Chapter 3
Of Turkeys and Eagles
The lake and its surroundings vanished in
the blink of an eye. There was a brief
period of darkness, and then a bright light penetrated their vision. All of a sudden, an enormous plain splayed
out as far as they could see, golden and scintillating beneath a warm sun. Countless leagues ahead, a number of tiny towns
dotted the plain’s horizon. The most
prominent feature beyond them, however, was a solitary mountain stabbing up
from the baked land like a gray dagger.
Neither Jonathan nor Awana had seen a mountain of such girth, not even
in pictures or paintings. They felt as
if their hearts had dropped into their stomachs, for they had received the
sudden revelation that they were no longer on earth. This was a land unfamiliar to them, and they
began to think that letting go of the turkey might not have been such a bad
idea after all.
“Pumpkin,” Ghost called out, still dodging around the flock of
crazed birds. “Pumpkin, is this what I
think it is?”
“This is the Zedroc Plain!” shouted the squash. “We’re in Armenor!”
“Dang it, Johnny boy!” Awana whined. “Why didn’t you just let go of the
turkey? Don’t listen to me in the future,
OK?”
The young man looked at her, his face scrunched in annoyance. “Are you kidding me?”
He turned his attention to the horizon again when a turkey flew
into him and nearly caused him to release his grip. The wild creatures soared toward the distant
mountain with a renewed sense of purpose, carelessly running into each other
and flapping their wings faster than any winged creature should. The untarnished sky extended endlessly beyond
the mountain, shouldered by a strip of forest-green woodland that lay beyond
the plain. After a while, Jonathan
ventured a gaze to his left, and he saw the jagged crowns of hills that were as
black as night. They blocked his view of
any sort of land that might exist beyond them, for while they were only hills,
they reached as far as he could see.
Their bleak appearance was deeply unsettling.
“Those are the southern Shadow Hills that you see,” said Super
Pumpkin, and if he carried any fear, his voice did not betray it. “The color you see is not due to the stones
or soil, but Dragon scales that litter the slopes. An ancient war raged above these hills long
ago, and Dragons battled one another until scarcely any remained. Nowadays, you have a higher chance of seeing
a patch of snow in the plain below us than beholding a Dragon.”
“That’s very sad,” Awana replied, frowning.
“It is,” Jonathan agreed.
“You know what else is sad? My freakin’ arms are getting tired. Wherever these things are going, they better
get there soon.”
“Unfortunately, my young friend of unsavory appearance, I believe
that these creatures are heading for the mountain, Melonir, which you see ahead
of you. It is still far away, but something
calls them to it; I do not think it will take long for them to reach their
destination.”
“Unsavory appearance?” shouted Jonathan. “Listen here.
I will kick you in your eye, and then we’ll talk about who has an
unsavory appearance.”
“Not now, Johnny boy,” Awana mumbled soothingly to him. “Let the pompous jerk say what he wants to
say. Maybe he’ll say something helpful.”
“Doubtful, but fine, I’ll leave him alone.” Jonathan scanned the
horizon again, and shook his head when he found that they did not appear any
closer to the mountain. “This is going
to be really difficult. I don’t think I
can make it.”
“Of course you can!” the girl encouraged him. “Just think: we’ll reach the mountain because
you’re the toughest boy alive; we’ll find a way back home; and then we’ll eat
Thanksgiving dinner until we can barely move! By the time we get back, your mom
will have finished preparing all the food, including another turkey.”
“I think I’m done with turkey,” Jonathan muttered dryly. “These things just irritate me now.”
The leagues of land melted away beneath the swift flight of the
wild birds. The plain below was, as its
name denotes, rather plain; however, the group could often see leafless trees
and jagged stones protruding from the earth.
Sometimes, when the turkey would inadvertently fly nearer to the ground,
Jonathan and Awana would spot packs of elongated beasts roaming across the
land. Super Pumpkin and the others in
the group remained silent about the nature of these creatures. It was not until much later that Pumpkin
disclosed them to Jonathan: they were called Tainthounds, and were aptly named
because of the Dark Magic that flowed through their veins. This Dark Magic coagulated as poison around
their fangs, and it was said that the smallest bite would turn a victim to ash
in seconds. This fact, combined with the
unforgiving heat of the region, kept travelers and wanderers away. Indeed, besides the six Human cities located
in the northern reaches of the plain, this territory was not known for having
many settlements. The only other
humanoids in the area were Desert Gnomes; Jonathan and Awana saw their
sand-crafted dwellings popping up from the ground every now and then.
Though it felt like hours, it was only a matter of minutes before
they reached the foothills that rolled around the foot of the great
mountain. These hills were as bare and
dreary as the Zedroc Plain, but once the companions found the mountain’s slope
rising before them, they noticed a change in climate. At first, patches of grass spotted the steep,
bronze grade; then various trees and shrubs sprouted up and grass was no longer
a rare sight. As they approached the
peak, they began to see small ponds, brooks, and waterfalls. The crown of the mountain was near. Jonathan lifted his eyes and sighted a
grouping of huge, pointed stones standing in a circle around Melonir’s
peak. Some of the turkeys were winging
their way above the stones and then plummeting down, beyond his vision, into
the circle. Before his particular bird
could rise to that height, the boy lost all feeling in his arms, and his
strength left him. He was unpleasantly
surprised and terrified when he saw his hands still extended before him, clinging
to nothing but air. His heart jumped at
the premature end of his ascension, and he lost all hope of survival once he
began to plunge toward the mountainside.
A massive force bashed the ribs on his right side, and he might
have blacked out if his body had not hit a mass of ice-cold water. To say that he was disoriented would be an
understatement. He thrashed about in the
dark void, but he soon realized that he was upside-down in a deep, natural
pool. Above he could see a point of
light, so he swam toward it and managed to reach the surface. Mere yards to his right, a small shore edged
the pool; a couple feet beyond it, the land fell away into a sharp cliff. To his left there was not much of a shore; rather,
a slab of reddened earth—topped by many trees he had never seen before—climbed
up from the water’s edge. The trees
resembled the pine trees that were so common on earth, but their prickly leaves
were a reddish-orange. From one tree a
severely broken limb dangled, and Jonathan surmised that he had hit it in his
descent. Directly ahead of him, a
waterfall cascaded over mossy, layered stones and bludgeoned the water’s
surface repeatedly. He turned around and
noticed that there was a grassy area beyond the pool. Wincing from the pain he felt in his side, he
swam to shore and sat against a rock.
“Awana!” he shouted, scanning as much of the mountainside as he
could see. “Awana, are you there?”
There was no response. The
only thing he could remember about their fall was a release in pressure from his
legs; Awana had let go of him. He hugged
himself for warmth and called out until his voice was hoarse, but nothing
stirred in the area around him.
“I hope she’s OK,” he muttered to himself. “She has to be OK.”
He was stunned by how little he was thinking of himself. Even with the recurring pang in his ribs and
the cold air licking his moist skin, all he could think of was Awana. A deep melancholy filled his heart. He had cared for her for as long as he had
known her; but now, as he feared for her life in a foreign world, he began to
understand the depths of that care. He
was still young, and these untamed and inconsistent feelings were mostly
incomprehensible. Recent events proved
that she could fend for herself, but for the first time in his life, Jonathan
felt that it was somehow his duty to
protect and help her. His melancholy
transformed into frustration; now that he actually felt responsible for this
girl, it was likely that she was dead.
Dead. The word stabbed at his
heart like the sharpest knife. He could
not imagine Awana being anywhere except near him, but now she could be
gone. He began to weep.
He could not say how long he sat there, his knees scrunched
against his body and his head buried in his crossed arms as he wept. After what he felt was maybe fifteen minutes,
he looked up with a fierce and wild flame in his eyes.
“M.D., whoever the heck you are, I will kill you!” he
declared. “I killed Apo, and you’re
next! And if there is someone above you,
that person is as good as dead, too!” He wiped away his tears and rose to his
feet, weak and shivering. Then he pulled
Ms. Unicorn from his pocket and looked at her.
“I love you, girl, but I don’t know how useful you’ll be in this
world. I wish I had a sword or
something. Maybe a bazooka.”
She said nothing, which was quite unusual. Jonathan tried to start a conversation with
her, but she did not respond. He gritted
his teeth. “What does this mean?” he
asked himself nervously. He could not
answer the question at this time, so he proceeded to pace around the area and
plan his next move. It would probably be
best if he made his way to the peak of the mountain. His body was injured and tired, but he
believed that he had enough energy to reach the summit. And once he had, he—but something interrupted
his thoughts. There was a loud rustling
coming from the trees. He backed up
against a boulder and dropped into a fighting stance. The rustling grew louder; it was coming
closer. He had no idea what to
expect. Kory was quite…unique, and he
tended to place strange and dreadful creatures in the worlds he created. The chances were high that this was some foul
beast recently risen from the abyss, come to the world of Armenor to wreak
havoc on anything in sight. With one
look, Jonathan thought, it could turn him to stone—or worse. He clutched Ms. Unicorn tightly. The fiend was now near the edge of the water,
though he could not make it out beneath the shadows of the trees. With a mighty yell, he pitched the toy
unicorn with inhuman precision and hit the figure as it burst from the shadows. There was a high-pitch squawk. Awana Humphfree, incapacitated, rolled off
the edge of the sloped forest and into the pool.
“Awana!” Jonathan screamed.
He rushed forward and leapt into the water. Within seconds, he emerged with one of his
arms around the girl, and he paddled back to shore with the other. He placed her against a rock, and though she
was conscious, she was quite dazed.
“Johnny boy, you saved me,” she said with a slurred voice. “But I have to say, right now, you kind of
look like a huge, flaming bird.”
“I guess I did hit you
pretty hard with Ms. Unicorn,” he said mournfully. “I’m sorry about that.”
“It’s ok, Mr. Bird,” the girl answered. “You’re a bird. And you’re so brave.”
Jonathan smiled and wrapped Awana in a tight hug. “I’m so glad you’re all right. I thought you were dead. I was really scared.”
“You don’t have to worry about me, Johnny-bird-man.” Awana beamed
widely. “I’m a-OK. I’m going to sleep now.”
“No, no sleeping!” Jonathan demanded, holding her face with both
hands. “We need to get moving,
Awana. Come on, let’s get you up.”
She shook her head and blinked a few times, then looked at him
closely as he lifted her to her feet.
“Johnny boy, were you crying?”
He turned his face from her.
“Of course not! My face is just wet from the water, when I saved you.”
Awana grinned at him. “Oh,
you can’t fool me! You thought I was dead, and you started crying! I’ve never
been this happy!”
The boy tried to avoid smiling, but did a poor job. “Awana, come on, let’s go. I’m glad you’re ok, but we need to find
Pumpkin and Ghost. And we really need to
figure out what the heck those turkeys are doing.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” She took a step forward. “We need to head to the summit.”
Jonathan led her toward the forest, and he quickly scaled the long
slab of earth along the left side of the pool.
Awana, weary and still clearly dazed to some degree, had some difficulty
with this task. The boy offered his hand
to her, and with one motion she took it and bounded up to him. Together, they marched up the steep terrain
and aimed for the highest point they could see.
Jonathan scooped up Ms. Unicorn along the way, dusted her off, and put
her back in his pocket. With every step
they took, the fallen leaves of the trees crunched beneath their feet. The scent of the forest reminded them of
pine, but much stronger and somehow sweeter.
They were silent for some time.
Jonathan was trying to process all of his thoughts about the journey and
his feelings about Awana; Awana was doing her best to remember that the boy she
was following was, indeed, the boy she cared for, and not a heroic, flaming
bird.
Once their minds had cleared, Jonathan asked, “So what happened to
you when we fell?”
“Well, obviously, I was pretty surprised when we weren’t going up anymore,” she responded. “Yeah, that was fun. But I just felt hopeless for a moment. I thought it was over. Without another thought, I just let go and
let myself fall. There was nothing else
to do, really. I assumed that I would
fall for a long time, hit something, and that’d be the end of it. But almost immediately, I smacked into some
conveniently soft bushes. It turns out
that some kind of stream was above them, because water was flowing beneath the
bushes and creating really deep and soft mud.
I rolled out of the bushes, down a slope of that thick mud, and into a
tiny valley with a creek. I really
couldn’t have wished for a softer landing.
What about you?”
Jonathan made a face at her.
“You’re lucky. I hit a tree.”
“Ouch. Sounds like a bad
day.”
“It could be worse,” he said to her, his voice welling with
emotion. “I really thought I lost you
today. I was convinced for a while that
I’d never see you again.”
Awana frowned. “You thought
you’d never see me again?”
“Yeah.”
“Why did you think that?”
He looked at her quizzically.
“Because I thought you were dead.
If you were dead, I’d never see you again.”
She placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Jonathan, I need to tell you a secret.” Then she whispered into his
ear, “Death isn’t necessarily the end.”
He raised an eyebrow at her.
“What do you mean?”
“I just think there’s more to it than that,” she replied. “You really think that everything we are
stops existing in the blink of an eye?”
She smiled at him. “But you know,
we should talk about this later. This is
a serious topic, and we just entered a different world on the butt of a flying
turkey. Let’s save it for another time!”
“Ok, then!” said Jonathan with a laugh. “I’m just glad you’re OK, Awana.”
“I’m glad you’re OK,
Johnny boy.”
They walked in silence for a few more minutes. Then they both lifted their eyes and saw that
they had almost reached the peak of the mountain. The massive, pointed stones curved toward the
center of the summit; where one stone ended, another rose up a few feet next to
it. Jonathan hiked up the rest of the
way ahead of Awana and touched one of the stones. Peering around the corner, he noticed that
the peak—a few hundred feet wide—was completely flat, and that the hard soil of
the mountain served as a sort of floor or stage. Turkeys stood wing-to-wing, in a circle, and
it seemed as if they were singing. Indeed, they were gobbling in one accord, and
swaying at arbitrary moments as if there were some sort of song unheard by the
human ear. In the center of their circle
was a giant black cauldron, much like the one in Professor Aponowatsomidichloron’s lab. The only difference was that, instead of
containing an orange liquid, this cauldron contained a purple concoction. It bubbled and hissed, and hissed and
bubbled, and the turkeys gobbled maniacally around it. To the far left, which Jonathan managed to
deduce was south, a brown building was raised above the ground and backed
against one of the large stones. Curved
staircases rose up from the ground on two of its sides and led to open doorways
on its left and right walls. In the
center wall, facing the cauldron, was a window without glass. Behind it stood a
figure, watching as events transpired.
No comments:
Post a Comment