30 Days of Darkness

   

Day One: Ring

I've thought about this for most of my life, Höbin. The events just don't make sense.   It all started just after I learned how to use my abilities.   Being confined to Sanctuary for years can make anyone stir crazy--then all of a sudden, you have the shackles throw off? That's a big deal.   Plus, not having to rely on Prime Gates to get around? Sure gives a kid with a curious mind some options, if ya know what I mean.   So where would a guy go, who can teleport, is old enough to drink AND doesn't have to listen to mom and dad anymore?   Tavern hopping, of course.   Besides, I wanted to see how far I could jump before I puked my guts out.   I figured it would also help hone my skills. Before too many people freak out over my unadulterated handsomeness, I could just port away.   Might even save a coin or two in drinking tabs.   Don't laugh at me, Höbin.
I can end this before I even get started ya know...   I said I was free, not rich--and I've paid back every coin I've owed a tavern since then.
(Chuck made sure of that...)   What I didn't realize was, a ring of Ogriel had been watching me. Followed me ever since the old man started my training.   Still don't know the name of the group, but if I remember right, it turned out to be some sort o' cult. They served Mahan I'm guessing... or maybe one of my idiot brothers. Either way, they were aparently wait'n for me to leave Sanctuary.   Don't have a clue how they found me, or WHY they were planning on grabbin' me--but they did.   What THEY didn't realize, was that I might be a kid--but I'd never been defenseless in my life.
Ain't no beta-male in THESE shorts!   So when those cocky little craps snuck up on me using their little shade rings, none of them expected this young, ruggedly handsome Evolu to bite their damn finger off.   Oh, don't look at me like that. Where did ya think Chuck got his? Besides, it's not that bad of an experience--just a bit of crunch.   Wellll, after the 'pop' and the warm, salty 'squirt' anyway.   The scream that first guy made was so unsettling, it gave me time to spit out the dolt's finger, wipe the blood from my face, and slip the ring into the waistband of my shorts.   Simple.   Saved it for the old man's birthday.   (He LOVED it, by the way. Told him I won it in a game of bloodsticks, so don't say nuthin'.)   Anyway--just after I slipped the ring into my shorts, I got clocked on the back of the head.   I wonder how many of the others got nabbed the same way?  

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Day Three: Bait

T hanks, Höbin. Appreciate that. A lot.   Not sure how long I was there, but the wound on my scalp got infected. Then again, the hallucinations might have been from experiencing that environment. It was impossible to think with all the wailing going on.   I became obsessive with checking my wound, jabbing my fingers into the bump with the rhythm of the moaning. The crazy thought came to me that if my wound stopped bleeding, I'd join the rest of the poor souls in insanity. So I kept jabbing myself, using the pain to stay as focused.   Wanting to protect myself, I also crawled along the floor until I found a stone wall to both lean against and to cover my back.   More than once I had to beat off wandering hands in the darkness as I drifted off to sleep.   The hairs on my neck and arms went up as faces drew close--excited sounds behind putrid breath.   People looking for something to eat.   It all changed with the rattling--chains--being dragged across a hard surface.
It was faint at first, but the chinking grew louder--until it switched to keys fidgeting in a lock.   That's when the looming bodies, hungry or not...scattered into blackness.   The voices I heard next were deep. Mixed with gravel.   "They be hungry, Ämu."
"I know."
"If we not feed them, they turn on us. Painful it be!"
"I know, Kävä."
"What we do then? Master say we bring Wanderer here, so we take his flesh...but Ämu, beasts must feed also, or..."
"I KNOW, Kävä. We use one of these. Bait in deep pool, just like Master bait new flesh so Wanderer come to us. Then we get GOOD hunt."
"Oooo. OOOOH! That good ideas, Ämu. GOOD ideas, yes!"
"I guard door. You get bait."
"What? Me go in...alone?"
"Yes. Go. Now. Fast."
"But...they bite, Ämu. It hurts me. I not want lose 'nother finger!"
"You faster now. Go. Hurry."
"I no like you, Ämu."
"You like me when catch hugger and we eat too."
"Ungh. Me is hungry. Hmph. Okay."
"What you wait for? Go, NOW!"
"What one new flesh? I no make Master angry."
"Pshaw! Go. Grab one still bleeding for smell. Master no put new flesh in pit with garbage. Master smart."
"Yes. Master smart. Okay--you hold door. Raise club and I run, okay?"
"Okay."   I'd curled up into a ball, hoping not to be noticed--but the footsteps walked right to me, huge hands grabbing me roughly.
Fingers jammed into wounds, splitting my lips again, fresh blood covering my chin.
I yelped in pain, which he ignored.   So I bit him.   Hard.   "I SAID THEY BITE, ÄMU!"
"BITE IT BACK!"   Luckily I got a fist in the face and not teeth.   Once more life went black.   I jolted awake...to incredible pressure.
The blood in my skull pushed to whatever exit it could find.
My broken nose tried to siphon air into my lungs.
...while the nasty, wet, gag prevented my mouth from doing ITS job.   Blinking, I let the faint light seep in.   Funny thing about that light--being without it for that long and surrounded by the poor souls of captivity, it reminded me of a saying Chuck used to drill into me:  

Be just as independent as Pääjuma to do good, Dax. Love mercy, eschew evil, be a savior to your family, friends, and to all the races just as much as you possibly can. Go on with your independence and do not yield yourself a servant to obey Mahan, an evil principal or an evil being of any kind.

  That's what hit me as I found myself dangling over a dank pit.   One you'd use as an outhouse by the smell of it.   The blindfold didn't allow me to look around, but I did get a good glance downward.   ...and I wasn't alone.  

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Day Five: Build

That's the thing,...I had no idea.   My body was shaking so hard I was surprised I wasn't caught.   The echo of my teeth chattering was so loud, it sounded like a rattlesnake at my heels.     Nope. Not a clue.   Didn't help that a snowstorm raged outside, covering the landscape in a white blanket.   How long had I been unconscious?   The last tavern I'd been to was still experiencing the beginnings of fall, not winter.   For long moments, I just stood there and breathed in and out. The snow felt warm against my skin...but I knew that wouldn't going to last. Also, the smell of Mr. Warm n' Fuzzy Face Hugger clinging to my skin kept drawing my attention.   It would draw the attention of whoever would come looking for me.   Grabbing several fists of dirt and snow, I started scrubbing my skin. Not a perfect solution, but it would help.   The window led out onto a wide ledge, which dropped down and out of sight. I followed it slowly to my right--hugging the stone until I reach ground level. A large courtyard--again, which didn't look familiar.   In the distance, I could see shadows of trees still fighting the blanket of snow.   So I ran.   Didn't care where I was going. Just knew I had to get away before someone realized I was gone.   The next few hours hurt like hell.   I pushed my legs until I couldn't breathe. Sucking ice daggers into my lungs, stumbling through the forest--only stopping long enough to keep my chest from bursting.   That's when I heard them.     Horns.   First one...then others.
Coordinating efforts I guessed.   I ran faster.   My tracks didn't matter, which was one of my few advantages. The snow was falling so fast and hard, my trail was covered within moments. Unless they were using tracking spells, even the best Therrin would be hard-pressed to find me--especially since my cuts had sealed from being coated in that goo.   Thank TGII, I wasn't bleeding any more.   Don't know how long I ran, but as the last light waned, I discovered a small mound. Probably an animal den, but it was just big enough for me to crawl into.   Chuck taught me when I was a young kid how to build a shelter. We used to go camping in the Tilliman Highlands during the summer months. How to use plants around you to build a rough shelter, how to make fires in pits that diffuse the smoke--even how to make traps to get food.   So I pulled in all the branches I could find and snapping off lower hanging resources. Quickly weaving them together, I backed into the hole and covered my shelter.   ...and let Mother Nature do the rest.   Those horns sounded again--closer this time.   Within minutes, thanks to the storm, I vanished from the world.   Just wish I was better prepared for what came next.  

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Day Seven: Enchanted

Har, har, har. I twisted, flipped, and pulled against the things grip, but the more I struggled, the tighter it became.   I even tried to port--which normally I can do if I have enough room and strength.   It didn't work.   It was the strangest thing, too. I could feel the energy pulsing through my skin, but nothing happened.   "I wouldn't do that if I were you, my young friend," came a voice upon the wind.   Flipping my head from side to side, I couldn't locate the owner of the voice. It was a high-pitched tone, mixed with venom.   "You were never supposed to leave our keep in the first place, Daxänu. Did you think you could escape us?"   It was then I noticed the rune-inscribed bands around the wrists and neck of the thing holding me.   Curious etchings hummed with the cold blue power of mägo enchantments.   Crap.   A Golem.   Turns out I was dealing with a mägo.  

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Day Nine: Swing

  What pattern?     Yeah, Wendell mention something like that to me once.     So should you, if you want to hear the rest this story.
Shut up and buy the next round...   When I came to, my wrists and ankles were shackled to a stone chair in the middle of a courtyard. The light was dim, the only source being torches hanging on the rough stone walls. In front of me loomed a set of haggard wooden doors. Things had to be thirty feet tall, at least. It wasn't that they were big that grabbed my attention, though--they were covered in words in a language I'd never seen.   "So glad you could join us, Daxänu," came Ademal's frail voice behind me.   My neck was too stiff to turn, so I didn't bother.   "I was about to have Bob give you a little wakey-wakey-shake, but the last prisoner he shook lost his head altogether." The little turd snickered at me.   "Yeah, thanks for not killing me and just using me as an emotional punching bag," I grumbled.   A swirl of smoke drifted across the sparse grass of the courtyard and Ademal took shape. He was even shorter than I thought, now we were at eye level--and he was still waving that pathetic wand.   "Oh, we are going to have SO much fun, you and I. Now that proof has been sent of your capture, we get to play!"   "Great," I scoffed, "Then go get yer dolls and teacups and we'll have a party."   With another wave of the can't-get-my-magic-up-without-a-focal-point stick, stone, dirt and grass bubbled up from the ground next to me, forming an elegant high-back chair. Ademal casually took a seat beside me, unperturbed.   "I'm glad you suggested having a party because you see up there?" he chimed, pointing overhead, "That's where I and my guests will be watching you during the competition."   I had to squint, but just beyond the haze of light, I could make out a stone lip overhead...and shadowy figures moving about. There wasn't enough light to discern any details, but there were beings there.   A lot of them.   "What competition?" I growled, letting my eyes fall upon the runt, my brows rolling forward. "Cause if you think I'm gonna..."   "Refuse?" Ademal cut me off, "Because you can just--port away?" He smiled then. For a little guy, it sure was creepy as hell. He held my gaze for a divers breath, either side of his mouth slowly slithering up his face. "Oh, I don't think you'll have much luck yet with your teleportation, Dax."   "Do I even know you? Cause you sound like someone I pissed off."   Nothing about him looked familiar. Not even his voice rang a bell--but he sure hated me. "Did I run off and leave you stuck with a bar tab, maybe? Cause ya know, I'd be pretty pi--"   "NO!" he snapped, sitting upright. Shoulders bouncing with his erratic breathing, I watched Ademal consciously force himself to calm down. "This isn't about something so trivial as a drinking bill"   I chuckled, "Yeah, not true. Cause if you've seen me drink, my tabs are closer to a national debt than trivial."   "My POINT, Daxänu," he grumbled, "is this little contest is to see just how remarkable you are WITHOUT your powers. WITHOUT the help of your precious friends and without ANYone to save your nasty, foul, inhuman butt from the natural consequences of your own actions."   "Yeah, like the natural consequence of being kidnapped, having my powers ripped form me and then being forced to engage in some psychopathic contest by a babbling moron..."   He started to do that tomato impression again.   "Wait, wait...did you just tell me my butt was out of this world?" I frowned at him, "Cause that's just sick, bub. You go ahead and torture me if ya gotta, but keep yer eyes to yerself, alright?"   A putrid green light shot from the end fo the gnomes pixie-stick.   The pain was...amazing.   I know, not the description you're probably looking for--but for all his mental shortcoming, that runt could dish out some serious hurt. The flood was instant and thorough. Every muscle in my body flexed at the same time, my teeth clamping together like a steel trap.   Trembling with convulsions, my body slid from the chair onto the ground.   Eyes as red as blood glared down at me with hatred and contempt I haven't seen since...well, probably the previous week.   Point is, he really looked upset.   "Do...not...mock...me," he whispered, and I watched a small dribble of spit slowly fall in a string from his bottom lip. "I am here to test your resolve to survive, you freak. Whether you choose to play or not is up to you. As for me--the more pain and greater failure I am allowed to witness, the happier I shall be. SO--"   The light vanished and my body relaxed.
I pulled myself up onto my elbows...and puked.   "Prepare yourself, Daxänu." Then looking upwards, "PREPARE FOR THE MAZE!"   That's when I heard them.
The unseen attendees burst into cheers.   When I looked up again, Ademal was gone...and the shackles fell from my wrists of their own accord.   "Complete the maze, Daxänu, and you will win your freedom!"   This whole situation was way out of my league. Ademal had his panties bunched so tight--I was sure he'd rip me to shreds with that pixie stick even if I DID complete whatever this contest was.   Tightening my hands into fists, I imagined Sanctuary clearly in my mind. Recalling the cool even temperature of the valley, the sound of birds singing and the sweet smell of plums, I willed my presence there.   Nothing happened.
No flash, no tingle down my spine...no, BAMPH!   Ademal's laughter filled the space between us, a desperate chill running wild up my spine. "I told you, Daxänu...teleportation is no longer an option."   I was screwed.   To make matters worse, the ground rumbled.   Those gigantic slabs of wood parted, scraping across dirt and grass.   Behind them, a series of hanging ropes dangled across a wide chasm. A glowing chasm, I might add.   "What the crap am I supposed to do NOW!?!" I screamed upward. "I ain't a monkey...no matter WHAT the old man may call me!!"   Another rumble erupted from behind me. A slab of stone pulling back into the wall.   ...followed by a thunderous roar.   Ademal continued to laugh.   "I suggest you SWING, Daxänu!"  

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Day Eleven: Snow

D iving into the darkness headfirst--I skidded, hit a bank and started falling. the hole turned out to be a tunnel, cold and dark--and I slid...well, more like rolled, down the shaft.   Why every place I go has to be so flipping dirty and unkempt, I'll never know. I think I hit a hundred or more spiderwebs on the way down.   The exit spat me outside, back into the winter storm.
At least that's what I thought it was at first.   Thing is, this time I could see above me.   A domed roof with stalactites hanging down. Fangs, ready to bite into prey.   So where was the snow coming from?   A heavy wind swirled the crystals about me as I rose to my feet.   Leg spasms sent me back to my knees.   As fast as I'd run, several projectiles had hit me. A small dagger jutted from my left shoulder, while two odd-looking barbs protruded from my right rib and hip.   The spasms increased, sending fire through the nerves of my shoulder and back, while my stomach lurched. I couldn't help but vomit into the white landscape.   The world swooned and swirled with the snowflakes.   Ya know, Chuck always says situations are a blessing in disguise. Doesn't matter what it is--if you're willing to look at it from another perspective, you can flip any situation into a positive advantage.     NOT A TOPIC I WANT TO DISCUSS, thank you.     *ahem* I meant I was covered in spiderwebs. Bunching the things up into a thick ball, I pulled the blade from my shoulder and shoved the silk into the wound. You know as I do that it stops the bleeding...     Crawling over to a large stone, I propped myself up to gather my breath.   As far as I could tell, the cavern was shaped like a boat. Oh don't look at me like that, Höbin--you're the writer, not me, so spruce this up if ya have to, but the damn thing DID look like a boat. Narrow at either end, wide in the middle. That's a BOAT.   I leaned against a single cluster of rocks, dead center between the two ends of the cavern.   One end had a giant open mouth, while the other side was completely covered with a thick weaving of vines. Leaves lush and green, seemingly giving a middle finger to the snow.   I wish I'd been tough enough to do the same.   Especially when the dragon started growling.  

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Day Thirteen: Ash

People have always underestimated my strength.   Always.   Especially when I'm ticked off.   I've shattered the main gate of Til-Thorin Keep with a single blow. Just ask the kid. So when I lunged through the air and socked Sparky in the kisser, I'm guessing Ademal wasn't expecting the front half of the dragon's muzzle to crack and completely fall off.     Well, I wasn't gonna punch it in the butt, now was I?   I just told you there were some specific clues.   Unlike most adventurers, I've been around great serpents. They make noise when they move, including a deep breath right before a belching flame.   This beast didn't make a sound.   Dragon flame is also so hot, it'll melt stone to molten lava, Höbin.   Crap, I could hardly feel the heat from behind the protective cover of the rocks--which should have been rendered to slag.   Lastly--that odd light in the cavern? It happened to be the magical glow from runes covering the dragon's neck and skull.   This wasn't a real dragon. It was another golem.     Exactly.   So when I punched the thing with everything I had, it cracked its hardened clay form. She flipped her head back and tried to bite me, but I'd jumped to another rock formation and was already lunging again through the air.   My second strike snapped its head in two.   The cavern erupted in yellow flame. Sparky reeled her head back, slamming its face against the stalactites. Not sure if golems are made with the ability to feel pain, but it sure looked like it. She bashed the ceiling of the cavern repeatedly, giving me enough time to sprint up its long body.   I slid behind the shell of her cranium and grabbed her secondary horns at the base of the creature's skull with both hands.   Ademal was turning out to be an amazing mägo...but one that underestimated angry Evolu.   Apparently he didn't know I'd been raised by the greatest mägo alive...and that included learning the basics of magic. Magical incantations, symbols AND animation, which included golems. That's what you get when your pop is the world Olen champion.   Sparky's body was one part of the enchantment, the flame was another. The magical flame this thing was unleashing against me, was held back, most likely, through specific runs engraved on the inside of the dragon's mouth.   ...without those magical symbols to keep the flame contained--it had to go somewhere.   So I simply grabbed those horns, held on for dear life, and pushed up with all my might. That forced Sparky's face at the opposite end of the cavern. It wasn't actually dragon fire--but it was hot enough to burn the dense foilage blocking my way out.   A few solid blasts and the vines were as good as ash.   With a way out, I just needed to end the dragon, before it could end me.   So I pulled.   Hard.   Over and over, Sparky rammed her head into the ceiling.   ...knocking the stalactites free.   Each scrape marred the glowing runes, breaking the enchantment...and Sparky went down.   Permanently.   It was official: Ademal was trying to kill me.   I don't LIKE people trying to kill me.   It ain't polite.   So I decided to return the sentiment.  

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Day Fifteen: Legend

    It's okay, Höbin.   Really.   S itting in that tunnel was a turning point for me--in more ways that one.   Chuck's always looked out for me.   He's defended me, protected me, taught me, and though I hadn't admitted it up to that point in my life--he loved me.   I was dropped off on the ol' coot's doorstep by the Wanderer with nothing more than a note and a dirty diaper. Yet that thousand-year-old bachelor set his life aside to become a father to an orphan--wrapping his world around me.   Who DOES that?     While shivering in the mud, I could hear his words reverberating in my mind. His unwavering conviction bolstering each word spoken:  

I don't give a cow nipple what other people think, Dax. You're MY boy. MY child.   MY pride and joy.  

So when people can't use their hearts to see you for who you truly are, you remember this:   You were not born to fail. You were built for success, Daxänu!   Yes, I'm calling you 'An Unsolvable Problem', because I believe your mother meant it as a problem OTHER people would never solve--not that you WERE a problem to be solved! You are a living contradiction, proving that it's the character of a being that matters, not his or her skin color, nationality or connections.   The universe doesn't make mistakes. It only creates opportunities for those WILLING to recognize them.   Opportunities to learn, try, fail, stumble, fall on your face..   ...and opportunities to pick yourself up.   To rise to greatness.   You wanted to know why I have so much confidence in you, Dax?   It's because I can see in you what you can't yet see in yourself.   Once you realize and accept that you are MORE than you THINK you are, nothing will stop you from becoming who you were meant to be.   A Legend.

    Yeah.     The unthinkable.
I decided to believe him.   Then I ripped the damn plants out by the roots.   ...cause I had an appointment with a nasty little gnome.  

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Day Seventeen: Ornament

I f I had to guess, I would say I climbed for hours. Then again, when you're exhausted and focused, overexertion can FEEL like hours. My mind started drifting at one point. Started wondering what I was doing, ...not only doing there but why was I exerting myself and using up my energy to get to who knows where?   When I finally pulled myself up over a nasty little ravine, I took a breather.   It was beautiful up on the hillsides. The breeze rolled over my skin, cooling me down from the intense exercise and before I knew it--looking out over this massive valley that just didn't make any sense at all, I drifted off to sleep.     I don't know about that, bud. Yeah, I was tired, but I was also feeling pretty good.
Calmer. More peaceful.   ...then I had a dream.   There was screamin' all around me. Fire, gunfire, roaring.     Never said the dream made sense, but yeah--there was gunfire. Now that I think of it--it reminds me of the Trench Wars competitions. S.L.A.G.G.E.R.S and the suits we wore during the competition. The roaring came from Vallen and other creatures that fought at their sides.   War. That's what I saw.     Strapped to some machine.   No, don't think about it--just hear me out, Höbin. I was in some machine, and it felt real. So real in fact, that I know it had to be some sign of the future.     Is it though?   Do you doubt anything Chuck tells you? No matter how looney he may sound--DO YOU DOUBT his word?     Well I saw the kid. Right there, in front of me, duking it out in hand to hand combat with that freak o' nature Mahan.     And my job was to do something with this machine I was stuck in. To...I don't know, OPEN it or something like that. It was supposed to help Wendell in his fight.     Nuthin'. Cause I woke up.     Yeah, some little rodent with big freakin teeth bit my dang toe and ran off. Drew blood, the little monster, so I got up and dashed after him. I was hungry after all--and that thing gave me an excuse.     Next thing I know, I'm jogging into a clearing and I find this glowing necklace hanging from a tree. It was an ornament with massive jewels--looked like opals, but purple. They were all held together by interwoven vines.     Phhhh! I ripped the blasted thing down and tossed it over my head.   ...I mean, it looked like it could pay for quite a few rounds of Blackseed Rum once I got home and hocked it.  

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Day Nineteen: Sling

W hatever race Yoma was, he had to be the runt.   That or Porka was a literal freak o'nature, cause that sucker was HUUUUUGE!   Guy had to be twelve to fifteen feet tall. If I could guess, he had to weight a good 500 pounds or more, with arms like tree trunks and massive lower canines that could probably flip a gnome motorized vehicle. Yeah, that big. Head the size of a watermelon, but a third of that face was the nose.     A nose that was sniffin' all around, and grumbling like a dog.   Thing is--I don't care HOW big you are when you're a bully.   You're still a bully.   ...and if I have ANYhting to say about it, you're still gonna get yer butt kicked.   Preferably with steel-toed boots.   "HEY PORK-BUTT!" I yelled, stepping away from Yoma, making motions for him to hide. "I think you n' me outta have a little talk!"   The laughter was unmistakable. The ground shook, his head went back and he actually did a Santa maneuver, holding his jiggling belly with both hands.   "Me no talk with bug," was his replay once his laughter died off. "Porka squish you, though!"   ...and that's when he lumbered towards me, ripping a small tree from the ground as he did so.     What can I say? People love me.   There wasn't anything around me I considered truly useful. Plus, picking up a stick and swinging it at the brute would probably just piss him off.     Hell no. I started tearing my boxer shorts.   I tore off a portion of my boxer shorts and created a crude SLING.     Oh yes I DID! ...and it was a good one too.
Porka-butt had it coming anyway. He reminded me of those amazing stories from Earth, where the little guy used a sling to fight the giant monster, and defeated him.     Naw, I've never heard that one--I'm talking about Trump and the Democrat.     Well, I took a page from that tale, grabbed a rock at my feet, put it in the sling and spun that sucker with all my might.   Then let it go.     ...Yoma never had to worry about Pork-butt again.    

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Day Twenty One: Treasure

T he path wound up around croppings of rocks, which continued to get bigger and bigger, the closer we got to the cave.   Not only that, but the smell in the air dramatically changed.       Yeah, the air smelled increasingly sour.   Yoma slowed his pace, but at this point, unless there was a Mrs. Pok-butt, I didn't care. That smell was the only thing in this whole adventure that smelled familiar to me, and I wanted to find out exactly what it was.     Better. I found a cave of unspeakable treasure.     *slurrrrrp*     The kind of treasure we're enjoying right now...     IT WAS BLACKSEED RUM!!!     Oh, come ON! It was an entire cave, as in a lifetime SUPPLY of Blackseed Rum.     HEY! I resemble that comment!!  

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Day Twenty Three: Ancient

D on't say anything about this Höbin.   No, seriously--shut yer mouth. Don't make a comment, reply--this is gonna be hard enough to admit without feedback.   That and I don't know how mad Chuck would be if he found out what happened next.   So the ghost-- Barron Ethnis-- leads me further into the cave, and he's being casual about it.   "Been waiting for you to show up, boy," he says to me.   Now, the whole experience was weird enough, but then to be told that I was expected?
Yeah, I'm not buying that part.   "You gotta have the wrong guy, pops..."   He stopped and raised a lazy eyebrow at me. "Pops?" he scoffed, "Well somebody's a cheeky little turd, now aren't they." He turned and kept walking. "I may get it wrong from time to time, boy, but you ain't one of them times.   "You're Daxänu of the Evolu, son of Alaria, the Omä-es." He stopped again, turning to me with a huge grin on his face. "Oh, I know most folk think you're the son of the Omathä, but we both know that's your grandmother's position, not your mothers. Your grandfather just couldn't bear to fill that position as the Law required, so he had your mother fill that royal position for the people."   Don't say it. I know.
Scared the hell out of me too. The old bugger knew things.   Secrets.   Then I saw it.   We walked around a bend in the cave, thousands of barrels of Blackseed Rum lining the walls and I skidded to a halt in my tracks.   At the very back of the cave, stood a massive statue, Höbin.   It had to be nearly a hundred feet tall. The head was up among the stalactites jutting out of the ceiling.   ...and it was Wendell.   Ah. Ah. AH!   No talking. I know. I know. How could it possibly be the kid?
I have no freakin' clue.   Now, I had no idea at the time who this person was, so it didn't matter. I just had to stand there and listen to the rambling drunk specter.   "There he is, Dax," which he said with a 'TA-DA!' kind of enthusiasm.
"There who is?"
"The hero."
I snorted. "What hero."
"THE hero, you slow-witted buffoon! THE hero that will come to save this world and everyone on it!!"
"...and you're telling me this...why?"
Barron rubbed the bridge of his node with his fingers. "BeCAUSE, you dolt--it's going to be YOUR responsibility to watch over him and make sure he doesn't get killed...or kill himself...before he learns the full powers of the Gem!"
"Gem. What gem?"
  That guy spinned on me faster than an addict playing a game of Bloodsticks.   "Doesn't that crusty old wizard teach you nuthin!??! The GEM. GEM! GEM! GEM! Ithari ...kept by the Iskari High Council?"   I grumbled and folded my arms, "Hey, don't talk about Morphiophelius that way...and yeah, he taught me about the lady-gem. Said someday someone would put the thing back on and fight Mahan once and for all."   "That's why he's still alive, yes," he cut me off. "And you're here to help THAT boy do the very same thing!"   I looked at the statue, then back at the ghost--who was hyperventilating at this point.

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Day Twenty Five: Tasty

Took me a few moments, but I got there.   As I struggled to get my feet squarely under me, the Barron kept shifting uncomfortably. His eyes darted between the huge slag of stone staring down at us and the barrels.   Yet he wouldn't look me in the eye.   "What's up old guy," I panted, trying to catch my breath.   That tiny interruption in my gut slithered its way to my lungs. A sharp pressure forcing the air from my lungs with a deep WEEEEEZE.   "You...don't look so hot, kiddo. Maybe you should take a rest."   I grunted, fingers turning lighter from gripping the barrel so hard. "Maybe you should tell me what's going on."   "I don't--," he started to say, but I shook my head.   "There are many things I've been accused of, Ethnis, but stupid ain't one o' them. You're looking like a kid who just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Spit it out."   "You wouldn't understand."   Pushing my knees to straighten my legs against the cool wood helped me stand upright. "Try me."   "It's time for you to go," he said in a perfectly sober tone.   "What, you gonna knock me off now?" I wanted to run, mind you--but my body felt so trampled, there was no way I could take more than a few steps, let alone escape where I found myself.   "No, no," he shook his head, "nothing like that. It's time for you to go back where you came from."   "I'm not starting this maze over again..."   Barron looked at me then. His eyes were cold. Not ghost cold--but cold-hearted. "You're not gettin' it, kid. This isn't real. None of it's real. It's time for you to wake up now. You're coming too close to the edge."   At the end of my grip, a clay mug appeared atop the barrel I was leaning against. I could smell the alcohol, mind you. That light, fermented scent of happiness filled my nostrils.   "Drink that," Barron said matter-of-factly. "It'll send you on your way." Then he winked at me, letting a sly grin escape his face. "And I have to say, the whole experience is nice going down."

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Day Twenty Seven: Coat

Not sure how long I was out.   Hours, maybe. Could have been days.   The first sensation was the feeling of something scratching my skin.   It was an incessant scratch against my shoulders and cheek. Fibers poking me over and over, a lot like when you rub the surface of your skin until it gets raw.   It made me twitch--and that's when I felt the heaviness. When I tried to move my head, it felt like a ton and I couldn't do much more than slightly roll my head on the surface beneath me.   Took me a while, but I got an eye open, then the other.   The clop-clop of the hooves of whatever beast pulled us along gave me something to focus on. A rhythm to help me center my attention and focus on sitting up.   I had a giant coat draped over me.   It was warm, but heavy. Made for a freakin giant by the size of the sleeves.   Near impossible for me to shift my arms or lift my chest off the surface.  

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Day Twenty Nine: Injured

I blinked the stars from my eyes and forced myself to sit upright against the side of the wagon.   My driver looked older than dirt, with a dingy yet nicely trimmed beard and mustache. I couldn't tell what he looked like from where I was sitting, but his voice was calm and kind.   "Where am I," I asked.   "About half a day's ride from Southshore," he replied.   It just didn't make any sense. When I'd started drinking, I had made sure I stayed close to Andilain, porting to an outlying village. What the crap was I doing two weeks ride south?   When I tried to shift in place, I flinched when my right hand griped the sidewall.   I think I actually yelped for the first time in my life.   Blasted hand was busted to crud.   "How did I get here?"   The driver snorted. "Hell if I know how you got here. I'm just a root farmer. Maybe you like the seaside?"   "I MEAN how did I get into your wagon," I snarled. Not the best idea, considering I was at this guys mercy at this point.   "Ah. I apologize. That would be me. I put you back there where I saw you wandering about, bleedin' and talking crazy." He paused, then, "I got me a boy that's...not quite right in the head. Sweet boy, but people don't act kindly towards him." Another pause. "Just didn't want no one to do more to you that what obviously already happened."   Felt a bit like a heel. "Whose coat is this?"   "That'd be mine also. You were shaking so badly, I thought you have to be cold, seeing as you were all naked and such."   Yup, a total heel. Here's a stranger, doesn't know me from Mahan and to make it worse, I ain't human--yet this guy picked me up to make sure no one abused me?   "Thanks."   His tone perked up. "Welcome! So where can I take you?"  

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Day Thirty One: Ripe

I had the farmer help me down to the ground, so I could go over and inspect the Captain.   The guards moved in front of me, spears and swords pointed.   "Woah, guys. I know, I know--I look like a vallen. I get that. Not true though. Birth defect. Was sick when I was a kid and it deformed me."   They stared at me without flinching.   I sighed. "Magical illness."   Weapons slowly lowered as gazes glanced at one another in confusion.   Oh don't look at me like that, Höbin. It's a hell of a lot easier to spew out a tiny lie if it'll help everyone else in the room deal with Mr. Handsome, alright?   I motioned to the Captain on the ground. "I wanted to check on your boss, if I may. I have some experience in healing magics."     Hey, it was simple in my mind--either the guy was dead, for which I would say was beyond my ability--OR he'd be wounded badly, to which I'd say he'd be fine and get away before anyone was the wiser.     Well, it worked, alright? Poor guy was sick as could be, but his breathing was solid and other than having one hell of a hangover, it looked like the guy would be alright.   The soldier in charge of sending Ademal off with his comrades asked, "Will he live?"   I nodded. "Keep an eye on him though---whatever Ademal was doing to us, it's nasty."   "Thank you, stranger. I'll make sure Captain Waylan is properly cared for. As for the prisoner, we found large portions of blackseed run tampered with at this tavern and two more further north over the past two weeks. Nearly a dozen villagers have been poisoned, including two deaths from the liquid." He politely motioned towards the tavern, and I followed him in.   "Just blackseed rum?" I asked.   "Aye. Seems this Ademal was tampering with its fermentation process, and distributing it before properly ripe. This has been causing intense hallucinations in those partaking of it." We sat down at a table in the far corner while the evening continued to bustle about in its regularly intoxicated fashion.   "How did you even know to check for something like that?"   "Excuse me?"   "Checking for contaminants and specifically in blackseed rum is awfully specific. I'm not trying to insult you here, but I've never known our soldiers to be the overly investigative type. That was usually left to the University of Magic or the Castle Guard."   He smiled at me, then waved the barmaid over. "True. But we received news from the capital that we were to watch for strange events at the local taverns and other watering holes. Apparently there's some famous wizard named Morphiophelius who lost his boy at one of the places. Seems he has friends in high places and has the military out on alert--both to catch whoever is hurting people and hopefully find his child."     Exactly.     Yeah. That's what went through my mind too. So I asked him, "How long ago did you get your orders?"   He pondered for a minute, then said, "Nearly three weeks."   I choked.   "Are you alright?" he asked. "If it wasn't for you just now, we'd still be looking for the villain who did this."   Had I been gone for a month? That's what rattled through my mind. The soldier chatted with the barmaid, but I didn't hear anything. My mind kept reeling, trying to trace the steps I'd never remember.   In the end, I'd been gone 31 days.   No trace of how, or where...   31 days missing from my life.     Nope. No clue.     Well the soldier was so grateful for my help, he did what any decent man would do for another.     He bought me a drink.

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