The candle on the table flickered slowly in the cool breeze drifting through Raul's small farm house. Outside, the sun was shining brightly, but it hardly had an effect on the man and teenager inside the house, as the shades were drawn to prevent any straggling passerby to happen to glance inside and witness the scene in front of them. Because of this, it was dark in the house, and the single candle was the only form of light. It cast eerie shadows across the room and made them dance, as if they were inspired by the Heath Branson's words. The effect was chilling, and it sent shivers down Raul's spine.
Raul leaned back in his hair, and focused all his attention on the young man in front of him. Though Heath couldn't be more than seventeen years old, it was plain just from looking at him he was no boy. There was a look in his eyes, a certain coldness, as if childhood innocence had been sucked right out of him. There were scars on his wrists and ankles from where his shackles had cut through the skin. Even his features were rugged, like that of a war veteran, and it was clear form his posture that he was never relaxed. His muscles were tensed, always ready to spring him into action at the smallest sign of danger, and his eyes were constantly scanning the room for any disturbances, searching out an escape plan just to be safe.
Heath straightened up and took a deep breath. "My story is long... and it goes far beyond just me. Are you sure you want to hear it? It doesn't have a happy ending, I'm warning you now."
Raul just nodded once, slightly, but enough for Heath to see. Heath shrugged, and scooted as far forward in his chair as he could go. "All right... Well, to tell it properly, we can't start with me. We have to start with where it all began. With my father. Keep in mind, none of this could be true. All I have to go on are the stories he told me as a child, and what I've gathered since his death."
Raul gestured with his hands, beckoning Heath to continue.
"Well, my father... When I was little, and I would ask him where he came from, he would just smile and say, 'Another world.' I of course had no idea what he was talking about. But I never thought he was lying. Whenever I asked him what he meant by 'another world,' he would just smile and say 'You'll learn one day.' It was similar to when I asked who my mother was, and he would tell me she was a very beautiful woman who died when I was very little. He would never tell me anything more than that, no matter how much I asked. Eventually, like conversations of the other world my father came from, I stopped asking, and it just faded away, irrelevant to our life.
"I always knew something was different about us. We were always traveling, and occasionally we would have to go into forests to hide from someone. Who, I had no idea. Looking back on it now, I know it must have been someone from the Kingdom. We would hide in forests and caves for weeks at a time. It lead to a very unstable lifestyle. We never settled down in one place, either. If we weren't hiding out in a cave somewhere, we were moving from town to town.
"My father was a very curious man. He was constantly seeking answers about something or other. He kept a journal of all his notes and findings. He was always writing in it, sometimes for days at a time. It was as if he was completely obsessed with it, like it held some sort of answer in it that he needed to know. There was one night, when he was sleeping, I crept over through his bag and took out his journal. I remember I was surprised at how heavy it was. I crept outside the house we were staying in at the time and opened it by the moonlight. I was desperate to understand something, anything that was going through my fathers mind. I wanted to fervently to be a part of this part of him that he kept to himself. But when I opened it and looked inside, it was all written in some strange code. I couldn't make sense of any of it. I scanned through a few pages and saw they were all like that, written in some strange language that my father seemed to have made up on his own; and the pages were filled from corner to corner of it, with little doodlings of strange symbols here and there. I couldn't make heads or tails of it, and just a few seconds later, my father came outside and snatched the journal from me. He didn't say a word, but I could tell from the look on his face that I had done something forbidden. The next morning, he didn't speak of it though, and he never did.
"When I was nine years old, we were going through a town market, stocking up on supplies, when one of the royal guards noticed us. He apparently recognized my father somehow, though how, I couldn't tell you. To me, it seemed like we weren't in civilization enough to possibly be recognized, but I suppose my father did have a life before I was born. Either way, someone recognized him, and they surrounded us on all sides. They seemed so determined not to let my father get away. I couldn't imagine why, I had never seen him do anything illegal. Either way, I just knew that we were in trouble. I had never seen my father so scared in his life. When they began to close in on us, he looked at me with a look in his eyes I couldn't explain. He clutched me tighter than he had ever held me before. My father was not the sentimental type, I assure you, and when he hugged me that one last time, it was as if his fear went into me, and I was terrified.. I knew that that was going to be the end, and I didn't want to let go of him. He slipped something into my hands though, and I didn't look down to see what it was. He pushed me hard, with tears in his eyes, and yelled for me to run.
"I was slight enough that I was able to squeeze through the guards and I just kept running, never looking back. It wasn't until later that evening, when I had finally stopped running, that I looked down to see what it was my father had given me. It was his journal.
"The very next day, they held a public hanging for my father. I didn't go to it though. I knew they would be looking for me there, and I had to follow my father's last wishes: to run. And I did run. I ran everywhere, for one and a half years, I ran everywhere. I lived wherever I could find shelter, and I ate whatever I could come across. It wasn't much, but it was enough to survive on, and I learned how to live on my own. I had watched my father do it for nine years, and then it was my turn.
"I followed in my fathers footsteps in more ways than one though. I too became obsessed with his journal, but whereas he was was obsessed with writing in it, I became obsessed with understanding it. When I wasn't running, I was poring over that book, trying to make sense of the strange characters, and trying to discover what they could possibly mean.
"Then, I figured it out. There was one character on each page that acted as a sort of guide to translating. If you could figure out what that one character meant, you could then translate the rest of the page. But it was very slow work. You had to find the key character, as I called it, and then you had to figure out what it meant, and then you had to figure out where it went, and then you had to start trying to decipher all the characters around it, and that was very trial and error based. The amount of time it took to translate one page was monumental. It took me four months to figure out the first page. And then you had to repeat the same process for each and every page of the the damned book, and let me tell you, that thing was filled with pages. In a year and a half of trying to figure out that book, I translated three pages of it."
He stopped then, letting the memories wash over him. Raul couldn't even begin to understand how difficult this was for Heath. How many years had he stopped himself from thinking of his fathers death? But Raul was a good audience, and he sat patiently while Heath regained his train of thought.
"So anyways, um... where was I? Oh yeah..." Heath coughed to clear his throat, then continued. "Three pages of insight into my fathers mind, into learning what he was all about. And then, they finally caught up to me. I can remember that day clearly... My last memory of the outside world before you came and busted me out. I was eleven, and I was stopping for the night, setting up camp outside of a small town near The Edge, when a member of the Royal Guard approached me. I was on edge, as I always was when around anyone from the Kingdom, but he didn't seem to know who I was. Instead, he just was stopping for some small talk. Apparently, this was back when the king was interested in trying to figure what was beyond The Edge of Earth, and I just happened to be in that area when a particularly friendly guard was on duty. He kept trying to start a conversation with me, but I cut it short every time. I think eventually he must've picked up on my nervousness and began to question me. It wasn't long before he demanded to search my tent, and I didn't have much of a choice but to let him. The only truly incriminating evidence I had inside it was my father's journal, but it was tucked away in the bottom of my pack, and I hoped he wouldn't find it
"He did though, and surprisingly quick at that. He immediately placed me under arrest and took me and the journal up to the king the very next day. I couldn't do much to fight a member of the royal guard at the time, mind you. I was pretty scrawny. I didn't get a whole bunch to eat, and I wasn't quick enough to run. I still ain't.
"I hadn't realized how far up on the wanted list I was. Surely no ordinary criminal gets put before the King. They had brought me in in shackles, and they presented the King first with me, then with my father's journal.
"As soon as he realized he couldn't read it, he demanded that I show him how. I still didn't know why they wanted to know, and I insisted I couldn't decipher it.. They didn't believe me though, and for three days they tortured me in the dungeons of the king's castle. I never talked, not once, and they decided to take me up to the king once more to decide what was to be done with me.
"He dismissed all his guards, leaving just the two of us in his chamber. I stood there, in front of the king, bruised and bloody from the torture those bastards put me through. I could tell he was pissed that I hadn't told them how to read the journal, and his scribes weren't getting anywhere close to figure out the code. He told me that if I taught him how to read it, I would be allowed to go free. If I didn't, then I would meet the same fate as my father. I told him I would be honored to die protecting my fathers secrets. That's when he brought in the girl.
"She was beautiful, with long, dark hair, and olive skin. I'd never seen anyone like her before. She was so... radiant. He called her in and had her come over to him. He said he would give me one last chance to tell, or I would receive a far worse punishment then death. Still, I was resolute. Looking back on it now, I still don't know if I'd made the right choice...
"The king stood then, and drew a dagger. At first, I thought he was going to try to torture me more himself, and I braced myself for the pain as he began walking towards me. Then, he made a change in direction, and approached the girl instead. He grabbed her by her hair, baring her throat, and put the dagger up to it.
"He offered me one last chance, and I didn't know what to do. I hesitated, trying to think of some way out of the situation, but none came to mind. Finally, he drew the knife back, slicing her throat. I couldn't believe it. I had no idea who she was, or what she was doing in the Kingdom, but she lost her life because of me. The king then called in his guards and told them that I had attacked her when she happened to walk in the room with a dagger I had hidden in my robe. No one questioned him, and I was too shocked to fight back when the guards grabbed me.
"The king told them he wanted me put into underground prison, and I was taken to Stronghold immediately, and put into the dungeons where you found me just last night. I've been there ever since."
Heath finally stopped, finished with his tale.
Raul simply sat there in awe. He had no idea how different the truth and what people believed were. It made him wonder what else the Kingdom was hiding.
He didn't have time to dwell on things like that though. He had a mission to carry out.
"What was in the first three pages of your father's journal?" Raul asked. "What was it he was studying?"
"You know that already though," Heath claimed. "The other world. The one my father came from. Isn't that why you got me out, to find out what I know about the other world?"
"Of course," Raul agreed readily. "That other world is extremely important."
"But why?" Heath asked.
"Because," Raul quickly responded, "the other world is having effects on ours. If nothing is done about it, there's rumors going around it could lead to an apocalypse. The end of the world."
"Well I didn't read anything about an apocalypse," Heath said thoughtfully.
"Then tell me what you did read," Raul demanded. "That's why I got you out in the first place."
"Well," Heath began, "I don't remember it all word for word, it was a long time ago, but I remember my father talked about how he had been walking in his world and somehow ended up walking into ours. And, um... let's see... I remember he said he tried to find his way back, but however he came in, the door seemed to be closed now. Oh! And he said that this world was much different than his old world. And, um... that's about all I can remember..."
"That's it?" Raul questioned with ludicry. "I thought you said your father was studying something that he was obsessed with, something that made the Kingdom want him dead. You're father didn't say anything in that stupid journal about how the worlds could effect each other, or about how to get through to the other world, or anything like that?"
"Not in the three pages that I read," Heath said, "but you have to realize something Mr. Mason. Those pages were written before I was even born, when my father had only just gotten into this world. For all I know, my father didn't start looking for whatever he was looking for until several years later. Maybe not even until after I was born. Three pages was hardly enough to learn what you need to know."
Raul growled, resting his head back on the back of his chair. "Ughhh..." he groaned. "So I busted you out for nothing. I'm nowhere nearer to figuring out this mystery than I was to begin with."
"Not true," Heath shot back. "You have me. Now, I don't know about all these different things that you claim to be going on and leading up to an apocalypse, but it has to do with the other world, and as of right now, I am the Earth's most top leading expert on the other world."
Raul sighed heavily. "You know," he began, lifting his head up to look at Heath. "There is a way we could get back on track and try to figure this thing out."
"How?" Raul asked.
"We need your father's journal." Raul's look was thoughtful, and Heath half expected him to laugh at his joke, but he didn't.
"Excuse me?" Heath looked at Raul incredulously.
"Well, the Kingdom has the journal," Raul said, almost more to himself than to Raul. "We could sneak in and take it, but it would be difficult."
"Difficult is putting it lightly," Heath responded. "More like impossible."
"But there's no other way," Raul said. "The Kingdom is a four days walk from here. I don't own a horse, or we would ride."
"Okay," Heath said, standing, "first of all, what kind of farm is this if you don't have a horse? Secondly, don't you think you should consider this before we walk into a suicide mission?"
"This is less of a farm and more of a desolate wasteland for the next twelve acres or so ever since that other world has been messing with our worlds climate," Raul said without really thinking. "As for your suicide mission, there's no other way. We have to have that journal. Without it, how can we hope to figure out what's going on here and try to stop it? Besides, some people would consider it a suicide mission to break into the largest prison in all of Earth and break out one of the most dangerous criminals ever known. Aren't you glad I pulled that one off?"
"You're luck can only hold out so long," Heath said, determined. "There's no way this is possible."
"Look," Raul shot back, getting angry, "I'm going there with or without you, but I would think you would be willing to come along and help, considering without me, you'd still be shacked into that tiny pathetic excuse for a cell. Don't you want to get your father's journal back? Don't you want to finally learn all the things about him you never could when he was alive?"
Heath remained silent.
"I'm going to the Kingdom," Raul continued. "And I'm going to get that journal, though without you I don't see how I'm going to read it. I'm not going to lie to you Heath. I need you in this. You're the key. Without you, I'm just breaking into the most heavily guarded building ever dreamt of, to steal a book from the most powerful man in Earth. But if you're there, we could be stealing an answer. We could save the world."
Heath looked up at Raul, who had found himself standing halfway through his little speech. Heath sighed. "When do we leave?"
***
Alex stumbled dazedly over to the fountain once more and sat on the edge of it, breathing hard. How could she have let this happen? What was her mom going to think when she pulled herself out of her drunken stupor? Oh god...
Alex shut her mind against thoughts of her mother and instead looked up at Jason and
Ben, both of whom were looking at her worriedly.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered to them.
The bush jumped up to the edge of the fountain with Alex and climbed into her lap, attempting to comfort her.
Jason just mumbled something inaudible, and Ben remained silent. Alex attempted to end the depressing thoughts by looking around her. They were obviously in a town of some sort, but there didn't seem to be any people around. Then again, it was very early in the morning. They seemed to be on some sort of a main street, with smaller alley like streets branching off of it. It did seem to be pleasant though, and she was sure that whenever midday rolled around, this street would be full of shoppers.
She turned her head sharply to the left upon hearing a noise from that direction. Someone was walking out of a house in between two shops. It was a woman, and she was wearing what looked like something that popped out of a little house on the prairie. It was a long blue dress with an apron over it, and a sort of hat thing on her head. She gave the three of them an odd look, but continued to unlock one of the shops next door to her home and go inside. Alex looked down at what she was wearing. Blue jeans and a green t shirt under her thin jacket. Back at home she would have blended in nicely, but here, she was going to stick out like a sore thumb.
She looked at Jason and Ben and saw that they were each wearing pajama pants and a jacket.
"Guys," Alex said, "we should probably get off of this street."
"Why?" Ben asked.
"Well, we're gonna stick out," Alex pointed to their clothes, "and I don't want us to draw attention to ourselves. We need to find some other clothes to change into."
"She's right," Jason agreed. "The last thing we need to do is attract attention. We're going to have enough trouble with that as it is."
Ben nodded.
Alex stood up and began walking toward one of the smaller alleys leading off from the larger street they were on. She looked down it and saw that it lead down a very long ways, with other, smaller alleys branching off from it. This town was like an interweaving spiderweb of streets, she realized. It would be very easy to get lost here.
The bush took a few steps into the smaller street and sniffed, testing the air.
"Hey! You!" The three teenagers spun around at the sound of the new voice and saw a man heading towards them. He was tall, and was wearing something that looked like chain mail, and over it he wore a bright red vest. On the heart of the vest, the letters RG stood out in bright yellow.
"Come here," the armored man demanded. "Now."
Alex looked down and saw that the bush was growling, a surprising low hum coming from it. The bush didn't trust this man, and neither did Alex. "Run," she whispered.
Instantly, a mad chase was on. Jason and Ben were leading it, with Alex behind them, the bush clutched into her arms. The armored man was behind them, moving surprisingly quick for wearing such heavy armor.
"Guys," Jason panted, "we need to split up to get rid of this guy. Let's all agree to meet back at the fountain at noon. In the meantime, find a change of clothes so we can blend in."
Ben nodded in agreement, and even though Alex didn't like the idea of splitting up, she knew it was the best plan. "All right," she agreed.
"Now!" Jason yelled, and he ducked into an alley to his right, while Ben took the left. Alex ran up a few feet and sped into an alley to her left. She didn't know who the man had decided to pursue, and she didn't chance looking back to see if he was there. Every time she could, Alex would turn into another street, until she had no idea where she was anymore, the maze of unmarked streets confusing her beyond belief.
Finally, the street she was on after running for twenty minutes opened up into a much larger area, covered in grass. Alex looked around. Had she really left the town entirely? There was only one building ahead of her. Behind her, the small alley from which she had just emerged looked shady and dangerous compared to the wide open plains out here. She allowed the bush to jump down from her arms and walk next to her as she approached the one building she could see, the rest was just blank openness from what she could see of the wide plains. The building in front of her looked like a house, with a large fenced in area behind it. There didn't seem to be anything in the fence, so Alex climbed it and headed over to a small shack leaning against the far corner of the fence.
She looked inside and saw that it was empty, save for a large pile of straw. She went inside and sat on the straw, marveling in its softness. She leaned her head against the harsh wood of the shack and closed her eyes, thinking of what to do next. However, a mix of exhaustion and anxiousness rushed over her, and with the bush cuddling into her lap, Alex drifted into a shallow and uneasy sleep.
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