out how you were supposed to hold such delicate china, and frowned at Arcene. "No, it isn't that. I've got plenty of years left in me yet, plenty."

  "Well, what is it then?"

  "Nothing, I just fancied a nap."

  "Oh. Um, okay."

  Arcene knew there was no point asking more, as Fasolt could be secretive at times. He had seen so much, knew so much, that sometimes it was hard to fathom him. After all, this was probably one of only a couple of people in the whole world that had grown up before The Lethargy. He had a very different perspective on the world as it now was than youngsters like Arcene who knew nothing but crumbling cities and empty countryside where people were few and far between and the survival of the whole human race hung in the balance.

  Leel trotted back over, tail down, sad that she had failed to catch anything on her hunt.

  "Never mind, Leel, we'll be home soon and you can eat as much as you want," said Fasolt. Leel perked up, and her eyes glinted with mischief.

  "Uh-oh, you better look out."

  "Haha, I know. She's so cheeky." It was too late, Leel went in for another full face lick. There was nothing to do but go with it — when a dog as large as her decides it wants to lick you there is nothing to do but take your punishment.

  After Leel had finished slobbering over Fasolt he wiped his face and said, "Right, let's pack up and get that monstrosity in the air. And this is the last time, the very last time. Damn thing's a death trap."

  "Home. That sounds nice." Arcene smiled at the thought of wrapping her son tight in her arms. How she'd missed him.

  Pleasant Views

  Arcene broke camp while Fasolt spent a half hour setting the hot air balloon up ready for their journey home. She was about to dig a hole to bury the scraps from their lunch, a habit that ensured no animals were attracted, when she realized that it was rather pointless: they were leaving and there were no scraps — Leel had eaten everything left, including the fish bones.

  After dousing the fire with water, Arcene joined Leel and Fasolt at the base of the balloon. She admired the huge contraption, now fully inflated and pulling at the tethers holding the basket tight to the ground. The last trip had been great fun, partly because of the feeling of freedom, partly because Fasolt had acted like a baby and kept screaming as they rushed through the air like an out-of-control bird. Sometimes Arcene felt she should be scared when she wasn't — that particular emotion seemed to be missing from her genetic makeup.

  Fasolt climbed into the basket reluctantly. "Come on then," he mumbled, scowling as he looked up into the balloon. He turned up the burner so the flames licked high and the whole thing strained at the tethers like it would pull them from the ground at any moment.

  "Okey dokey, let's do it. Go on, Leel, in you get." Leel stared at Arcene as if she were mad. Like she had no idea how to jump and had never seen the basket before in her life. "Come on, don't make me tell you again. You're not scared, are you?" Leel whined and Arcene was sure she nodded her head slightly. "Don't be silly, it's fun. Isn't that right, Fasolt? Fasolt?"

  "Oh, yes, of course, great fun. Come on, Leel, the sooner you get in then the sooner we will be home and you can sleep and eat lots and even have a nice new blanket and a roaring fire too. How does that sound?"

  Woof. Woof woof!

  "There's no need to be like that!"

  "Right, Leel, I'm undoing the ropes, so if you don't jump in you'll be left behind." Arcene unhitched the tethers; Leel stared at her in shock, as if she truly believed she would be left alone. She let out a final bark of protest then stepped/jumped into the basket, the effort so minimal she may as well have simply been walking up a few stairs.

  Stupid dog. She's just acting up because she hasn't seen Fasolt for a while.

  Arcene held onto the basket with one hand, undid the final rope, then hopped in. "Here we go." The excitemen
t built.

  "Ugh, yes, here we go," moaned Fasolt. He turned the burner up full and in seconds they were high in the sky, heading home.

  "Look, there it is," shouted Arcene, ducking as a fat dreadlock whipped at her face like a cat-o-nine-tails. "There, over there. Look!"

  Fasolt turned his attention from staring at his navel, something he'd done ever since they took off, put a hand above his eyes, and peered where Arcene pointed. "It's kind of blurry, but I think maybe I can make it out."

  "Hmm. Guess it does look a bit rubbish from this far away." Arcene watched as the last shimmer of blue disappeared from the top of the castle and then it was gone, lost behind the hills as they traveled away at speed.

  Fasolt turned his attention back to his belly button, and Arcene looked ahead eagerly, willing their transport to move faster, to get her home to her son so she could have her cuddle.

  They were making good time. In only a few hours they had passed several ancient towns and a few large cities, the crumbling remains of skyscrapers and houses always a reminder of what life had once been like.

  It was hard to imagine Fasolt as a grown man over three hundred years ago when everything was pristine. When everyone had a TV and a job, a house of their very own, and the roads were full of cars and trucks, everyone obsessed with money and how to get more of it.

  The old world sounded like an absolute nightmare to Arcene — what could be worse than doing something every day you hated just so you could drive there and back in a vehicle that smelled funny, spending hours sat in queues of traffic? It was absolutely mad.

  Still, she loved hearing the stories of those times, and Fasolt often told her of what it was like. It always felt made-up though, not like it was real, all those people, all those things happening. Where did they all fit? Supermarkets jammed full of food that didn't look like the animal it came from, clogged roads and everyone always busy — it was no wonder Fasolt went bad and ended up nearly destroying what remained of humanity.

  "Hold on, the wind's getting up," warned Fasolt. He ducked to avoid his own hair that had got loose like it alway did and danced in the air like snakes that were very, very angry.

  "It's just a gust, nothing to worry about," said Arcene, smiling at him for being such a baby. Leel whined and leaned heavily against her side, her eyes inches from Arcene's as she sat there panting and looking scared. "You two are such babies, this is fun!"

  "Fun is being on solid ground, not fun is being up in the sky in a balloon when it's windy. Or even when it isn't," added Fasolt.

  "Babies." Arcene let the wind flap at her pigtails, burning orange as the lowering sun caught her silver hair and made it sparkle. She stood on tiptoes so she could revel in the power of nature, let her kilt whip around her thighs, and as she did about fifty times a day she bent her head a little, lifted a leg and admired the pink bunnies stitched up the side of her socks. Cool.

  The wind picked up speed, and with no warning the sky darkened, as if somebody had the sun on a dimmer switch and wanted to make it night prematurely.

  "I think we're in for trouble," said Fasolt. He turned and pointed in the opposite direction to the way they were heading, hair trailing behind him like living streamers.

  Arcene adjusted her position and saw a mass of dark, evil looking clouds bubbling up from nowhere. Flashes of lightning could be seen, but there was no thunder yet, meaning it was well off and might not even come their way at all. She watched as the clouds got denser and darker, huge, puffy menaces like evil mushrooms that would twist your mind and make you believe the sun was a figment of your imagination.

  Gosh, I'm getting a little carried away. They're just clouds, nothing to worry about.

  "It's time to worry. The storm is heading right for us," shrieked Fasolt. Already, it was hard to hear him. The wind was fierce, and the darkness hurtled toward them faster than they could escape.

  Oops, maybe I'm not exaggerating.

  "Get ready, get ready. Hold on tight and whatever you do don't fall out." Fasolt gripped on tight to the basket; Arcene did the same as the first really powerful gust of wind hit and rocked the basket violently.

  Leel whimpered and lay down; Fasolt shrieked like a baby; Arcene smiled into the swirling, elemental force and dared it to do its worst.

  Bad move. Uh-oh.

  "Ugh. Argh, yuck!" Arcene spat out a mouthful of bugs, tiny, brittle and chewy bits stuck in her teeth, a quick flashback to her youth when she had eaten insects on purpose as she was so close to starving — she learned how to hunt and trap animals soon after. Bugs were no way for a child to get strong and survive in an uncaring world.

  Hard pellets rained down onto the balloon canopy, pat, pat, pattering faster and faster, and the wind changed direction, angling down then up, catapulting the swarm of insects right at them, smacking Arcene in the face like a million grains of sand like when she'd once found herself in the middle of an unseasonal storm on a beach at some unnamed town.

  She turned away from the onslaught, picking what appeared to be ladybugs from her hair, out of her nose and mouth. They were even in her ears. Gross! She examined the tiny creatures in the half-light, little black things with red dots, before the basket rocked wildly and the insects were forgotten. She clutched tightly to the wicker rim of the square basket suspended by ropes from a balloon high above the ground, as nature decided to put them firmly in their place and show who was boss.

  Fasolt's hair was out of control. He'd lost his topknot completely now. The meters long dreadlocks flapped wildly, like tattered sails on their airborne ship, hitting her arms and legs, slamming into their faces like evil tentacles, wrapping around the ropes and knotting as their transport lurched this way and that.

  "I'm stuck, untie me, untie me," screamed Fasolt, spitting as he got a mouthful of ladybugs. There was real fear in his eyes, the only time she had seen him genuinely afraid. He fumbled with the caught hair, but the basket was swaying too violently and he had to hold onto the ropes securing the basket so he didn't fall out.

  The wind became a hurricane, gusted past as if to win a race, and more thick dreadlocks were pulled high above Fasolt's head as if an invisible puppet master was making him dance and scream for daring to defy nature — man was to walk the earth, not fly in the air.

  Fasolt's eyes opened wide in terror. He was stuck fast, head close to one of the ropes, hair wrapped tight. Arcene turned and saw a flock of dark specks heading straight for them. Birds.

  "Leel, Leel, don't stand up, stay on the floor." Leel whimpered and tried to hide under her paws, covering her floppy ears and eyes with paws as large as Arcene's head. Arcene kept her grip and ducked down low, the respite from the wind welcome and glorious.

  Everything went silent for a moment, the shelter allowing her to gather her thoughts and breathe without fear of death by bugs.

  The balloon dropped without warning, the wind gone. Her stomach lurched and Fasolt screamed. Leel whimpered and then they were buffeted high, the sudden pressure drop filled with an incredible gale that sent them hurtling skyward, racing the wind as they entered the storm proper.

  Then all hell broke loose as the flock of geese slammed into the balloon canopy and the basket, dull thuds that shook her teeth and sent her clutching at Leel for comfort.

  The basket rocked almost sideways and Arcene slid over to Fasolt's legs, stick thin and hairy. She grabbed at a calf then looked up.

  Ugh, bad move. Stupid willy, stupid bare bum. Arcene averted her gaze — the last thing she wanted was for her final memory before death to be of Fasolt's gross appendage and a goose pecking at her thigh.

  A goose? Arcene gathered her wits as birds slammed into the only transport they had and scrambled backward on all fours as the disheveled bird stared at her with angry orange eyes. Feathers littered the floor, and it glared at her in accusation, as if it was all her fault.

  Lighting flashed, thunder broke the sky, and ahead the sun miraculously shone through, as if the storm had shattered the cloud it c
reated into tiny fragments and orange light bathed them, the white goose feathers gleaming as orange as Arcene's normally silver hair, and as Arcene scrambled to her knees she saw the life-giving orb touch a pointed outcrop far ahead. Was it a mountain? A building? They were too far away to see, the jagged shards of whatever she saw was in silhouette, the perfect orange circle behind the highest point.

  Then it was gone. The storm gathered momentum once more, the goose pecked at her kilt, and nature decided it was time to stop messing about and got serious.

  Stupid Balloon

  The sun was obliterated as night descended with all the grace of a lump of coal clattering down a mineshaft. Everything was black. Black and scary. Lightning flashed every second, highlighting Leel curled up as tight as she could, trying to ignore everything and focus on her whining.

  Fasolt's face was a mask of terror, eyes and teeth shining white, face a rictus of fear as the sky strobed white then black like a nightmare disco. And the peck, peck, pecking of the damn goose as Arcene tried to grab it when the lightning flashed and she could see.

  Finally, she managed to grab it around the neck and with a quick, "Sorry, Mr. Goose," she dropped it over the side. It squawked as the wind sent it sailing down and behind as strong currents eddied around them like a ship lost at sea in a storm.

  They hurtled toward the west and the sinking sun, shining bright for a split-second before it vanished again. For a moment, there was a weird reflection of orange ahead and far below, the ground lit up oddly. It was water, it must have been water. The sea? No, they couldn't have traveled that far, surely? A lake then, or a river?

  It didn't matter. Darkness returned, more terrible than ever, and the wind punched at them as the massive storm from the east finally clutched them tight in its cold and fierce embrace.

  Then silence, a terrible emptiness as the world was sucked away. Again, they dropped, another lurch of the stomach, the only sound the burner as it spluttered then burst to life and shone bright now the flames no longer fought the wind.