TR: 9

Chapter Nine: Man Up, Man Down

The man awoke screaming in the night, face down on the forest floor, naked and cold. The images flashing through his mind were disjointed and nearly senseless, as if he had been cast out of one kind of madness and into another.

The man awoke screaming in the night, finding himself face down on the forest floor, naked and cold. The images flashing through his mind were disjointed and nearly senseless, as if he had been cast out of one kind of madness and into another.

All sense of identity was obscure to him, though he knew that somewhere within the sea of clashing pictures in his mind, he knew who he was. Before he could even collect himself as such, it was purpose that came to him first. He had come back—been sent back–and for a reason. He had been given a chance at redemption after all, and everything that mattered to him was at stake. His mission pieced itself together in his mind once more; at least that much of him could be said to be whole. He feared that the sinking sense of selflessness–and not the altruistic kind–would forever linger and he would be forced to wander this new life never quite believing that anything, himself included, was quite real. But maybe that would help make his task-at-hand more bearable; if nothing else, the impossibility of his charge could be treated as a fever-dream. Failure, then, would be nothing more than waking up.

Wouldn’t it?

But his mind did clear, and his sense of self returned, if not slightly more fragmented than before. Wait, what was before? Better yet, where was it? He seemed to recall there being another place–where he had come from–but it didn’t make any sense. Every time he tried to broach the image in his mind, it was repelled, as if being pushed away magnetically, and then it faded into the obscurity of his subconscious. It was if he wasn’t allowed to access it, for some perverse reason. Whether it was some kind of spell or otherwise, the clarity wouldn’t allow him to dither on it. He now knew that he was trying to convince himself out of a lie: failure was not an option. There was too much at risk. There would be no more death. He refused to let that be the case. If anyone was to die, it would be him. After all, that was why he was back to begin with.

He sat up and rubbed his aching head–a headache like nothing he had ever remembered previously racked through his skull. Was this normal? He couldn’t recall. He forced himself to his feet despite the pain and almost immediately his legs began to shake from the strain of bearing his weight. He gasped and managed to shamble over to the nearest tree, bracing himself against it as he attempted to catch his breath.

By the Thirteen, what had happened to him? Was this even him? Had he been restored in another? There were so many questions and the scant answers he had were fed to him in spoonfuls. It was torturous. Although he couldn’t recall the exact details of his last moments, he had the distinct impression that he had come from much worse. If this was freedom then, he would gladly accept it, even on feeble limbs. But he would grow stronger in time, he would. He must, for they depended on him.

To his surprise, as if thinking about it made it true, he felt a sudden jolt through his lower body, like nerves firing haywire. He frowned down at his trembling, nude form, the moonlight playing distorted shadows across his sinewy muscles; he didn’t recall every having been so…athletic. He gingerly tested his leg by bending it at the knee, back and forth several times. As be braced himself against the tree, he felt a similar rush soar through his shoulders, down his arms and extending out to his fingers. He was fairly certain he didn’t need the tree for support any longer. Testing his theory, he slowly leaned away from the trunk and settled his weight firmly into his own two feet. He stood strong. He looked back and forth between his legs and his hands, astonished, as if seeing his body for the first time. Perhaps it was, he couldn’t be too sure. Somehow, he was rejuvenated. He grinned to himself and jumped up into the air in joy, hollering loudly. If there were enemies around, he didn’t care in that moment.

But something different happened.

What was supposed to have been a mere push from the earth sent him on a vertical journey upwards, sailing high above the trees. In the wan light it was hard to judge how high he was but his best estimates put him at thirty blades or more. He had jumped higher than most buildings! His heart began to race as gravity began to win out over the force of his jump and he reached the apex of his arc, his body’s mass quickly beginning to lose out as he was pulled back down to the earth far below. He watched in horror as the forest floor came quickly back up to meet him and he let out a scream of abject terror as he landed back on his feet, hard. He felt his knees buckle and his shin bones twist in ways he knew they shouldn’t, and he was sure he heard several of his vertebrae cracking as his spine compressed in on itself. Sure enough, his left shin snapped and he felt the bone fragment cut through the flesh there, resulting in a nasty compound fracture.

He fell on to his side, his body aching in places he didn’t even know it could. He could feel his own blood seeping beneath him out of the wound in his leg and he howled at the moon like the dying animal he was. He hadn’t been alive five minutes and now he had gotten himself, very likely, killed once more. He had let more than himself down; he would never have another chance at redemption again. They would never allow it. It had been hard enough pleading his case the first time. This utter embarrassment, it would spell the end for him. The True end. If Truth could even be found for one like him.

No. He couldn’t let them down again. Never again.

He steeled himself and a voice in his head (was it his own?) told him to own the pain.

Own the pain? What did that mean?

He didn’t care. He did what it said. And by the count of three, it was all but gone. His eyes opened wide and his gaze snapped down to his profusely bleeding leg. He felt nothing, despite the gruesome sight that lay before him. Nor did his spine feel like it had been shattered any more. There was literally…no feeling at all.

Had he done that?

He stared at the wound in his leg, better able to focus now that the pain was but a distant memory. He imagined the bones realigning and that was what they did. He imagined them fusing and forming new osteoblasts–new bone fortifications—and that’s what happened. He imagined the same thing to all of the other injuries in his body–his spine, his ribs, his right arm–and he envisioned himself standing once more, stronger than ever before. And he did, and he was.

The man stood naked and whole once more, speechless in the profound magnitude of his own silence mixed in with that of the forest surrounding him.

Was he some kind of…magician?

No, that couldn’t be right. Magick had been banned, he remembered that much. And he had never been a part of…of…that lot. He had shunned them once, in fact. It was clear in his mind, his prior hatred for the gifted. And he had good reason to. They had taken everything from him once. But now… all of his previous misgivings and emotions were displaced, and all he felt was a tantalizing power coursing through his veins. He didn’t know if he was indestructible, probably wasn’t, but he felt it, and that was a defining fact. He erupted in laughter, raising his face to the night sky and he bellowed with glee at his newfound powers. Maybe, just maybe, he had a fighting chance after all.

He felt a tingle in his groin and he looked down in confusion to find his genitals nearly shrivelled in the cold of the night. During his self-righteous distraction, he hadn’t noticed that feeling in his body had returned, and it was trying to tell him something: before he could conquer anything, first he would need clothes.

He looked around and all he could see were the dark shapes of trees, trees, and more trees. The air quality told him it was likely sometime between the months of Bandell or perhaps as late as Sorello, though Rynn’s winters had been growing longer as of late… He glanced up at the two moons high in the sky. One was but a crescent and the other somewhere between gibbous and half; not nearly enough light in itself to guide him anywhere. He would need some kind of visual aid.

Then he got an idea.

He could jump impossibly high, reconstitute his musculature and, apparently, heal himself while completely negating pain. Did he have other powers beyond that?

He held out his hand in front of him, palm facing up to the night sky, and he imagined a light source within his hand. He gasped as he watched a small spark erupt in the space just above his flesh, and then another and another as if some unseen hand were attempting to stoke a flame there. His heart racing, he threw all of his attention into the thought of feeding a flame in that place. For some reason, the thought of red permeated his mind. He didn’t quite know why.

But it worked. After several seconds of meditation and many sparks later, a small orb of light emerged, floating above the center of his palm. It was wan but it was enough to see by. He laughed at his triumph but stopped mid-cackle as he noticed something odd: the orb of light, it felt like…a part of him. As if it were an appendage, or some kind of physical extension. He wondered what that could possibly mean. If that were true, then…

He imagined himself growing large, double, triple, quadruple his size. Growing and growing until he was twice again as tall as the tallest tree. He saw himself sailing upwards into the night, this time with his feet still firmly planted safely on the earth, and that was when he realized his plot had worked: the light grew with him. Or rather, it grew because of him. Now, he held on to a significant ball of light, roughly the size of a man’s head and casting a considerable field of view all around him. It would be hard for him to get lost in that radiant glow.

He smiled to himself and headed down a path that had revealed itself not too far in the distance.

Time to find something suitable for a master to wear.

***

Brian stood on the edge of the embankment, overlooking a small pasture with a quaint stream running through the middle. He listened carefully, inspecting for Kade’s reports, but the only sounds around were birds singing and insects buzzing. Several jeule grazed in the distance near the forest edge, and seemed undisturbed by Brian’s presence. This told him that they probably didn’t get too many humans in these parts, given the fear of Man hadn’t been instilled into them. Jeule, pronounced jee-ool, were a close relative of the deer, if not slightly smaller with white stripes running down their flanks. They were also good eating, like their near cousins, but a good lot tougher to hunt as they spooked easier. Thinking of spooking made Brian wonder what had happened to Kade. Obviously something had set him off but Brian hadn’t been able to help him from above; all he could do was stop and listen as Kade’s voice disappeared into obscurity.

Some friend Brian turned out to be.

And he was just as poor a navigator, apparently, as he too had found himself lost in a woods he knew little-to-nothing about. Though the heartwoods were vast, Brian had circumnavigated through enough of them growing up that he could usually find his way around or, if not eventually, locate a marker that put him onto a path he knew. In this case, though, he didn’t recognize anything around him. Looking up at the sky above, he was thankful that that much was familiar, but it wasn’t much of a guide in the daytime. While he realized he should be thankful that the approaching night would offer such way points to guide him, the trade-off was being in an unfamiliar forest at night.

And that was when all the nasty things came out. 

Brian wiped the sweat from his brow and hopped down the rock ledges that made up the embankment. At bottom, he walked over to the stream and splashed water on his face. He pulled out a flask from his back pocket and, taking a moment to consider his next move, emptied the brown liquid contained within, taking into account the further dehydrating effects of alcohol.

“I hope you’re celebrating something. That was Finnessine twenty-five year.” He said to the ground with a note of aggravation in his voice.

He sighed and turned the flask over in his hand. On its face there was a circular display and he ran his finger over it, calling up a menu. He punched a command and the display turned to NAN0-FILTER MODE. Brian dipped the flask in the water and swirled it around as the water trickled down into it, repeating several times until it was full. He squatted down and drank deeply from the flask. Between sips, he glanced around the clearing as he contemplated his surroundings. It appeared that the jeule had taken off when he hadn’t been paying attention, probably scared off during his descent down the embankment.

Guess they had boundaries after all.

His attention settled on his reflection in the stream before him and he stared at the muddled image of himself as the water coursed gently by. Suddenly, a tall figure clad only in black appeared behind him, looming over him. Brian gasped and span around, losing his balance and falling onto his rear. No one was there. He jerked his gaze around but it was open clearing all around with nowhere for his would-be assailant to hide. Had he imagined it then? With a last wary look back at the stream and a final swig from his flask, he stoppered the item and made his way across the clearing, following alongside the stream which led back into the thick of the forest. His hope was that it would lead him to its source, an aquifer or the likes, and that it would renew his bearings. As he walked, three jeule flicked their ears nervously as they watched Brian from just behind the treeline, wondering vaguely what purpose a strange creature had in such a place.

***

The forest was growing dark and very little light filtered through the dense canopy above. Brian walked on along through a layer of dead leaves and pine needles, no path having yet revealed itself. The river had tapered some time back, revealing itself to be the tail end of some glacial runoff from a small mountain which was too steep to climb. When Brian came upon the rocky face, his first instinct was to turn back, but one did not get un-lost by returning to where they were lost to begin with, so that left one choice: to find another way up. Determined to push on, Brian began a slow trek around the base of the mountain, in the hopes that there was a marked trail ahead leading upward. He didn’t recognize the geography of the area but he hoped that with a high-enough vantage point, as would be afforded by the mountain, he could easily place himself once there. 

As he wend his way around the mountain’s base, Brian began to notice that the forest was beginning to look…different. At first, he couldn’t quite place what it was but then it occurred to him that it was the colouration that seemed off, like someone had turned a knob and desaturated the area of much of its hue. He wasn’t sure if it was his eyes playing games or not but it seemed that the further into the woods he went the more the forest became monochromatic. He stopped and took note of the time: early evening, probably the fifth hour or thereabouts.

“Probably just the light playing tricks.” 

He shrugged it off and continued on.

But things only continued to get stranger. Another hour passed, the light fading gradually, and that was when Brian noticed that he was surrounded not only by a lack of colour but also a lack of sound. It was if all the wildlife had ceased to exist suddenly. He couldn’t remember the last time he had heard a bird sing or seen a squirrel run up a tree. Was it five minutes ago? Fifteen? An hour? How long had he been walking now? His thoughts escaped him. Surely, twilight was a very active time for forest life. Something was definitely going on. 

But what?

Brian began to grow lethargic and tired and he took a moment to catch his breath. Somehow, fatigue had crept up on him like an invisible hammer and struck him at once. What was happening to him? It hadn’t even been a day since he last slept, and he generally slept well, so it didn’t make any sense that he should feel this way. Was he coming down with something? He told himself he had better check.

He sauntered over to the nearest tree and slumped against it, struggling to lift his arm enough to bring his watch to eye level. He fumbled with a dial on the side of the device and he pulled up an app called HealthChekNano. Confirming his intentions, the watch administered a minuscule prick to his flesh, barely detectable, as it injected three-trillion nanites into his bloodstream. In but minutes, they would return to the device with a complete diagnostic profile of his system, as was there sole programming. Until that point, he took it upon himself to rest at the base of the tree.

Until a horrific noise jolted him out of his trance.

He jerked awake as a panicked squeal cut through the woods, somewhere in the near vicinity. It sounded like someone–or something–crying for help. It was the first sound he could recall hearing in sometime and, though it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, he gladly welcomed the change from the looming sense of purgatory that had descended on him. He got to his feet and stumbled along through the woods, his head feeling like it was filled with cotton batten and his vision little better. After meandering from tree to tree for a time, he caught a glimpse of something thrashing around frantically, hanging from what looked like a cord looped around a low-lying bough of a tree.

Approaching the scene, Brian discovered a small grey rabbit caught in a snare. The small animal squealed furiously when it saw Brian and began to writhe desperately in fear of its life. Brian stopped near the base of the tree and looked up at the wriggling bunny, feeling pity for the poor creature. He followed the trunk of the tree to the end of the bough where it was snared and considered helping it but, in his current state, he knew he wouldn’t get too far up that slick trunk before he just fell and cracked his skull and then he wouldn’t be helping anyone ever again. He looked at the animal and sighed.

“Sorry buddy, wish I could help you but I’m a little landlocked at the moment. Hopefully, you can chew your way out of this one.”

Brian moved on, in search of greener pastures. It wasn’t ten steps later that the rabbit pealed again, this time sounding all the more desperate, as if pleading for him to return and help. Brian stopped and considered the notion. He thought back to his time in the basement at Falkner’s, how it felt to be trapped all alone with no idea of what was to come next, fearing the worst. He remembered the exhilarating feeling of escape and how the doors of life were once again opened to him. An immense feeling of guilt came over him; how could his own self-importance supersede something’s life? Life was everything–the only thing–and he was about to condemn a helpless animal to a life, literally, of nothing. How long did rabbits even live? It couldn’t have been long. Even if he freed the thing and it got another week before it was eaten by a hawk or a fox, well…maybe a week was like twenty years to an animal like that. Or maybe it never got eaten and lived out its entire natural life. What would that be like to miss? Brian wondered what he would say to someone if he knew they had bought him even another year of life, facing the same situation as his furry friend.

The answer seemed obvious.

Brian returned to the trap and stood under the hanging animal, looking up at it with newfound compassion. The rabbit just hung there, staring at him as it twitched its nose excessively, its chest rising and falling in rapid motion. Apparently, it had either gotten tired of resisting or it was relieved that Brian had decided to take the high road. Or maybe it was just paralyzed in fear, figuring Brian was about to eat it. 

Brian liked the more noble story so he told himself that one.

“Good thing you’re so darn cute. I bet you talk yourself out of lots of sticky situations, huh?” 

Brian chuckled and walked under the snare. The rabbit was too high to reach but maybe if he could find a stick long enough… Brian’s thoughts were disrupted as he noticed the texture of the earth change beneath him. It was…spongy. He hefted his weight up and down gently as he tested the strange elasticity of the spot on which he stood, his body visibly moving up and down from the force as if it were on a trampoline.

“Huh. Weird.”

He made a move to turn and leave and…

Brian heard a snapping sound beneath him and  found himself sailing upward into the air, upended as his feet were pulled violently from under him. A second later he was hanging upside-down from another bough of the tree, his feet ensnared in the same manner as the rabbit which was only several arm’s reaches away now. Brian’s heart raced and he bent over, attempting to cut through his tether but the fatigue quickly set in again, reminding him he was in no physical position to try and maneuver his way out of this one. There was a chime and he held his watch up to his face, the diagnostic having come back with an all-clear. According to his device, he was completely fine. Brian grunted and glanced over at the rabbit, hanging just out of arm’s reach, its little nose twitching non-stop. 

“Well. So much for altruism.”

***

All was silent in the banquet hall. The adults, the children, even the yappy little dog had gone to bed. Water dripped from the roof of the drainage pipe and fell onto Kade’s nose, startling him awake. A second or two passed and he remembered where he was, his leavened pulse beginning to even out. As silent as an assassin, he let himself out of the pipe, closing the grate behind him with a nearly inaudible clank as he entered the main sewage conduit. He crouched down and scuttled over to the grate at the other end, pulling himself up gingerly, peering through to the other side. What had, hours before, been a raucous display of light and sound was now all but dark and silent. It was almost…peaceful, in a way, despite the fact that Kade was still far out of his element. He glanced around the hall, trying to plot a due course but, save a few lanterns bracketed into a wall here and there, his trip out of the main hall appeared as if it was going to be a near-blind one. Kade found himself wishing for his Holomate once more; it could easily chart a route out of the place for him and at the same time pull up a night vision display for him to follow. Alas, civilization had somehow survived over ten thousand years, without getting past the hurdle of batteries.

Go figure.

Kade sighed and his gaze meandered to the cloistered walks above. Maybe there he could find a safer passage out? After all, wasn’t he far underground anyhow? Didn’t it make more sense to get to high ground as soon as possible? But there was a problem that Kade could see: even though it appeared the trellises spanning the wall went high enough to connect to the first level, there was no telling how sturdy they were. And that was a high fall. He wouldn’t be getting very far with a broken neck. Ground level it was. Kade’s only hope was that, in his bumbling blindness, he didn’t stumble into a sentry, guard or, well, whatever gnomes had. So far, he hadn’t seen anyone around but it paid to be wary. He had already learned that lesson a handful of times over, just in the last few days. 

He leaned his weight against the gate and it opened without a fuss, though the old metal creaked a tad louder than Kade had hoped. He eased the gate shut on the other side and crouched behind a nearby a tall vase at the perimeter of the wall. Peeking his head over the brim, he noticed the thing was entirely filled with dirt to support the swathe of various species of mushrooms planted within. It was a strange piece, where one should expect a plant, but somehow it was almost artistically charming in its own way.  He scanned the hall once more, gathering his bearings before he made too bold a move. It appeared that everyone had gone to bed, leaving behind nothing but heaps and heaps of dirty dishes and food scraps atop the tables and scattered about the floors.

Apparently, gnomes were slobs.

Kade made his way along the stone floor, crouched down as to minimize his visibility. He found several doors lining the walls of the hall but time and again they appeared to be only larders or cellars. If there was one thing Kade had already learned it was that gnomes took dining seriously. It was a wonder he had yet to see a fat one. He also began to wonder if the room even had an exit. Of course it had to; how else did everyone get in and out? And then, he finally saw it: a main set of large double doors, firmly closed and, he could only hope was the case on the other side, unguarded. He made his way around the perimeter of the room toward the doors, dashing in and out behind tables, chairs, plants–whatever he could use for cover. As he moved, he noticed the only lighting in the room came from the same strange glowing stones as were in the surface tunnels, inset into the walls in brackets at regular intervals. In that wan light, he made it to the doors and, with what he hoped wasn’t a final sigh, he grabbed the mushroom knob and slowly pushed them open.

On the other side the halls were silent. No guards, no gnomes–nothing. It was then that Kade realized he may have made a presumption in assuming that the gnomes should have guarded their city. If one really thought about it, it made sense that they never got too many outsiders, let alone intruders. Their habitat wasn’t exactly…accessible. Kade’s mood lifted a little at the thought that, perhaps, he would be able to move freely after all. At least, as freely as one could in the hopes of not being seen. And that wasn’t really that free at all. Regardless, Kade took careful measures not to make any overt sounds and he continued to keep low to the ground to minimize his profile. It appeared that the main hall opened up into living quarters, given that the multitude of doors, spaced at regular intervals, each had their own plaque beside them bearing a family name. Well, to the best of Kade’s deductive abilities, they appeared to be names. He couldn’t quite tell. He walks up to one of the tarnished plaques and leaned close to it as he tried to make out the word there.

“Thirteen, who are these guys? Chemicals?” Kade said under his breath. “Who the hell has such long names? How do you even say that…three Ys…who even does that?”

Kade frowned and shook his head as he gave up deciphering the riddle of gnome surnames, moving on down the hall. As he walked, he noticed clumps of mushrooms often grew where floor met wall. The things were bloody everywhere in the town. One such patch stuck out bright red with pox-riddled spots covering their wide-brimmed caps. Kade recognized that one from his home town: the fly agaric. Very poisonous, nasty that. Though he had recalled one of his friends telling him some people brewed them down into hallucinogenic teas. Somehow, the cost-benefits of potentially dying for a trip had never weighed favourably in his mind, so he let them lie. Maybe the gnomes picked them, used them? Kade snickered at the thought of a fat little gnome gorged on psychedelic mushrooms, running into walls as he rambled nonsense.

The hall itself was hewn straight out of the bedrock like the main hall, wooden beams grafted into the rock as the scaffolding reinforced the oppressive weight from above. Mushrooms grew there too, though Kade was beginning to become immune to their ubiquity. He tried not to think what happened in such a place when an earthquake went off. Luckily, not many of those happened on the coast as the plate boundaries weren’t anywhere near…

Kade had to stop his thought process as he remembered that he wasn’t on the coast any longer. In fact, Kade knew very little about his current location, gnome city, geographical region and province all. He was in the dark in more ways than one. Recalling how he had just been thrust into this strange new world, and now in a city full of mythical little people, Kade felt like he was in a fairy tale; trudging through a forbidden dungeon on a quest for a stolen treasure, mushrooms everywhere… Well, really he was just stealing back a stolen good, but that didn’t sound as good in his mind. Thinking about the talisman got Kade wondering why he even felt so attached to the thing in the first place. After all, he didn’t even know what it was–what it did, if anything. Why then did it matter so much to him? No, he had seen something in it–in its centerpiece. Whatever that stone was it…it had shown him something. Though he didn’t know exactly what it was he had seen, it was if some part of him did know, and that both scared and intrigued him. If anything, he needed to get it back so he could get answers. He knew a couple people back home who could probably make sense of it or, in the least, know where to point him.

Lost in his reverie, Kade hadn’t realized that he had wandered aimlessly into a network of halls, branching out in every direction. He stopped, glancing around as he realized that by becoming lost in thought he had become lost in space as well. Every hall looked the same, with the rows of doors and presumed residences–sleeping bodies behind them. Kade’s best guess was that they weren’t going to be too helpful if he woke them to ask for directions. He silently cursed himself for being so foolish. But self-deprecation wouldn’t get him out of his mess so he turned his attention to problem-solving.

“Okay, so if I were a stolen talisman in a gnome city, where would I be? Hmm…Depends on whether or not that little snot decided to keep it or not, I guess. Let’s assume he didn’t, since I have no idea what his name is and wouldn’t be able to find him that way anyhow…So that means he’d, what…sell it maybe? Where do gnomes sell things? Do they have, like, a market? A gnome curiosity shop? Argh, there are too many options, I’m not getting anywhere!” 

Kade groaned and slid down against the wall until he was sitting in the hall.

“If only they had a directory or a map…”

Kade trailed off as he realized what his next move should be.

“Wait…I have a map!”

He reached into his bag and pulled out his Holomate. Luckily, the manufacturer had the foresight to make it waterproof, among all of its other many functions, so his foray into the lake hadn’t affected it to the best of his assessment.

“A dead one, but a map nonetheless. I need power then.”

Kade looked around but realized for the first time that he hadn’t recalled seeing any kind of charging receptacles, outlets or induction plates; only those weird glowing stones. And there was no sign of connectivity to them, as best as Kade could tell. Did gnomes even have electricity? Kade’s heart began to hasten at the thought of being stuck in such a primitive prison.

Before he could complain further, he heard a squeak as a door opened somewhere nearby. Kade scrambled to his feet and frantically searched for a place to hide. The hall was bereft of any furniture save a potted plant here and there and, given the gnomes’ stature, the plants were to scale and were thus little higher than Kade’s waist. In the light of the glowing stones, Kade would undoubtedly be seen, which meant he needed to get out of there–fast. He turned to run down the hall but stopped when a distant coughing spat gave him pause. The person sounded like they were heading the other way from him. Kade took a moment to consider the risk and decided to gamble. He turned back and crept up to the area where he had heard the door opening. Sure enough, he made out a small figure just as they rounded a corner, clad in pajamas. Likely on their way, presumably, to the nearest washroom. Or whatever it was gnomes used. Kade glanced over at the plaque beside a slightly-ajar door and the name there was just as unintelligible as the rest. He shouldered the door open and crouched down as he ducked under the low-hanging door frame, entering the room.

Inside, the room was as plain as one would expect from a cren, if not a messy one. A single glowing stone light in a small recess in the wall revealed pieces of miniature paper scattered all over the floor, many of which with scrawling on them. Was this gnome a writer, perhaps? There wasn’t much to speak of in the way of furniture, other than a small desk and a bed with a mushroom-shaped headboard. What was it with gnomes and mushrooms? It was like they were part of some strange cult. Was mushroom worship even a thing? Kade shrugged and walked into the room, taking note of the absence of knickknacks on the shelves and stands. In addition to being fungiphiles, gnomes appears to be minimalists. Luckily for him, the gnome appeared to live alone, but that didn’t stop Kade from working quickly as he began to scour the room for any kind of battery pack or device with which to charge his own. He rifled through drawers and dressers but there didn’t appear to be even anything even as sophisticated as a nail file, nor were there any indications of outlets or receptacles built into the wall. Kade only hoped this one gnome was some kind of Luddite and it wasn’t a trend among them; if he couldn’t find a way to charge his device then it was entirely possible he’d be stuck underground forever. Or until he was caught, whichever came first. Kade cursed as he leaned against the undersized bureau against the wall, craning his neck to see if he could make out a hidden outlet behind. As he did so, a sound came from the hall just outside the room.

The door to the room opened and a small figure stepped into the dark hollow.

“Huh? I thought I closed you.”

The small man peered around the room as suspiciously as a half-asleep gnome could but nothing seemed out of sorts. He shrugged and yawned loudly, making his way back to his bed. 

After about fifteen minutes, the man was out cold, snoring loudly. Kade pulled himself out from under the cramped bed, doing his best to stifle the groan that begged to escape his throat. He scampered across the floor and looked back over his shoulder to ensure he hadn’t been detected. The little lump under the covers moved up and down at a gentle pace as the snoring cut through the silence at leisurely intervals. It seemed that the gnome had fallen asleep facing the wall so Kade was in the clear. Silent as a gnome mouse, Kade got to his feet and made his way toward the door. He turned the handle and the door creaked open on its hinges, giving Kade a terrifying pause. The sleeper didn’t seem to notice and snored on. Kade sighed a breath of relief and made a move toward the hall. Before he could leave the room he noticed a cork board on the wall to the right of the door, on which there were several things pinned. One was a poster of a gnome woman with a lipstick kiss on it, which Kade found mildly humorous. But it was the piece beneath that which really caught his eye: it was a brochure advertising a gnome city, as unpronounceable as every other gnome word he had seen. Oddly enough, opening the brochure and leafing through it, it appeared to be a different city than the one they were in. Gnomes had multiple cities? Who knew. Kade was considering replacing the brochure but a graphic on one of the pages caught his eye before he could do so; it was a map of one of the cities, Vvbglhyartsendthyynishallenousrgtapsl. There were four levels in total, including a sub-floor–basement, perhaps–and he recognized the hall on the 2nd: it was the banquet hall he had just come from. This was a map for the very city he was in. And while it wasn’t incredibly detailed, it was better than what he had.

He had found a map after all!

Good ole analog. He thought to himself as he pocketed the brochure and let himself quietly out of the room.

***

Kade followed the directions laid out on the map until he came to a large vestibule which, according to the map, had some kind of directory contained within it. While Kade understood the risks of entering into a main area, he still hadn’t seen any indication of patrols or regular foot traffic. Either the entire town had gone to bed, including the patrols or there were no patrols to begin with. At least, that was his hope. He emerged through an impressive archway which led into a semi-circular marble gallery, surrounding a massive courtyard. Immediately he was struck with an array of bright glowing, multi coloured lights and he marvelled at the site before him. Giant, looming mushrooms stood like solitary sentinels within the partitions of the courtyard, gleaming fluorescent structures. Some were taller than a house and the ones that had clumped together formed their own arch-like structures. While the gallery itself was the primary feature of the room, the mushrooms themselves formed a connectivity above whereupon one could easily hop or walk to adjacent caps, like a canopy of sorts. In fact, as many of the giant fungi boarded the walkways above, it looked as if some of the mushrooms had been carved out, staircases formed into them to lead upward to the manmade (or rather gnome made) paths which they skirted. And oh, the colours of it all! Bright ebbing purples and electric blues; some were only two or three colours but the limited palette was no less astounding as sun fire yellows and oranges or glowing alien greens ebbed against ebony or ivory flesh. Kade hade never seen anything like it. Never heard of anything like it. He traced the gallery with his eyes, seeing that it ran around the perimeter of the area, colonnades supporting the level above it and others supporting the rough-hewn bedrock above that. It was laid out in a radial fashion with spoke-like sections set at intervals around the courtyard, connecting to a central hub in the center of the yard which housed the largest mushroom of them all—a great, glowing, green king bolete. Part of its base had been hollowed out to form a passage—some kind of garden or viewing area—though Kade couldn’t be sure in the dim light of the glowing stones embedded into the columns and stonework surrounding it. Kade wondered why a gnome would need so much space. Had they even built the place? If so, what purpose did it serve? Some kind of shrine, perhaps? He looked down at his map but the language was nonsensical. If there were any kind of charging stations nearby, he’d have to route them out himself.

He made his way down cold steps as he came into one of the many grassy segments circumscribed by the gallery arms. He walked up to the base of one of the large mushrooms, staring up its massive stipe to the glowing, speckled underside of its eave-like cap. He knocked on the trunk and it was surprisingly solid, not soft or squishy as one would have expected. Kade continued onward toward the central mushroom, noticing that the structure underneath was more like a gazebo. The stone path broadened out into a platform and in the center, square in the middle of the great mushroom above, was a small wishing pool, glittering coins littered all over its bottom. A small stone fountain in the depiction of a gnome pouring water from a vase stood in the center. It reminded Kade of the strange reflecting pool back at the gym. A growing sense of unease crept back into him at the thought of more misadventure.

Well, more misadventure than he had already gotten into, that is to say.

Kade looked around the room but there was no sign of a receptacle, only a few small stone benches and manicured trees in miniature. Hiding in recessed carved around the vestibule, Kade could make out large statues of figures he didn’t recognize, resting upon plinths built into the arches themselves.

The Old Gods, maybe?

Kade realized then that there was an astounding gap in his knowledge of gnomes. Not only did he not know anything about their religion or beliefs, he had no idea what they did for fun, what kind of food they ate…nothing. And those glowing stones… It was just mystery after mystery. And, according to his new friend, gnomes were only one of many folk around. This only further made Kade feel like he was entirely out of the loop, like the only two things he really knew were mechs and Up. Maybe that was all he really knew.

Looking over the statuettes, Kade gasped as his eye caught something he had missed out in the courtyard; natural moonlight poured in from above, basking the area in a sheen of soft white light. He stepped back out onto the path, out the obscurity of the central mushroom and stared up at the rock ceiling to find a giant oculus in the center of the cavern, revealing a star-spangled sky high above. Kade realized that there must have been cloud cover when he had first come in, explaining why he hadn’t noticed it at first. Amazingly, the gnomes had, somehow, drilled a perfectly-round hole from the surface down to city. For the first time, Kade had a reference for how far down he had gone, and it was far. How far, he couldn’t say exactly, but his best guess was the tunnel leading upward had to have been nearly a leave below ground. Had he really fallen that far? That growing sense of claustrophobia nagged at him again. Yet, the hole offered a marvelous juxtaposition: an underground world with a view of the night sky. It was almost poetic. Kade found himself slightly at ease staring up at the familiar bluey-black swathe above, even if there was a huge section of earth dividing them. In fortuitous timing, the remaining clouds began to clear and the second of the two moons—Kade couldn’t be sure which was which from his position–illuminated the entire inner sanctum in a magnified wash of white, as if sanctifying everything that it touched. Kade wondered if the colonists were looking down at him in that same moment, whether their extra-planetary lives afforded them the time to do things like stargaze. Surely, they had the technology to count the fat folds on a tardigrade, so it wouldn’t be a question of ability. Oh, how Rynn must look from outer space! The thought was almost unfathomable to Kade, despite his wildfire imagination.  

Kade took in a deep breath of fresh air and felt the moist night dew on his face. He smiled a true smile for the first time in days and thought about his friend.  Had he found his way through the forest alright? Kade hoped that he hadn’t stuck around to try and help him. That would be crazy, considering he didn’t even know him. Thinking of finding one’s way reminded Kade why he had come to the area to begin with. He pulled out the brochure that he had ‘borrowed’ from the sleeping gnome and double-checked its legend. Yep, there was definitely supposed to be a directory, or something like it, in the very spot that he stood. But where was it? There was only that fountain and those creepy statues; no sign of any kind of electronic device whatsoever. Glossing over the map, Kade realized that the gnome city–however the name was pronounced–was a lot larger than he had originally thought. The brochure pulled out into a multi-fold spread of the city and, judging by the scale of it, Kade hadn’t even seen ten percent of it on his trek. He scratched his head, wondering how he would ever find the gnome he was after and retrieve his talisman. He massaged his forehead as a headache crept on him, trying to fathom a way out of his current mess.

All of a sudden, a soft sound filled the air, breaking his concentration. Curiosity getting the best of him, Kade wandered out into one of the courtyards, following the sound until it led him to one of the glowing mushroom structures. He looked up in astonishment to find a small man sitting on the the edge of a flat-topped ‘shroom, about as high as a school bus, playing a small  flute. The song he played sounded akin to a folk song Kade had once heard but he couldn’t recall the name. He stood there awkwardly, not knowing whether to run or to pay heed to this strange musician. As if on cue to Kade’s thoughts, the tone came to a cadence and a last note drifted off into the air like a willow wisp in the wind. The small man lowered his instrument and glanced down at Kade, his expression unreadable in the dim light.

There were no two ways about it:

Kade was caught gnome-handed.

***

Brian sawed through the last tine of the net with his jackknife and fell through the ragged gap in the mesh. He yelped from the sudden motion of falling downward but managed to get a hold of a section of the net before falling the seven-or-so blades to the forest floor below. Hanging by one arm he stared down at the ground, assessing the distance. It was risky, to be sure, though if he could get into a roll… The tree trunk was too far away to grab on to and even if he could it was too thick to shimmy down. And that fatigue, growing stronger by the minute… No, acrobatics were out of the question. That left one option. He looked over at the rabbit, now hanging limply in defeat, its little nose twitching rapidly.

“Well buddy, wish me luck.” 

Brian let go of the net and kicked his legs out, trying to throw his weight forward in attempt to gain momentum for his roll. As he hit the ground, Brian realized immediately that he hadn’t gotten enough force behind his kip. His ankle strained as his body weight bared down on it with the added pressure of gravity and he shouted in pain as he tucked into a half-roll, distracted by the sharp lightning coursing through his lower body. He rolled several blades over a soggy layer of leaves until he came to a stop, holding his ankle as he squinted in pain. After a minute the pain subsided some and he attempted to stand. Standing hurt, but he could walk, if not with a limp, so that was something. He limped back over to the tree and leaned against it as he focused his mind away from the screaming pain of his ankle rebuking him for making it take his full weight. At least the pain detracted from the nagging sleepiness that pulled at him.

Then the tree moved.

Not as if it were alive and shifting, but as if the world had shifted around it. And then again. And again. Were those…

Footsteps?

Brian leaned out and peered around the other side of the tree. Far in the distance, Brian could make out a large shape emerging out of the thin sheen of fog that had settled into the woods. It was bipedal and shaped like a human but it couldn’t be cren; no cren’s head grazed the underside of treetops. 

An ogre. That’s the only thing it could be. Brian hadn’t ever heard of them coming this far down from the mountains but there it was. He cursed under his breath and pulled himself back behind the tree.

“Of course it’s a bloody ogre. The trap…how did I not see it before?”

Brian tested his weight on his ankle and the pain told him he wasn’t running anywhere. He looked around and the only thing near him were the pines themselves, which meant that Brian was going back up. He shambled away from the tree, the footsteps growing louder and more forceful, until he came to a tree several paces away from the one with the snare. This one was younger and had a smaller circumference, hopefully, not too wide to shimmy up. He wrapped his arms and legs around it and began to pull himself up the tree, pinch by pinch, despite his ankle’s nagging argument to the contrary. It took him nearly two minutes to get to the first sizable bough but he made it and pulled himself into the nook that it formed with two others adjacent to it. Luckily, the branches were on the far side of the tree, facing away from the one across from it–the one with the snared rabbit. 

As the figure emerged out of the fog, a sound came within earshot: a rude excuse for singing, in a most wretched, tone-deaf voice. The ogre ‘sang’ to itself as it lumbered toward the base of the tree where the rabbit hung, the poor animal thrashing about once more as it became aware of the impending danger. Its features came into view bit by bit as it neared Brian’s location, the most salient of which was its height; the beast stood, perhaps, five blades tall and was as large around its midsection as small automobile. In one arm, in stereotypical fashion, it carried an enormous wooden club with a sharp stone wedged through one end, which told Brian it was probably makeshift. It dragged the weapon behind it, leaving a shallow trench in the dirt behind it. It was a hideous thing: unshaven and overweight, though its arms rippled with overdeveloped muscle, most likely from swinging the monstrous club around, Brian guessed. It wore tattered, threadbare garments with stains and dirty blotches all over it, the origin of which Brian did not wish to know. Even its skin was filthy and Brian had never seen such repulsive feet in his life; cracked and yellow nails on toes so crooked and misshapen that they could barely qualify as appendages. The face was horribly deformed, one side of its head suffering a protruding bony bulge, as if its skull had been partially rend in two. The deformity offset its face so that one eye was greatly enlarged eye and rendered the bridge of its nose a twisted mess of cartilage. The hair on its head was barely that; burnt grass on a field of flesh. Its gait was laboured and the ample fat around its midsection caused it to hunker over somewhat, further adding to the awkwardness of its movements.

Brian felt sick just from looking at the thing.

The footsteps stopped as the ogre reached the base of the snare, staring up at the rabbit with a greedy look in its mutated eye. It smiled at the animal, dangling but an arm’s reach away from the huge monster, revealing a mouth divested of all but a handful of disgusting, rotten teeth. 

“Wells me pretty, seems that ye’v got little choices of what’s to be doin’ about it, I am.”

The ogre’s voice was deep and coarse, like a basso profundo singing with a mouthful of sand. It turned and looked at the tattered snare that had held Brian only moments before and it scratched its head in thought, grunting as if thinking hurt. Maybe it did. It looked over at the rabbit with a look caught somewhere between disappointment and excitement.

“Looksee that yer friend goes lucky luck more than ye’s, hmm. Well then, eat’ns fer two you do. Appie-tizer and my, uh…one afters, I do.”

It giggled with glee as it reached up to the snare, its chin fat rippling from the laughter. It plucked the line off of the branch as if it were dental floss and it held the flailing rabbit above its face, observing it with a sadistic smile. It grabbed the creature in its massive hand, the rabbit’s eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets from the immense pressure of its grip, frantic last-ditch squeals pealing out through the woods. Brian felt bad for the poor creature but he wasn’t about to expose himself to that thing. His only hope was that he could be silent enough–and the ogre was stupid enough–for him to sneak away. The ogre laughed uproariously, its belly jiggling like a bowl of putrid jello, and it shoved the bunny into its mouth. There was a horrible crunching sound, followed by a spray of blood across the ogre’s torso, and a final squeal penetrated out of the ogre’s mouth before it clamped down to eat. Brian gagged and had to hold back a gasp/vomit which was only partially successful, tasting upchuck in his mouth. The ogre turned toward the sound and Brian quickly jerked behind the shelter of the tree, praying to the Thirteen that the thing hadn’t seen him.

The ogre leered in Brian’s direction chewing relentlessly as dark purple blood dribbled from the corners of its mouth and down to its warty chin. A straggling rabbit leg stuck out of its mouth and the beast slurped it up as one would a spaghetti noodle. When the ogre finished, it smiled with stained teeth and patted its gut.

“Ye’v gotten a good home now, pretty.”

It laughed its horrid laugh once more then turned to leave. Brian watched as the ogre stomped away, the trees shaking all around it. When the tremors faded and the ogre had vanished into the fog bank, Brian let out a long sigh of relief and leaned back against the tree trunk. He ran his hands down his face in exasperation.

“Aw man, what a friggin’ day.” 

As he contemplated how to get safely down from the tree, a distant sound pulled his attention away. He turned back to where the ogre had departed into the mist and his eyes widened at the sight of a large wooden object emerging out of the wall of haze, striking any branches in its path as it sailed directly towards him.

“Oh sh…”

The ogre’s club smashed into the base of his tree, shattering a large piece  clean off and sending stress fractures rippling up the length of the trunk. Brian barely managed to get his feet back under him before the tree began to topple over, straining from the lack of support from its severed foundation. The tree crashed into the ground with a thunderous boom and Brian timed his leap at the last minute, jumping clear of the tree and, this time successfully, executing a seamless roll.  He rolled several blades and transitioned back onto his feet in one graceful maneuver, scanning the area with a renewed sense of terror. His ankle still throbbed but, compared to the pounding of his heart, the pain was negligible. The footsteps returned and Brian saw the ogre reemerge from the mist to his right, having retrieved its weapon and brandishing it violently overhead, screaming as it ran at him.

 “You was thinking I was the stupid one, but not, am I? The smell of human meat from afar I do, and little rabbit no tricksies me!”

The brute swung the club at Brian and Brian easily dodged aside as the end slammed into the earth, mere hands away from him. Brian underestimated the weight of the thing and the impact not only formed a small crater but also kicked up a significant amount of dirt around it, not to mention the seismic shock in its near vicinity. Brian cursed and fell backwards as earth and rocks sprayed into his face and the shaking caused him to lose his balance. The ogre took advantage of Brian’s disadvantaged position and torqued the club sideways, raking it across the top of the earth towards Brian. Brian was quick enough to catch the movement and leap-frogged over the club, feeling the hard wood graze his t-shirt as it passed just beneath him. The momentum from missing its target took the ogre by surprise and it stumbled backwards several steps as it struggled to reign in the unplaced force. Brian got back to his feet and got into a fighting stance; it was the best he could he hope for with an ankle that disallowed him to run. The ogre span around, huffing from the work of re-balancing its weapon, casting a glare at Brian that could have melted stone. It raised the club again, roared and attempted a side-arm swing this time. Brian ducked under the first strike and then jumped over the next as the ogre repeatedly failed to strike him. The downside to such a large weapon was its impractical clumsiness, though Brian guessed most of the ogre’s prey didn’t present much of a challenge in that respect. Growing more frustrated by the second, the ogre yelled in fury and came down again with both hands on the club with enough force to snap a car in half. Brian dove in between its legs as the club smashed into the dirt, shaking the ground violently and kicking up another plume of earth. The forest floor was beginning to look like an asteroid storm had passed through, or a barrage of artillery shells. Brian wasted no time and pulled out his knife, putting the blade between his teeth as he snatched up a handful of the ogre’s rags from behind. He shambled up the gruesome creature’s back, sneering at the many warts and boils exposed on its pallid flesh. The ogre yelled and tried to grab at Brian but even its elongated arms could not contort that far. Brian got to the creature’s shoulder and raised his knife to strike. The mutated eye glared at the knife coming down on it and the ogre managed to grab Brian’s wrist before he could make contact. With inhuman strength, it squeezed his arm, causing Brian to yelp in pain and drop the knife. The ogre reefed Brian back around and held him up in front of its face. It sneered down at the knife laying by its feet and brought a mammoth foot down onto it, embedding it deep into the earth. The ogre growled and slammed Brian down against the earth, as if he were its club. Brian had had the wind knocked out of him boxing many times, but never like what he felt in that moment. He couldn’t be too sure his ribs hadn’t liquefied and his lungs flattened into pancakes. He struggled to breathe, wheezing as he desperately tried to take in air. The ogre laughed with glee, clapping its huge hands together as it hopped up and down in enjoyment like a toddler at the circus.

As the spots in Brian’s vision cleared and his breath slowly came back in intermittent chest spasms, he found a large pair of exposed ogre genitalia dangling right above him. With a painful shift of his weight, he rolled his weight back onto his shoulder blades, tucking his knees into his chest, and kipped off the ground with all the force he could manage. His shoes plowed into the monstrous testicles and Brian sailed once more through the gap in the creature’s legs. The ogre bellowed a sound as loud as a foghorn and grabbed at its nether regions, falling onto its knees. The land shook as the ogre continued to scream in pain, smashing its fist into the forest floor, leaving impressions in the dirt. Even its mutated eye was squinting against the excruciating pain. Brian got to his feet and hobbled away as fast as his injured ankle would carry him. The ogre continued to throw a groaning fit, spitting out unintelligible curse words and gibberish that Brian had never heard the likes of. He manage perhaps several leave before he heard the footsteps return. In a stroke of good luck, Brian found a path leading out of the pine barrens which lead back to the base of the same mountain he had been at previously. As he scanned the cliff side for a potential escape route, he noticed his vision hadn’t quite cleared and his eyes seemed to play tricks on him; it had to be the injury messing with his brain as it appeared that all the colour in the landscape had been leeched away. He felt as if he was treading through some unknown monochromatic world, as if he had stepped into some other dimension. Along with the sapping of the hues returned the immense lethargy which crept upon him like a silent assassin. The last thing he recalled before blacking out was a fleeting thought that, somehow, magick must be involved.

Then the muscles in his legs gave out, his motor skills all in disarray, and he was lost to the conscious world.

***

There was a campfire. Somewhere very rural far, far away from civilization. Nostalgia hung heavy in the air, blending in with an unbreakable sense of camaraderie–a culture that had kept them all together. Kept them all alive. The them were the others there with him: five in total, including himself. Brian couldn’t put his finger on it but there was a problem with those numbers. Not that there was five but something else…Something about the who. That much wasn’t even apparent; the others sat around the campfire in similar fashion yet, even though the light of the flames played across their silhouettes, their features were barely more than shadows and shapes. The only one illuminated was Kade who sat beside him, staring intently into the flames. It appeared that the encampment was makeshift, their seats really just logs pulled together, as if they hadn’t planned to stay long. Brian’s head felt like it was filled with fog and he couldn’t recall how he had gotten there nor where he had come from, only that the scene was somehow…familiar. Which was a strange thing given he had no recollection of ever having been there. Was it a dream then? If so, why did it feel so real? He tried to look around to gather his bearings and speak out to the others but every time he tried, the campfire averted his attention back to it, as if it had its own special kind of greedy gravity. A mind of its own. He wanted so badly to know so many things but, try as he may, all he could do was gaze at the bed of burning embers at the bottom of the fire. It  had been burning for some time. Had he built this fire? What did it mean?

As if in answer to his countless questions, the flames seemed to speak to him as they crackled and hissed. Whether from one of the shadowy forms or the flames themselves, Brian heard a voice emerge out of the silence that permeated around them.

“It has already begun. You too are a part of this. It is watching, guiding… Always, there are signs if you seek to find them. Beware that which lies behind you; a member of the ancientmost gives the final word. Listen closely, perish mostly.”

Brian’s thoughts seemed to rise from his head and dance around above him, as if some disembodied thing in itself. His dissociated mind ebbed and flowed around the space, the confusion of a million math equations permeating his skull. Overwhelmed by it all, Brian gasped and keeled over off his log, holding his midsection as a great pain developed there. He glanced down to see a spreading dark blotch on his shirt. Was that…blood? He couldn’t be sure in the poor lighting. Kade immediately rushed to his aid kneeling down beside him and screaming frantically as he pulled on Brian’s arm. The boy’s words sounded far off and blurred around the edges, but it was clear he was in a state of panic. What was going on? Was he…dying?  Brian slumped over onto the dark floor, staring off into the darkness of space, transfixed at the nothingness of something he didn’t understand. He could hear Kade yelling, feel him pulling at him frantically, but all of that seemed so distant now.  But then his voice came back strong, except…It wasn’t his voice.

“My bits. MY bits. MY BITS…”

Brian snapped awake in the forest. The ogre roaring as it came careening through the woods at him, club raised to kill.

“My bits ye’r smashing and now you it does the same to!”

The ogre came down on him with his foot and Brian rolled aside, missing a squashing by pinches. Brian stumbled up and backed away from the beast. All the color seemed to have drained from the ogre too, its skin now a matte of gray, yet still disgusting despite it, and its teeth black and foreboding, stained with the blood of the unfortunate rabbit. The ogre’s eyes glinted in fury as it began swinging its club at him again. As before, Brian was able to dodge the strikes without too much difficulty, one of which connected with the rock face behind him, rebounding and jarring the ogre backwards. Brian looked to either side for an out and a feature caught his attention that he had previously missed: about a leave to his right there was a pass leading up the mountain, broken by a narrow crevasse across which spanned a single wooden suspension bridge. The thing looked sketchy as all hell but not any less than being eaten by an ogre, so Brian made for it. The ogre wasted no time pursuing and was hot on his trail in no time. Brian glanced over his shoulder in time to see a club coming down on him and he threw his weight aside as the club struck earth. He gasped as he found his footing suddenly gone and watched as the world began to tilt in his vision as he fell…into the crevasse. 

Brian waved his arms as he struggled to regain his balance but gravity won out and he tumbled off the cliff ledge. Luckily, he managed to grab a hold of the ledge and was left dangling precariously over open, black space, the depth of which was unknown. The ogre sauntered up to him and beamed down at him with a shit-eating grin of triumph. In the utmost insulting way possible, the ogre laughed triumphantly into the sky.

“You done never fished out of there hole boy, I did. No fishes at bottom, so no fishin’, ha! Just ‘e stinky bones. Yer bones, it.”

The ogre laughed once more and raised its foot for the final stomp. Brian was about fed up with the creature and told himself it was time to show it what he was made of. As the foot came down, Brian let go of the edge with one hand, rearing back his fist and throwing as much force as his position would allow into it, striking the bottom of the ogre’s foot. With a single oof, the ogre tumbled backwards, losing its balance and falling square on its back, shaking the land. Cracks spread out from underneath its huge bulk, rippling all the way to the place where Brian’s fingers grasped for dear life. Realizing the severity of his situation, Brian quickly muscled up over the ledge and pulled himself on to solid land once more. He got to his feet and looked from the dazed ogre to the bridge just to his right. 

Brian got an idea.

He waited until the ogre was back on its feet, which took some time as it appeared the stupid oaf had smacked its head something fierce when it was upended. Once it was back on its feet, it looked around several times, as if though it had no idea where it was. Then its gaze fell on Brian and rage stole over its expression as it most certainly recalled where it was. 

“Ye ‘n pay for that one, I do!” It roared and charged at him.

Brian slammed his fist into the earth between them and the cliff shook, more cracks rippling out and joining the others. As the ogre’s weight came down on the area, Brian felt the section shift and he turned and jumped for the bridge. As expected, a large segment of the cliff side sheared off, taking the ogre with it. The ogre screamed as it tumbled down with the debris, Brian hanging on for dear life to one of the ropes comprising the railings. Brian watched as the ogre fell past him into the chasm, bellowing like a cat in heat. But evolution was not on Brian’s side that day; the beast’s elongated arms afforded it the reach to grab onto Brian’s dangling leg, an immense weight suddenly reefing him down into the abyss below. Before he could even think to scream in protest, the meager tethers holding the bridge to its anchor posts snapped on the one end and Brian found himself sailing across the expanse with the ogre still attached as the bridge unfolded itself. Despite what Brian guessed to be near ten-cask of weight reefing on him, he held on with pure grip strength as the two of them dropped down toward the far rock face on the other side of the crevasse. He gasped against the pain in his shoulder capsules, the muscles doing their best not to separate. He was surprised his arms hadn’t torn clean out of the sockets. And then they struck the other side, or rather, the ogre did, given its superior surface area, the force of impact knocking Brian’s grip loose. The ogre fell with him but managed to get a hold onto a rocky extrusion, the sinewy muscles in its oversized arms flexing vigorously as they worked hard to bear its entire weight.  

Brian fell past the ogre and with lightning reflexes grabbed onto its belt. The ogre’s kilt fell to its knees and a massive bare ass hung exposed in the air, Brian hanging from nothing but disrobed underpants bundled around its ankles. He glanced up and grunted in disgust at the sight of, perhaps, the most gruesome buttocks he had ever seen. After mustering some resolve, Brian began climbing up the ogre’s back, taking special care not to make contact with its naked rear. The ogre cursed as Brian stepped on its face with his boot, pushing off as he reached up to one of the slats in the bridge to begin his ascent back to the top. In a bold move, the ogre swung an arm out and latched on fiercely to Brian’s ankle–the injured one, now swollen to the size of a grapefruit–which caused him a painful start.

“Both or none boy!” the ogre roared at him.

Brian kicked and kicked but the beast’s grip was too strong.

“Argh, don’t you ever give up?” Brian spat.

 The ogre just glared up at him with its deformed eyes, snorting with bubbles of snot popping out of its nostrils. Clearly, it didn’t know the meaning of the term. And then Brian remembered something:

Ogres were incredibly stupid.

“Hey!” He called. “I bet you can’t clap to ten.”

The beast looked taken aback, and then it considered the proposal.

“Thinks me stupid, you is? Ha!”

Brian’s heart sank as the easy-out flew away over the horizon. Nothing was ever easy in life.

“I’s once dun, uh, thirty…fifty. Uh…ugh, twenty ninety two! See, I’s…”

The ogre let go of the ledge and clapped once, twice, before realizing the fatal mistake it had made. Brian met the pitiful creature’s gaze as it fell downward into the crevasse, its eyes as wide as saucers.

“Boooooy!” it yelled, and then the monster disappeared into oblivion as the darkness consumed it.

As the ogre faded to black, a wave of color seemed to rise from the pit and wash over the land. The mountain side returned to its earthen hues; the forest gleamed with its lush greens and yellows; blues, oranges, reds, and purples flooded over the sky and white light in all its full-spectrum glory shone once more from the fading sun, now nearly below the distant treetops. The wind rustled through Brian’s hair, whistling as it passed across the chasm below. Bird sounds began to emanate from the forest and, finally, everything seemed to have returned to normal.

Brian pulled himself up on to the ledge and turned back to the crevasse, sitting with his legs hanging over the edge. He stared down into the rocky abyss, considering the events that had just unfolded. 

Had it been a spell of some kind? Was this related to Falkner’s somehow? It all seemed too convenient to be coincidence. He new next to nothing about magick, having grown up in about the least-fantastical life possible, but he knew something was in the air that day. He sighed. Some answers remained silent, it seemed.

He turned his head and watched Karayus as it said its daily goodbye to the  world of light and he sat there in a meditative state in the near-night gloaming, reminiscing on how many times he had cheated death in his life. He thought of his parents and the many others in the world who hadn’t been so lucky and he was overcome with emotion, though he couldn’t say if it was happiness, sadness, or both. Either way, it felt good to feel again.

It felt good to be alive.

***

“What do you think?” The flute-wielding gnome asked. His voice was pleasant enough.

“I think…it was nice. It was familiar.” Kade said, hesitantly.

The man smiled and uncrossed his legs. He let his feet dangle over the edge of the mushroom’s cap.

“It was The Maiden’s Dance. An old song from long ago, when songs like that meant something.”

The man slid off the cap and landed in the courtyard with grace, which was impressive considering the drop. He walked up to Kade with a kindly expression on his face. Kade stood still, confused.

“I come here every night and play my flute. Well, at least that’s what you cren call it. I don’t dare assume you would be able to pronounce the gnomish translation.”

“Yeah, that seems to be a trend around here.” Kade muttered.

The gnome caressed the instrument with two fingers, as if it consoling a lover. His eyes trailed upwards to Kade’s. “You can call me Ponoto. I live here in the city. What is your name?”

Kade struggled for words. “M…my name? I’m…Kade. My name is Kade.”

Ponoto held out his hand and Kade shook it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Kade.”

Kade’s eyes never left the man’s smiling gaze. The gnome seemed too…trusting. That was a red flag, considering Kade was obviously trespassing. And human.

“I see that you are not from here.” Ponotto grabbed the tops of his pointy ears and tugged on them, signifying this very point.

Kade touched his own ears self-consciously, feeling the rounded cartilage and realizing the cue. “Y…yeah. Yes, I mean. I’m a….I’m cren.”

Kade watched for the man’s expression to turn to horror or disgust, for him to break out panic and signal for the nearest guard, but he remained unscathed and just stood there smiling. His aloofness was almost…creepy.

“Yes, indeed you are. And an adventurous one to have found your way down here. What is your business, if you don’t mind my intrusion? Or perhaps it is your intrusion?”

Ponoto’s smile didn’t let up. Though the gnome was keen enough–perhaps too keen for his liking–Kade couldn’t convince himself to be at ease. Why wasn’t he reacting to a cren intruder? Were gnomes used to intruders? Kade decided not to press his luck.

“I’m looking for someone, er…something, I guess. Both, really. Someone with something. He stole it from me. I think he lives down here. I followed him through, uh…I followed him down here. I found this map and it said there was a directory around here somewhere but I can’t seem to find it. I was hoping that maybe, well…I don’t know what I was hoping, now that I think about it. Maybe that I’d, uh…recognize his name…”

Kade trailed off as he realized for the first time that he really hadn’t thought his plan through at all since coming to the gnome city. What was he thinking? Even if he could read gnomish–which he clearly couldn’t–how could he find a name he didn’t even know? The more he considered the foolishness of the whole thing, he realized that the talisman might not be worth anything to begin with. What if this whole fool’s errand culminated in finding or not finding a piece of garbage? Somehow, somewhere deep inside of him, Kade knew this wasn’t the case. There was something special, something…other-worldly about that object. The images he saw in that gemstone…they wouldn’t let him forget. It was if he was a part of them, somehow. Or that he was meant to be. He had no idea what it all meant, but he needed to know…

Ponoto rubbed his bristly chin. “That’s not a whole lot to go off of, to be sure. I can see why you would be lost. Do you have any idea who this person is?”

“No. That’s where I’m stuck.”

Ponoto nodded. “I see. Well what does he look like? Tall, short, thin, fat, young, old?”

Kade scratched his head. “Well, he was young, I think. I don’t know how gnomes age but he looked young.”

Ponoto laughed. “We’re not too different in that regard, I’m afraid. No immortalists among us. Though I hear your kind has surmounted that hurdle, no?”

Kade nodded. “If you have the money, sure. I don’t know much about that stuff though. That’s big-city stuff. I’m from a small town.”

“Not quite like this, I imagine.” Ponoto mused.

“No, not quite, but some things are similar. It’s Second Era–old, like this. And quiet too. Not too much happens there. Definitely no mushrooms like this where I’m from.”

Ponoto chuckled. “Ah yes, the murzhlum are impressive, aren’t they? But I hate to be the one to tell you this: no gnome would call the Second Era ‘old’ here. At that point, we were already developing phase three cavernology. As I understand it, your kind had barely learned to play nice with each other at that point. Fighting over table scraps and the sort.”

This piqued Kade’s curiousity. After all, he knew nothing about the folk.

“Well, I wouldn’t say we’ve ‘gotten over that’, to be sure. If anything, we’ve gotten a lot better at killing each other. I’m just thankful I live where I do. There are a lot of crazy places in the world.”

Ponoto nodded. “Indeed. So tell me more about this mysterious vagabond you are after. You mentioned something about a stolen object?”

Kade eyed the gnome suspiciously. Here, he walked a very fine line; he had no idea if the talisman was important or not and, if he gave away too much, he might even put himself in danger. Kade opted for broad strokes.

“It’s a piece of, uh…jewellery. Belonged to my mom. Family heirloom. Really sentimental value. You know how it is.”

Or a complete and total lie.

Ponoto raised an eyebrow at that. “And this sacred familial artifact, can you describe it?”

Kade swallowed. He felt like he was being put on the spot. How did one inaccurately describe an object as to not draw attention while including enough accuracy to properly identify and, potentially, locate it? It was a conundrum. 

The truth then.

“It’s made of metal, has a small stone in the center. Nothing too special about it. Lost most of its lustre over time.”

A partial truth.

“Nothing too special, other than its very important value, that is?”

Kade stumbled. “Uh, right. I meant, the design…uh, you know, like…um… It’s not special in how it looks, just that…”

“Kade, it’s okay. I understand now.” Ponoto cut him off, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

Kade jumped slightly at the touch, though he didn’t know why. It wasn’t as if gnomes were electrified. No, it was the man’s whole air of nonchalance that put him off. But Kade pushed past it, forcing himself to look the man in the eyes which, given Kade’s short stature, were almost level with his own. 

“I believe the object you seek is actually in the possession of our Royal Foragemaster. I had heard rumours circulating around a similar item picked up by Acquisition.”

Kade perked up at the news. “Foraging? That makes so much sense now! That’s why he had that little purse on him…”

“A purse? We’re looking for a cross dresser then? That narrows it down.”

Ponoto chuckled and then waved his hand in apology. “Forgive me, I don’t get much of an opportunity to mess around with humans. I think you’ve opened my eyes to a new pastime. That aside, the one benefit to my position here in the kingdom is that I hear many things and get to know many people. If you would like, I can arrange a meeting with Acquisition to help you fill out the necessary paperwork and file a request for re-appropriation.”

Kade frowned at all the talk of bureaucracy. “That’s ridiculous! Why should I have to do all that when it belongs to me?”

Ponoto feigned searching Kade’s person, holding a hand above his brow as if scanning the horizon. “Strange, I don’t seem to see this item of self-belonging on your person. This tells me…it doesn’t belong to you anymore.”

Kade grunted. “You know what I mean. Besides, even if I did agree to that, what makes you think they’d help a human? For all I know they’d arrest me on site.”

Ponoto nodded thoughtfully. “This is true. Well, it seems you are in something of a bind then.”

Kade sighed, and crossed his arms. “I don’t like drama. Whatever you’re playing at, please don’t include me. Either you can help me or you can’t.”

Ponoto pondered the boy for a long moment and then his expression changed, for the first time, to one of almost boredom. “You said that this unimportant, very-important piece of jewellery–it was stolen from you, correct?”

Kade nodded.

“How did he get close enough to you to do that? An ambush perhaps?”

“Well, it was an ambush, but not on us. We came across him on a beach and then we…I thought it would be fun to try and catch him for the whole good luck thing, so I sneaked up to him under water and managed to grab him, before he ran away with my piece.”

Ponoto grinned. “Ahh, the plot thickens. I have an idea, but it will have to wait for tomorrow. If you would like, I can offer you a bed to sleep in for the night. It might not be uncomfortable for a boy of your size. What do you think?”

Kade eyed the man. “Why are you helping me out?”

“The bed that you will sleep in—if you choose to sleep in it, that is—belonged to my son before he passed away. You remind me of him; that same adventurous spirit and young energy that he once possessed. For a cren to wander so far out of his element, well… It’s something that he would have done.”

Ponoto’s energy seemed to turn dark all of a sudden.

“He was a musician, like his father, but in recent years we have had a plight of unsavoury creatures infesting our lands, coming down from the mountains and swamps just beyond in the hinterlands, threatening the safety of our people and resources, and he was drafted as part of a contingent to drive them off. There were supposed to be sacred treaties in place to prevent this kind of thing but, alas, something has driven them mad and all order has been lost, along with my poor Trevorus…”

The mood grew sombre and Kade wasn’t sure what to say so he remained silent, nodding his head and sharing a look that, he hoped, we would belie some compassion. Ponoto gazed off at nothing, his mind seeming to go to a dark place. Kade could see a kind of fire burning in those eyes then, and it gave him a fright.

You truly didn’t know someone until you knew them.

Ponoto’s gaze wandered back on Kade and seeing the youth seemed to pull  him out of his dark place. He shook his head, his pat smile returning.

“I apologize, Kade. Sometimes, my mind wanders. These things have their…effects on a gnome. Alas, I bid you to consider my proposal, if not to warm an old man’s bones with your company.”

Whether in pity or for another reason unbeknownst to him, Kade nodded in agreement. “Sure. Beats sleeping out here in the cold air. I appreciate it.”

Ponoto’s grinned and began walking down a path out of the courtyard. “This is great news, Kade. Follow me then, I’ll take you to my quarters. By the way, are you hungry? I make a mean rabbit stew.”