Author: Tower Curator

004.003

Posted on by Tower Curator

<– Back | Index | Next –>

Leaving Teneville

Back to Teneville

While Alyssa had discovered that she really didn’t care for the company of angels no matter the color of their clothes, there was one unfortunate fact about missing out on Iosefael carrying, or magicking, her around the world. She had to pass through Teneville. Well, she didn’t have to. She could have gone around. But that would have added both time and discomfort to her trip.

For the last week, Alyssa had been living out of her home, eating proper food, enjoying the regulated temperature, regular bathing, and her soft bed. She hadn’t been sure what she had wanted to do. Home had a lot of comforts. Comforts she was reluctant to leave behind. But staying behind was stagnant. It was essentially saying that she was alright with whatever Tenebrael had planned for her. Worse, Iosefael knew where she lived and, as much as she hated to admit it, Iosefael might be the more dangerous of the two angels. If the golden-winged angel found some way to send her home, she would probably wind up dead. Tenebrael, though she had tried to kill her the night of the robbery, ended up keeping her alive, even if she was stuck in this strange world.

So she decided to leave. The last few days, she had been doing research. Since her internet connection still worked at home despite being a world away, she had looked up a great deal on medieval society, living conditions, and so on. It might not accurately reflect the state of this world given the apparent existence of magic, but she was hoping that it would be close enough that she wouldn’t be wandering around completely blind.

In addition to her survival gear, Alyssa had packed a number of extras. Mostly things that she thought she might be able to sell and wouldn’t miss should she need to return home. The entire spice cupboard was sitting in the top of her pack along with several printed copies of Aziz’ map. Both should fetch a good price, though she was planning on waiting with them until she learned a little more about this world to avoid being severely ripped off in her ignorance.

Unfortunately, yet expectedly, searching up maps only returned Earth. Her Earth. Or fantasy maps, but every wannabe writer and tabletop game master had created detailed maps of their own worlds. Looking through all of them to see if Aziz’s map matched one would be nothing more than an exercise in futility. As such, she not only needed to return to Teneville because it was directly on the way to the mountain pass leading to Lyria, but she wanted to pick Yzhemal’s mind on what she could expect from traveling. Aside from the apparent harpies.

Actually walking through the town, she wasn’t so sure about her decision.

The place was empty. Completely vacant. If it weren’t for having passed a dozen or so farmers out toiling in the fields, she might have thought that something terrible had happened. Gone were all the merry visitors. The bonfire in the central square was nowhere to be found, though there was a small and still lit fire pit in its place. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t spot Lazhar with his ale cart anywhere around.

Alyssa made her way to the inn. She really didn’t know where else to go. The temple was right out. Perhaps the brewery would be an option. Apart from the brothers and Aziz, she really hadn’t made any acquaintances within the town.

Shrugging off her pack in the entryway, she stared over the tavern. All the tables were empty. Yzhemal wasn’t at his usual place behind the counter. Where once stood groups of people drinking, eating, and laughing, nobody existed. It was just getting to be evening, so it wasn’t like the customers would still be asleep in their rooms.

A thud echoing out from the back room stole Alyssa’s attention. Someone or something was here, back in the kitchen area. Keeping her hand on the grip of her holstered pistol, she walked forward and around the counter. The door swung open on its iron hinges with only a light press, creaking as it moved. Darkness filled the kitchen. The door in the back was shut to the point where only a little of the evening light sneaked through the cracks. Aside from that, there wasn’t even a candle burning. None of the cooking fires were lit.

Everything that needed heating was heated over an open flame. For that reason, most of the room had been constructed out of stone. Ale barrels lined the opposite wall. Some strongly alcoholic, others weak. The weak barrels were for children and people who just wanted to hydrate themselves without getting inebriated while the strong were purely for recreation. Water simply wasn’t as safe to drink for the most part in medieval ages, according to the internet. The brewing process mostly sterilized contaminants that were present in the water.

Not that the people around here knew that. They just knew that people tended to get sick when they drank water and never got sick on an ale diet. If Alyssa ended up having to live in this world for any length of time, she might try starting some technological revolutions. To that end, she had printed out a few Time Traveler’s Cheat Sheets with quick facts regarding flight, technology, health, chemistry, and other things. Although, it was entirely possible that magic would have replaced a portion of the contents in this world.

Which was another reason she had decided to come back to the brothers before setting off. If only they were around. The noise she had heard must have been the door closing. Perhaps Yzhemal had been heading out to properly muck the stalls.

Lightning raced through Alyssa’s veins as a hand clasped down on her shoulder. Spinning, she drew her pistol, flicked off the safety, and kept her finger off the trigger.

“Most guests wait at the counter,” Yzhemal grunted out, taking a step away from her.

Alyssa, after making sure it really was the innkeeper’s scraggly beard in the darkness, let out a long sigh as she holstered her gun. “Don’t scare me like that.”

“Oh, you again lass.” His eyes, though hard to see in the dark, followed her hands down to her side until she had snapped the button shut. “Sorry, I’ve got no job for you now that the festival is done with. Not enough customers.”

“You’re telling me,” she said, allowing herself to be led back out into the main tavern room. It was better lit than the back with its three windows fully open. The light wouldn’t stay that way for long though, the sun was nearing the rings of the planet, about to dip down below the horizon for the night. “The tavern is empty, as are the streets. I thought something bad happened.”

“It’s like this every year. The visitors all leave. The town goes back to work. Fields need tending, animals need herding, lumber needs chopping, carpentry needs carpentering, and so on. Can’t have a big party every night.” He sat Alyssa down at the counter and gave her a long look. “If you’re wanting work, one of them will hire you, I’m sure. If you’re wanting a room, it’ll cost you.”

Alyssa jumped to her feet. “I do want a room, but I actually have a… deal to propose,” she said as she ran across the room to grab her backpack.

“Bargaining for a room? I normally deal in coins only.”

For some reason, the people around here called them coins even though they were bars. Just another nuance that she didn’t quite get.

“I have two things for you. The first is a meal! You were complaining about my reaction to your food, so I thought I’d bring something from my home. Lands. My homelands.” She pulled out a package of ground beef. It had been sitting in the freezer until she left. The warmth of the day had thawed it, maybe a bit too much, but it would probably still be good to eat. That, along with a few buns, some packets of ketchup from a fast food place, lettuce, and a few tomatoes that had been in her fridge, would make a fairly good hamburger. “I’m going to need your kitchen though. Just a fire and a small table space to prepare.”

“You’re trying to buy a room with food.”

“Not just any food. Exotic foods from a distant land, filled with tastes you’ll probably never taste again.”

Honestly, Alyssa was looking forward to the meal more than he should be. Unless she found a very strange corner of the world, this would probably be the last she tasted of Earth food. Proper Earth food, anyway. She still had an assortment of emergency travel rations such as granola bars and a few military rations pulled from her family’s food storage. Even if she came back to her home again, plenty of things would be going rotten. She had thrown a bunch of food into the freezer in an attempt to preserve them just in case she did return. That was unfortunately limited by space.

She continued pulling out everything she needed and got to placing them on the table, ignoring the dour expression on Yzhemal’s face.

“You’re not going to give me a choice in this, are you?”

Alyssa paused to glance at him. “I’m going to cook some for me no matter what. If you can manage to resist the delicious aroma, you’re welcome to skip eating.”

His beady eyes narrowed for one moment before rolling around in his skull. “I’ll go get the fire running.”

“Oh, I wanted to watch you start the fire. If you don’t mind.” Over the past three days, the fire hadn’t gone out even once. Either she or Yzhemal got up at varying points throughout the night and threw more wood on. “Just in case it was different from how we do it back home.”

“Start a fire?” he asked, turning towards her with an eyebrow raised. “I’m going to grab a log from the fire pit in the center of town. We keep it going specifically to avoid having to start fires.”

“But… what do you do if it goes out?”

“Hope someone has a flame already lit in their homes.”

Alyssa blinked at that. Surely just lighting a fire anew was easier than figuring out who had one going. “How would you start a fire from nothing if there were no already lit flames in the near vicinity?”

“I would consider ourselves lucky that my brother has some skill in basic magic. Not enough to be called an arcanist, but enough to light a simple fire.”

“Magic can’t have a monopoly on fire starting,” Alyssa said in a flat tone of voice. She couldn’t help it. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “What about flint and steel? Magnesium? Even just rubbing two sticks together…” A look from Yzhemal had Alyssa trailing off. It wasn’t a hostile look. He wasn’t angry that she was speaking blasphemy or anything similar. It was a look of confusion. As if she were suddenly speaking in a strange language. Maybe magnesium was a word they didn’t have, but rubbing two sticks together?

Something told her that starting a proper industrial revolution might be slightly more difficult than she had originally thought.

<– Back | Index | Next –>

004.002

Posted on by Tower Curator

<– Back | Index | Next –>

Leaving Teneville

Another Angel

“You’re Alyssa Meadows?”

Alyssa stared at the angel, wondering how she should act. If she was anything like Tenebrael, a bat wasn’t going to do much good. Neither would a gun. However, Tenebrael was clearly the evil twin of the two, what with her dressing in all black and taking people’s souls. So, deciding to be mildly hospitable, she lowered the bat and nodded her head.

Radiance beamed from the angel’s sudden smile as her wings carried her right in front of Alyssa, definitely breaking the boundaries of personal space. She gripped Alyssa’s hand and held it against her uncomfortably warm chest. “I finally found you! I’ve been searching for you everywhere. Absolutely everywhere! I thought you were still on Earth. But then I saw Tene leave and I followed after her on a hunch. And here you are! You’re not supposed to be here, you know?”

As she spoke, the overexcited angel bounced up and down on her heels. Or maybe that was her wings. Alyssa didn’t pay her much attention. One word in the angel’s exclamation stuck out to her.

“You’re from Earth.”

“Oh yes,” she said, hopping back and releasing Alyssa’s hand to give a slight bow. “Principality Iosefael. I’ve never really introduced myself to a human before. Well, you humans always say that experience is the best teacher! I guess you could say that I’m in charge of—”

“You can take me home?” Alyssa said, completely forgetting about her plans to travel to Lyria, or Teneville, or even Tenebrael. “You’ll take me home, right?”

“Certainly. You’re not supposed to be here. A fish out of water, you are. Your very presence will mess up a whole lot of things. Like Earth! Tenebrael has been going around causing so much havoc. She’s not supposed to be there and look what has happened. I tried to stop her, but then she just—”

Alyssa clapped her hands onto the Iosefael’s shoulders, letting the metal bat fall to the ground with a clatter. “That’s great and all, but take me home. Then you can tell me all your stories about how terrible Tenebrael is.”

She blinked her eyes. Weird eyes, Alyssa noted. While Tenebrael’s eyes glowed a bright white and had no irises or pupils to speak of, this angel’s eyes were green—maybe slightly larger irises than a normal person’s were. But her pupils were in the shape of an equal cross. No black dot in the center, just a dark vertical line crossed with a dark horizontal line.

“Right,” Iosefael said. “Of course. One moment.” She lifted her gloved hand high above her head. It shined with a brilliant light, though not quite as bright as Tenebrael’s halo had been during the ceremony. “I, Principality Iosefael, by the authority granted to me to oversee matters on Earth, hereby send one Alyssa Meadows back to the world in which she belongs! Confirming Earth’s existence. Earth confirmed. Beginning—”

The light of her glove wound all the way up the spiral of gold to her elbow where it flashed and died out.

And then…

Alyssa glanced around. Nothing had changed. But the house was from Earth anyway. She took a few quick steps back into her brother’s room and looked out the window.

Green grassy hills stretched all the way to the rings reaching high over the horizon.

“I don’t think it worked,” Alyssa said, trying to keep her tone of voice light. Surely the angel was just a little rusty. How many times did humans get sent to alternate universes anyway? Probably not all that often.

The angel, who had followed her into the room, wasn’t looking quite so radiant anymore. Her smile was barely a sliver of parted lips and her wings had drooped behind her.

“Alyssa Meadows,” Iosefael shouted again, pointing her finger straight up. “Thee, who have been displaced from thine proper existence—”

The light in her glove died off before she had even finished whatever she was trying to say.

As Iosefael stared at her hand in absolute shock, Alyssa felt the last bit of elation die away. She turned and sat down on the bed again. A multi-tool? Yeah, that seemed like a good thing to pack away for her trip. Alyssa pretended not to hear the angel’s continued attempts to send her back. The words changed every time; sometimes a different order, sometimes with entirely new phrases. She mumbled something about calculations and confirming that Earth still existed as well. Yet every time the angel finished—something she only managed a fourth of the time—Alyssa looked up to the window to find the scenery unchanged.

By the twentieth time, Alyssa had enough. She looked up at the angel and just sighed. “You’re really bad at this, aren’t you.”

“That’s not fair. This should work. I don’t understand.” Iosefael leaned in far too close as she stared with her odd eyes. “You are from Earth, right? Not some other Alyssa Meadows.”

“I am Alyssa Meadows and I’m from a place the people of Earth called Earth. Maybe you’re mixed up over which Earths?”

“No, no,” she hummed as she turned away, crossing her arms in a huff. “There’s only one Earth.” Her eyes shifted around the room, scanning over various objects until she came to a rest on the backpack that Alyssa was slowly filling with supplies.

It was about time to change rooms. She wanted to get at least a few changes of clothes from her room. The most rugged clothes she could find. Maybe digging through her mother’s old military gear wouldn’t be a bad idea either. She had to have some Army boots around. It might even be worth it to pack a dress or two. Not to wear, but surely there was some noble in the city willing to pay a fortune for ‘a fanciful dress from a distant land’ or some other nonsense she could make up then.

She would pack those last and only take them if they fit in.

“The house!” the angel half-shouted, snapping her metal gauntlet. “Of course! Tenebrael probably brought it here for a reason. I bet if I send it back—”

Alyssa jumped up and grabbed Iosefael’s hand before she could thrust it into the air. She leaned in close to the startled angel and spoke in a low, dangerous voice. “If you make this house disappear and leave me stranded without any modern equipment, I will be extremely cross. I don’t know if I can hurt an angel, but I will try my best to find a way.”

Iosefael backed away a single step when Alyssa let go of her hand. Her eyes held just a thin glaze of tears.

Yet Alyssa didn’t feel guilty in the slightest. Between having a useless angel happy with her or having modern equipment in a medieval age, she would select the latter every single time. So she simply sat down and continued her work. But only after ensuring that the angel wasn’t about to try sending away the house the moment Alyssa turned her gaze away.

“What are you doing?” Iosefael asked after a few minutes of watching, sitting down on the bed with her legs crossed beneath her.

“Packing. Isn’t it obvious?”

“But for what?”

“I need supplies. There’s a city somewhere to the north and I intend to visit.”

“You what?” She floated to her feet, wings quivering in agitation. “You can’t visit places! You’re lucky you wound up in the middle of nowhere! What if you accidentally interact with someone?”

“Too late,” Alyssa said without looking up. “Already found a town. Worked as an innkeeper for a few days. Talked to a number of people.”

Ignoring the strangled sound from the angel, Alyssa stood and put on the backpack, testing its weight. It was actually fairly light. Her muscles didn’t strain much more than they had while picking up her other backpack, and she had already transfered the contents—save for Aziz’s gear, which she was still not sure what she was going to do with. Part of that was probably not that it weighed the same, but simply because of the straps; The hiking backpack had more of a harness than just the two simple shoulder straps, so more of her body was supporting it.

The tent had come with the backpack and had its own little spot to hang from the bottom, but after walking around the room for three steps, Alyssa had already tired of it slapping her in the butt. An extra strap to tie it to the top of the bag would solve that problem. She’d have to remember to grab a belt and strap it on before she left.

Otherwise satisfied with the current state, she moved down to her parents’ room, skipping over her own clothing for the moment in the hopes of finding decent gear among her mother’s effects.

The closet smelled like bleach—she might have used a bit too much—but that was only a temporary discomfort compared to what the wilderness might be without proper preparation. Before even looking at the clothing, she crossed straight to the far wall and reopened the gun safe. She took every box of ammunition that fit her pistols and didn’t stop there. They had a revolver with a separate caliber of bullets which Alyssa neatly packed into the backpack.

“You’re not going to kill anyone, are you?” The angel, who had floated after her with a far more lethargic air about her than when they had first met, stared at all the equipment she was packing with wary eyes.

“Not planning on it,” Alyssa said as she moved back to the gun safe. “Only if people attack me first.” She stopped, eying the shotguns and the rifles. Both could be useful in different ways. She had never fired either before, only the pistols, but it couldn’t be that difficult. The biggest problem was the ammunition. Just counting what she had packed already, it had nearly doubled the weight of the backpack. Bullets weren’t light. Guns even less so. Taking both could be difficult.

“This seems excessive for self-protection,” the angel said, picking up the revolver with two fingers and an expression on her face like it had personally insulted her mother.

“Apparently this world is filled with beasts, monsters, and harpies.” Alyssa picked up the shotgun, testing its weight. “So far, all the people I’ve met have been friendly. Relatively so. It’s not them I’m worried about.”

“Harpies?” Iosefael scoffed. “This world is old enough to be out of the Age of Legends. I still remember the day it was created and Tenebrael came to tell me about being selected as its Dominion. That was a long time ago. Any monsters left over should all be extinct.” She fluttered over to the window and stared outside.

“That’s just what I heard,” she said, exchanging the shotgun for the rifle and bringing it up to her shoulder to peer down the sight. She kept it aimed away from the angel at the window, watching the digital clock on the bedside table instead. Doing so didn’t really help her much. She couldn’t get a feel for the gun or which was better. Just as she replaced it on the rack, Iosefael turned around with a startled gasp.

“What is going on? This world is all wrong. What have you done, Tene?”

The more she spoke, the less confidence she inspired in Alyssa. It was enough to have Alyssa turning to face her with a deep frown on her face. Though, watching her, an idea started to form.

“Say, Iosefael, what are you planning to do now that you can’t send me home?”

“I…” Her instant response died off as she slumped, mumbling to herself about Tenebrael. But her slump didn’t last long. She squared her shoulders and puffed out her chest—pressing it further against the golden bonds that held it in place. “I can’t stay here. Tene is making a mess on Earth and no one is going to stop her but me. Or, I hope no one is going to stop her. If they do…” Her eyes shifted away from Alyssa as she started rubbing her hands together.

Well there went that idea. She had been considering having the useless angel lessen her ineptitude by a small margin through the selfless act of carrying a duffel bag full of weapons. Alyssa had a whole excuse prepared about how Iosefael needed to follow her around because she might otherwise get into all sorts of trouble. Still, maybe she could get something else out of it. “I don’t suppose you could like… carry me off to the city? Just before you go. As an apology for Tenebrael or something.”

The angel narrowed her eyes. “If you leave, you’re going to interact with things and mess things up.”

“You said it yourself. This world is already messed up.” Alyssa wasn’t really sure about the context behind the world’s status. It almost sounded like they were talking about fate, or something similar. Fate obviously didn’t exist. If it did, she would have been unable to survive her apparent schedule with death. “Besides, the food here won’t last forever. I’ll starve if I never leave.”

Iosefael shifted, moving her weight from foot to foot, suddenly looking distinctly uncomfortable. “You’re not supposed to be alive anyway. I don’t know how you’re alive, but I suspect Tene—”

“Was that it then?” Alyssa said, voice icy cold. “You were going to take me back to my Earth and then kill me? To correct some ledgers?”

“Of-Of course not! An angel cannot directly harm a mortal! It is forbidden!”

“Perhaps indirectly then? Perhaps you were going to have someone suffer from a bout of divine inspiration?” she said, using Tenebrael’s words from the night she had appeared. The useless angel didn’t respond, continuing to look uncomfortable and refusing to look Alyssa in the eyes. “Get out,” she said, voice coming out as a hissed whisper. When the angel looked up with tears in her eyes but didn’t move, Alyss repeated herself, shouting. “Get out!”

“It’s just the way things are,” Iosefael said, crestfallen as she looked to the floor. “The way things have to be. Nothing personal.”

Alyssa leveled the shotgun in her hands at the angel. She doubted it would do much—especially in its current unloaded state—but she was too angry to care. It got results. Nothing to complain about that. While she had expected the angel to disappear in a flurry of molted feathers as Tenebrael had, Iosefael’s slow backing away worked just as well. She walked out of the room, down the hall, paused at the entrance threshold to look up and stare at Alyssa. With a sad shake of her head, she flapped her wings and vanished through the open entrance.

Marching up in her wake, Alyssa slammed the front door shut. A few bits of already broken glass came loose and clattered to the floor. Alyssa just stared at them with a sick feeling in her stomach. Apparently, not only could angels not be relied on to be reliable, but at least one wanted her dead, even if she had been… nice about it. The fact that Tenebrael had not arranged it so that Alyssa would find herself waking up dead might ironically mean that she was the lesser of the evils, though trusting that to hold for any length of time was a foolish idea.

Unfortunately, Alyssa was left back where she had started. It looked like she would have to travel the hard way.

<– Back | Index | Next –>

004.001

Posted on by Tower Curator

<– Back | Index | Next –>

Leaving Teneville

Home Sweet Home

Home sweet home.

Sort of.

Seeing it surrounded by grass with the wooden fence cut off a few feet away from the walls in a perfectly smooth line gave it an uncanny feeling. Even more eerie, it felt empty. Alyssa hadn’t gone inside yet, but just looking at it from where the street should be, it held an air about it like it was lost to time. Though it was actually from the future, relative to the technology level she had seen anyway.

It was a shame the driveway had been left behind. Since both of her parents had been gone, both their cars were gone as well. Alyssa’s pickup had been parked outside the garage in its usual spot at the end of the driveway. A sharp line in the cement halfway there mirrored the smooth surfaces of the cut off fence. The truck would have been handy. Depending on the scale of the map Aziz had given her—if it even had proper scaling—she probably could have driven to Lyria in no more than three days at a sedate and careful pace. At the very least, she could have taken it to the mountains on the other side of Teneville. The terrain, though hilly, was smooth enough for a vehicle.

Wishing was all well and good, but it neither changed anything nor helped get her moving. So, with a sigh, Alyssa walked up to the front door and walked inside. She hadn’t locked it before she left—with the window broken, it wouldn’t have stopped anyone from getting in. Actually, she was hoping that Tenebrael would have done something to hide it from others. Though that might be a bit much to hope for from such a horrible being.

Alyssa felt the cool air-conditioned air before anything else. She almost started enjoying it as a welcome change from the heat of the day. Breathing in the air crushed her enjoyment to dust.

Choking down a gasp, Alyssa clasped the sleeve of her jacket over her mouth.

The rank smell of rotting meat burned at her nose. She gagged, turning back to the fresh outside air.

How could she have forgotten? Two dead bodies—Two people that she had killed. And she had just left them lying around. To be fair, she hadn’t planned on running off and spending three days in a village. Her short journey away from home had been solely intended to get a lay of the land. She had gotten all that and more.

But at a cost.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped back into the house. She couldn’t hold it forever. By the time she made it down the hallway to her parents’ bedroom, she had to breathe through her mouth. First thing first, she opened a few windows. Second, she peered down into the walk-in closet.

The body sat slumped against the wall, just as she had left it. Except the skin had taken on a sickly gangrenous pallor. Not really rotted out just yet, but it was getting there. Then there were the flies. Hundreds of them buzzed around the corpse. It sounded like an angry swarm of bees.

Alyssa ran to the bathroom. Strangely enough, she wasn’t feeling half as ill as she had the day she arrived in this strange world despite the condition of the body being far worse. Rather than empty her latest meal into the toilet, she threw open the closet. From the bathroom cleaning supplies, she pulled out bright yellow rubber gloves. Before putting them on, she glanced down at herself.

In a flash, she stripped out of her clothes, threw them into the washing machine, changed into her sports bra and workout pants, and wrapped a few towels around herself. It was strange that the washing machine worked—or any appliance really—but Alyssa wasn’t going to question her luck. Instead, she put on the gloves and went back to the closet.

“Sorry about this,” she mumbled as she reached down. Gripping the body under its arms, she dragged it out of the closet, through her parents’ room, down the hall, and out the front door. From there, she carried it a short distance away and dropped it on the ground.

The other body, which Alyssa ran back inside to her brother’s room to collect, was in much the same condition as the first. Maybe slightly better, but only because this one didn’t have bullet holes ventilating the body. Like the first, she dragged it outside and dropped it next to his father.

A part of her felt bad about leaving them in the open, exposed to wild animals, insects, and the elements. The unfortunate fact was that the garden shed hadn’t come with the house. Like her car and the fence, it had been left behind on Earth. With no tools, she would be forced to dig by hand. And that was simply not feasible. She might be able to collect a shovel from Teneville. Lazhar surely had one. Really, she should probably bring them to the graveyard so that they could have a proper burial. Dragging them all the way to Teneville was even less feasible than digging a shallow grave with her bare hands. And bringing other people here to help collect them on a wagon would expose her house.

No. She would leave them alone and exposed. If they truly wanted a respectable funeral, they should have pursued respectable careers rather than become thieves. Besides, Tenebrael had taken their souls—that white mist had to be souls, what else would it be—so these bodies were nothing more than lumps of water, carbon, and a handful of other elements.

Removing the towels and draping them over the bodies—less to be respectful and more because she didn’t want blood and rotten flesh clinging to them inside the house, she returned to the washroom and found a full bottle of bleach. Which she upended in the closet and the hallway where the bodies had been, though not before opening absolutely every window in the house. It would probably ruin the wood floor. Alyssa found it hard to care. It wasn’t like she planned on sticking around for long. It was a just in case measure should she find cause to return. Walking into a foul smelling charnel house once was more than enough for her.

Dirty work done, Alyssa took a quick shower—her first in three days—and set to doing what she had originally meant to do in the first place.

“Time to resupply.”

Technically, she hadn’t used all that much in the way of supplies. Only a few granola bars between her house and Teneville. The sad fact was that she hadn’t come properly prepared in the first place. To that end, she again went to her brother for help.

Since Clark had gone off to college, he had left a great deal behind. Including almost everything from his Wilderness Ranger days. Camping and survival gear just wasn’t that useful in a college dorm. However, it was perfect for Alyssa. The Rangers went camping one weekend every month and Clark had been in the Rangers from when he turned twelve until he turned eighteen. Six years worth of gear.

Digging through, she quickly found his hiking backpack. Much larger than her old high school backpack that she had taken on her first excursion. She dumped everything out on the floor and started going through exactly what she needed.

Maps? Absolutely worthless. A small metal cylinder that unpacked into a ten piece pot and pan cookware set? Potentially very useful. Sleeping bag? He had a few in his closet. Alyssa selected the thinnest and lightest one of the lot. And she grabbed a little personal tent as well. It was extra weight, but she worked out. She ran and lifted weights. Carrying it around might be a nightmare, but it would probably be worth it. Besides, like all exercise, she would get used to it. A bag of trail mix that was probably five years old? Alyssa tossed it in the trash.

She continued sorting through things—a watch, writing utensils, sunglasses, gloves, nylon rope, a whistle, binoculars, his camping guide which contained common flora and fauna, and several other items—until she heard a noise from behind her. Just a light creak of the front door closing.

Instantly, Alyssa found herself on edge. Her hand found her side, only to grip nothing but air.

When she had changed her clothes, she hadn’t reequipped her sidearm. The holster was sitting on the counter in the washroom. But she was in her brother’s room. She had survived an intrusion once before in the very same situation. Reaching down to the floor, she picked up the baseball bat from where she had dropped it after killing the first thief—she hadn’t touched it once since then—and leaned around the door frame into the hall.

A woman stood with bright golden hair running down her back, staring around the entryway. That on its own wouldn’t have been so strange. Alyssa could hardly remember the appearance of everyone she had encountered back at Teneville. It was entirely possible that someone had followed her back.

Except for the outlandish outfit.

Her boots were made of gold bands that criss-crossed up to her knees like a smooth braid. One of her hands had a similarly styled glove—her other hand was bare—though the glove turned to a single band that wound around her arm until it reached her elbow. She had a collar of gold as well that covered her entire neck and the tops of her shoulders, but the metal gave way to bare skin below that. A ‘V’-shape of gold plates covered her breasts just enough to not be baring everything, but would still be a scandalously low cut even on Earth. The ‘V’ led down to little pleats of gold that made up a short skirt.

If the armor—did something so impractical count as armor?—wasn’t enough, she had two golden-white wings sprouting from her back.

Already feeling a sick sensation in her stomach, Alyssa called out to the woman. “What do you want?”

The woman jolted as if she had just stuck her tongue to a battery. She slowly turned around to face the opposite end of the hall before turning back to Alyssa. “Me?” she said, pointing a finger to her bare chest. “You can see me?”

Alyssa just groaned. I knew it, she thought. Another angel.

<– Back | Index | Next –>

003.005

Posted on by Tower Curator

<– Back | Index | Next –>

The Festival

Breakdown

“You kill them! All the pilgrims who come here, you kill them!”

Yzhemal turned to look at Lazhar.

Lazhar turned to look at Yzhemal.

Alyssa ground her teeth together, staring at the two brothers as they turned back to face her. She had been in a stupor after the ceremony. Finding her unmoving as the bodies were being carted off somewhere, Lazhar had walked her back to the inn. Only when he had sat her down at the counter and Yzhemal poured her a drink did she finally snap out of it.

“You didn’t know?”

“Of course I didn’t know!” Alyssa said, slamming a fist on the table as she stared at the so-called priest of the so-called angel.

Lazhar clasped his hands together as he leaned against the counter from the seat next to her. “Where did you say you were from again?”

“I didn’t,” she said through grit teeth.

“It’s common knowledge. People travel from all corners of the land to ensure that they are delivered directly into Her Holiness’ loving embrace.”

Alyssa couldn’t help but to scoff at that. That angel treated criminals better than she had her own followers. Or maybe she simply enjoyed them more.

Now that she thought about it, Tenebrael had been looking forward to Alyssa’s supposed death. One full of suffering and agony for a time before she finally passed. If there was one thing she could say about the pilgrims’ deaths, it had been that they passed relatively quickly and painlessly. No one had been screaming out in anguish, in any case.

“If it’s so common, how come I didn’t know about it?”

“It isn’t often discussed in the open. Death is an uncomfortable topic for many.”

“Besides, you are a little thick in the head,” Yzhemal said under his breath. Still loud enough to get an admonishing look from his brother. “What? She is. She is clueless about money, good food seems to offend her. I even had to explain how to muck the stalls and then she still got it wrong, taking several times longer than it should have in the process.” As he spoke, he ticked off each point with his fingers.

Lazhar looked away from his brother to consider Alyssa with a scratching at his beard. “She does show up wearing impractical clothing.” His fingers stilled momentarily as he glanced down to her waist. “And doesn’t travel with decent weapons,” he mumbled, turning back to his brother. “A sheltered nobleman’s daughter who decided to run away, seeking love and adventure?”

“I’d expect a nobleman’s daughter to know what this is.” Yzhemal pulled out a silver bar and dropped it on the counter. “Your pay for the day, lass.”

She stared at the coin. He didn’t add in any bronze pieces, something she might have complained about under other circumstances. But then, she hadn’t worked for several hours because of that idiotic ceremony. If she had truly screwed up the stable mucking, it was probably more than fair.

He stood, turning to the back door behind the counter. “I have work to get done. When you’re finished, their rooms need to be cleaned. Any effects left behind should be delivered to Lazhar.”

Alyssa sent an accusatory glare to Lazhar as his brother left the room. “You kill them then you steal from them? You’re just a petty grave robber. Except more efficient without all the digging.”

Countenance darkening, Lazhar looked down at her. “There is plenty of digging. Surely you saw the graveyard. We take only what is required to erect a marker. Anything in remainder is buried with the pilgrims as a show of respect. If a pilgrim lacks the assets to pay the stoneman, I personally hand carve their marker to ensure that they are properly memorialized. That is something that is not common knowledge and I will thank you for not passing it around.” He leaned back and glanced to one side; towards the direction of the graveyard, though there were no windows to see out of the inn. “There is enough buried out there to rival the Pharaoh’s grand vaults, I’m sure.”

From his soft tone of voice, Alyssa had no reason to doubt the sincerity of his words. Which actually made this a fairly serious secret he was sharing so candidly. Word getting out would mean brigands and raiders—who probably wandered in droves around such a medieval world—would beset the town, looting and pillaging. In fact, even otherwise upstanding citizens might hear the call of greed to come and exhume as many graves as they could in a night or two before being run off.

Still… “You wouldn’t have to worry about that if you didn’t kill them in the first place.”

His eyes, which had been so jolly every other time Alyssa had seen them, turned sad. Not the kind of sadness for a lost loved one, but full of pity for another. “After witnessing what you saw, you don’t believe in Tenebrael?”

“Oh, I certainly believe in Tenebrael. I just—” Realization struck. Alyssa blinked, confused for a moment as she finished putting together the pieces. “This is all about belief, isn’t it. Six people a year get to see Tenebrael, they talk about her and probably describe her in some years. It isn’t about them though, it’s about the crowd. Six people just gave their lives to reaffirm the beliefs of a few hundred people.”

“More than a few hundred people. Almost everyone in attendance was not from Teneville.” Lazhar turned around, waving a hand through the tavern. “Most who view the ceremony here are not from this village. They will leave tomorrow. They will leave with this experience, believing in it until the day they die. And they will share this experience throughout their lives, reaffirming the beliefs of those who cannot travel.”

Alyssa turned away, utterly disgusted. However, she couldn’t help herself from asking, “What’s in it for you? Revenue for churches across the land? Ale sales? Or not…” she mumbled, more to herself than Lazhar. “You give ale away for free and if you cared about the money, you’d just dig up the graveyard.” Technically, Yzhemal didn’t give ale away for free. Customers did pay for it. But if they wanted it for free, all they had to do was go outside and find Lazhar. It was more like they were paying for the shelter, warmth, company, and service.

She turned to him and watched, waiting for what he would say. If he said anything at all.

Lazhar took a deep breath. Then he smiled. Not his most joyous smile, but a smile filled with sorrow. “Hope.”

“Hope.” Alyssa couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “That’s it. You kill people to reaffirm the beliefs of people solely for the sake of that belief.”

“Sometimes, a little hope is all that is needed. Consider those guarding the Fortress of Pandora—I assume you know of it—how willing would they be to die at the hands of vicious monsters for the sake of Lyria if they didn’t believe someone was waiting for them after their deaths?”

Disparaging soldiers for anything they fought for was not Alyssa’s right. Especially not soldiers defending their country. Some causes might be worthy of criticism, but not fighting to protect others.

Before her mother retired and became a security guard, she had been in the armed services. Alyssa had never asked why. Perhaps she would if she ever saw her mother again. Though she fully expected an answer about how it was for the money without any real deeper cause behind it.

Did that apply here? Did soldiers in this world get paid?

“If I might ask, you said you certainly believe in Her Holiness. Yet you do not believe in the purpose of the festival?”

Alyssa bit her lip. Mentioning her belief in Tenebrael might have been a mistake. Saying that she had seen her personally might be bad. What would a sycophantic priest do if she had seen his god? So she skipped that part entirely. “I believe it is wrong to advance towards death, neither—”

“Nor do I.”

“B-but you killed them.”

“You keep saying that,” he said with a sorry sigh as he shifted towards her on the stool. “Not a one of the pilgrims who have participated in a ceremony during my lifetime have been unaware of what the ceremony entails. I ask each and every one to ensure there are no misunderstandings. They are the ones who drink the tea in the end.”

He stood and crossed to the door, apparently satisfied with his speech.

“How do you know she cares?” Alyssa said before he could leave.

“Ah,” he hummed, turning with a wide smile. “That is actually the easiest question to answer. Every pilgrim who sees Her Holiness has their words and actions recorded. The content varies, but we can infer her responses. Sometimes a pilgrim will repeat her words verbatim. Today, I am curious as to her response for Aziz’s question. He did thank her for it.”

She really wanted to tell him about how she acted; both her actions before the ceremony as well as how she had suddenly put on a holy show while the pilgrims were dying were worthy of mention—the fact that she had complained about his speech as well. Just to scream out how wrong he was. But she was still wary of telling him that she could see Tenebrael. Instead, she sighed and changed the topic, wanting to keep the sycophant from knowing much about her.

“I don’t think you’re a bad man, Lazhar.”

“Thank you,” he said with a dip of his hat.

“If morally shady. But this religion is dangerous. You might be honorable, but you won’t be around forever,” she said, recalling Tenebrael’s words about finding a new high priest. “How long before someone exploits the ceremony? Before a new high priest digs up and uses the riches in the graveyard? Before someone builds churches around the land, claiming that Tenebrael needs money and then collects it for themselves?”

For once, Lazhar didn’t respond. His countenance shifted to a thoughtful expression as Alyssa stood up.

“I suppose I should go clear their things,” she said with a small sigh, heading towards the stairs.

One more night. Once morning hit, Alyssa was going to leave. She couldn’t stick around this place any longer. Perhaps nowhere else would be better, but it could hardly be worse. Lyria seemed a good destination, though maybe with a stop at her home to collect a few more supplies.

<– Back | Index | Next –>

 

003.004

Posted on by Tower Curator

<– Back | Index | Next –>

The Festival

Closing Ceremony

Alyssa wobbled back and forth, nearly collapsing to the floor until that sudden feeling of wrongness that came with falling jolted her awake.

Yzhemal worked her hard the night before. Waiting tables wasn’t exactly difficult work. The menu only had five items on it; porridge, bread, boiled vegetables, stew, and smoked beef. Oh, and ale, of course. Everyone had to have their ale. In fact, she had hardly served any real food if she included alcohol in the ratio.

And the people… ugh. She should have expected it. Weaving around between crowded tables, people were bound to get their hands in places they shouldn’t. Resting her hand on the hilt of her knife usually had them backing away. One of the more rowdy of the bunch had needed a little extra encouragement to keep his hands to himself. Encouragement in the form of a closed fist to the jaw. He hadn’t bothered her after that. Despite nearly the entire tavern laughing at the guy, none of them really bothered her after that either.

At least not until new customers had arrived and the old ones left as the evening went on.

Yzhemal hadn’t been happy with her however. Apparently paying customers were worth more than she was. She hadn’t been fired, but he had said that she would be gone if it happened again.

Alyssa had figured that would have been the end of it.

How wrong she was.

As the evening wound down, Yzhemal sent her out to the stable. She wasn’t sure if it was a punishment or if he had been intending on having her out there regardless. There, Alyssa discovered yet another thing that she absolutely hated. Mucking stalls with nothing but candlelight to go off of. In the middle of the night at that. The cold night. She highly doubted the experience would have been enjoyable in the daylight. Even now, she could still smell it on her.

That had taken so long and had been so exhausting that she hadn’t even opened her bag to look into Aziz’s magic supplies before collapsing onto the bed. Being awoken seemingly an hour later hadn’t helped matters.

Standing out in the grassy courtyard of the temple as the sun started to wane towards nightfall, Alyssa wasn’t sure she would make it through the ceremony without collapsing. And there was still tonight to look forward to, serving customers. Joy.

Nearing evening, the sun hung low in the sky. It was at just the right angle to burn Alyssa’s tired eyes with its harsh light no matter where she looked. She could have turned around, but everyone else was facing the temple as well. She didn’t want to be the only one turned the wrong way.

Though she didn’t know why she bothered. Nothing was happening.

Alyssa stood among a large portion of the gathered townsfolk. Not everyone, but maybe a hundred people. Everyone had gathered around some raised dais in the center of the courtyard made from the same obsidian-like marble that the rest of the temple had been constructed from. The pilgrims had seats—almost more like stone beds, really—evenly spaced around some lavender flower at the middle of the dais.

Aziz was up there, relaxing on one of the beds. He hadn’t been in the tavern the night before, though his bodyguard—or whoever the man with the sword and muscles was—had been drinking at a table. She wasn’t sure where Aziz had gone, but obviously he was alright. Perhaps he had still been upset about their discussion.

To Aziz’s right was that rocker girl. Alyssa hadn’t heard that she had woken up, but she was sitting on her own. A fog hung in her eyes though. She didn’t look at anything in particular. Maybe asphyxiation induced brain damage? Or she could just be high again. Either one seemed likely. Aziz’s bodyguard wasn’t up on the dais, but most of the other strange people Alyssa had noticed were. The old man, the man in the nearly modern tuxedo, and the old woman who had been looking into a crystal ball on the first night all had seats. The sixth seat had a younger woman in it who was dressed in the same simple clothes that most of the village people wore.

In front of the dais, Lazhar stood with his hands clasped in front of him. When Alyssa had first arrived, she had barely recognized him. And not just because of her exhaustion. He barely looked like the jolly old brewmaster. A smooth black suit had replaced his dirt-stained work clothes. It had a line of buttons running up the left side rather than in the middle as modern suits usually had and the shoulders had some sort of silver plates covering them in a wide line. He had replaced his floppy felt hat with a tall and angular hat made from stiff white cloth. A golden ring ran around the top rim while criss-crosses of silver ran straight down the front until they hit the bottom of the brimless hat where the silver looped around his head.

He actually looked like a proper priest, if a bit of a silly one.

But he just stood with his eyes closed, his mouth moving in unheard prayers. A small fire burned to his side with a small obsidian kettle placed on top. She didn’t know what it was for and frankly, she didn’t care. It took all her effort to keep awake. Over an hour of standing around doing nothing was far too much for her.

Alyssa was about ready to walk away. She was tired. She needed a nap before work in the evening. Most of all, she hadn’t wanted to celebrate Tenebrael anyway. The only reason she had shown up was because Yzhemal had given her time off expressly for the ceremony. If she had just gone up to her room to nap, she felt certain that he would get her back out mucking stables.

Even though he didn’t appear to be in attendance himself.

Before she could act on her desire, something tickled at Alyssa’s nose. Brushing her hand over her face, she came away holding a silky black feather.

All traces of sleep vanished from her thoughts as she looked up to the sky. Feathers filled the air, swirling around in a gentle tornado. They wafted down on light gusts of air and landed on everything. People, the ground, the temple, the pilgrims, and even the fire. They didn’t burn though. Alyssa followed one of the feathers as the flames propelled it back up into the air. Not even the edges came away singed.

No one seemed to notice. Most people around her had their hands clasped together just like Lazhar. Some prayed while looking at the ground. Some had their eyes closed. Some stared up at the sky. Yet there was no reaction. Even as a feather landed right in the eye of one of the people next to Alyssa, they didn’t so much as blink.

The feather she was holding exploded into a mist of black motes.

“I almost forgot about you.”

Alyssa’s blood ran cold upon hearing that harmonious voice again. She snapped her gaze to where it had come from.

Tenebrael stood on the dais next to Lazhar with her wings spread wide. But she wasn’t looking at Alyssa. She hadn’t been addressing Alyssa. Her luminescent white eyes were locked on Lazhar. She grinned at him before turning around to look at the pilgrims. “You haven’t even started yet!” she said, hands on her hips as she sighed. “I have so much work to do. This is really not worth it, you know. You should fall down on your knees and lick my boots as thanks for bothering to showing up.”

Yet Lazhar didn’t respond. He didn’t look at Tenebrael. He kept his hands clasped in front of him and continued to pray. As did everyone else around Alyssa. Not a single person reacted to the angel’s words.

Alyssa shimmied over ever so slightly, making sure that she was almost entirely behind the person in front of her. Suddenly thankful for the sun and the warmth that it brought, she wondered what might have happened had she worn the violet cloak. Tenebrael hadn’t noticed her yet, but sticking out like a plum in a dirt patch would definitely have drawn some attention. Her wool jacket did stick out, but only from up close. From a distance, it was as brown as everything else.

Tenebrael turned to face her temple. Just as she had done when Alyssa had a machete in her hands, she raised a finger and pointed towards the doors. A black beam shot out and knocked against the doors, throwing them wide open. Despite their size running up almost the entirety of the six story building, the impossibly large doors opened near instantly, gliding along their hinges with barely any noise. Oddly enough, the doors opened outward.

Despite them opening in near silence, Lazhar ceased his prayer. As did everyone else. He turned with a bright smile to the open doors. “Her Holiness has joined us at last!”

Everyone around her clapped their hands together twice before kneeling down on the ground. Alyssa hesitated for just a moment before joining them in their prostration. Most people had their foreheads touching the grass, but a few looked up to see Lazhar and the pilgrims. She felt safe enough to look up as well.

Along with her vow to get home, Alyssa added finding a way to make Tenebrael pay. Not just for teleporting her to this strange world, but for making her kneel as well.

“Yes, yes,” Tenebrael said with an air of disdain, completely unaware of Alyssa’s thoughts. “Get on with it already.”

But Lazhar didn’t hear her. He turned towards the center where the lavender flower stood in a marble pot. Pot might not have been the best word as the vase was covered in etchings and artwork. The elegance with its flowing curves and two thick handles was a bit much for such a simple term. He reached out with a recently washed hand and plucked a petal from the flower, holding it lovingly in his hands.

“Once a year,” he said as he took two steps to the next petal, “this flower blooms.” He plucked the next petal and continued another two steps around the pot. “Once a year, this flower gifts us with six petals.” Plucking the petal in front of him, he took another two steps. “Six petals, freshly gathered and ground, will make six cups of tea. Six cups of tea that will, for a short time, allow six individuals to gaze upon Her Holiness! Tenebrael!” As he shouted, he came back around to face the majority of the crowd, holding the six petals he had gathered above his head.

Walking back to the fire and kettle, Lazhar dropped the petals into a small stone bowl. He picked up a pestle and began grinding the flower as he continued speaking. “Many of you travel in a parade unto our meeting place; some come from this village, some from across the seas. You may come for different reasons. Perhaps you wished to visit the holy temple and see its majesty with their own eyes.”

Alyssa glanced behind him at the Gothic cathedral. Begrudgingly, she admitted that it was a fairly impressive sight. Even for modern Earth. Sure, it wasn’t as tall as the skyscrapers of New York, but it had a certain elegance to it that was lost on modern architecture.

“Perhaps you have come on a sabbatical, seeking teaching of the humble caretakers of Her Holiness’ temple. I hope I provided well over the past few days.”

“Ugh, get on with it old man,” Tenebrael said, interrupting Lazhar.

Or not. He continued listing off reasons why people might journey to the temple completely disregarding his… Does she count as a goddess? Alyssa wondered as she watched the angel impatiently pace back and forth.

“Your speeches get worse every year. And longer. I really need to find a new high priest.”

“Or maybe,” Lazhar said, dumping the mulch into the kettle over the fire. “Maybe you have come because you have heard that we offer free ale.” He gave a soft chuckle, one echoed by some of the crowd. “And that’s perfectly fine.

“But those here on pilgrimage, they did not come for any of the frivolities of the festival. These brave few have come to drink of Tenebrael’s tea, to see the Unseen One.” He picked up the kettle with a thick cloth wrapped around its stone handle. The wizened old man on the first bed held out a small cylindrical cup made from the same black marble as the kettle and the temple.

As Lazhar poured tea for each of the pilgrims, Tenebrael moved up into the air, hovering with her gently moving wings just above the flower pot in the middle of all the beds. The tips of her boots just barely skimmed the top. One hand moved to brush a lock of her nearly waist-length hair behind her back. Her other hand moved to the air just above her head. The bright golden light from her halo appearing forced Alyssa to look at the ground with a wince.

Even the sun wasn’t so bright.

Other people didn’t have that problem. The man next to her still had his head up and looking towards Lazhar and the pilgrims. He couldn’t see Tenebrael. He wasn’t blinded by the light. Alyssa couldn’t understand why. Before the attempted robbery, she hadn’t been drinking any strange teas. And Lazhar had just said it was temporary anyway.

She could still hear him walking around, pouring the hot tea for the pilgrims. But she heard something else as well. The wizened man. His voice sounded so weak and decrepit with age. And yet, it was so full of joy.

“I see her,” he cried out. “Just as they said she would be.”

“She’s beautiful,” Aziz said, voice filled with awe. “I can hardly look. Her glory is so bright. But I must. I must see. I… I never believed…”

Completely lacking her earlier disdain, Tenebrael spoke in a voice so radiant that even Alyssa nearly shed a tear. Until she actually heard the words. “Do not fear,” Tenebrael said. “Do not fight it. I will be here, waiting to welcome you with open arms.”

Alyssa snapped her head up despite the blinding light, squinting to see what was happening.

“She spoke,” one of the pilgrims said in absolute awe, quickly echoed by the others.

All except for the old man. He coughed instead. With his arm stretched out towards Tenebrael, he collapsed first. The fortune teller followed almost instantly.

“Is there—” Aziz started, cutting himself off to cough as the punk girl slumped completely off her bed. “Is there anything waiting for us?”

“Nothing.” Tenebrael turned towards him with a serene smile. “Nothing but peace and rest without the wearies of the world to weigh you down.”

He nodded his head without taking his tear-filled eyes off Tenebrael. “Thank you,” he said. But he didn’t slump over. Even as the rest of the pilgrims collapsed, even as foam began dripping from the corner of his mouth, he stared. And Tenebrael stared back, the picture of patience.

Right up until the light in his eyes died out and his head sank to his chest.

“Finally,” she groaned as the halo above her head vanished into nothingness. In a single half-turn of her body, the tips of her wings brushed against all six of the pilgrims. A chill ran through the entire crowd—something everyone felt—as the white mist poured out of their bodies. She consumed the fog just as she had with the two robbers, only without all the writhing and joy on her face. She sucked it up as fast as she could. Once every scrap was gone, she pointed a finger towards her temple. The doors shut just as silently as they had opened. In a flurry of black feathers, Tenebrael vanished.

That seemed to be the signal to everyone else. The crowd rose to their feet. Lazhar started talking again, something about how the pilgrims had gone to her side and that there would be one more bonfire once night fell.

Alyssa didn’t hear. The words went in one ear and out the other without connecting anywhere in the middle. The people around her started walking off. All while she remained on her knees, entirely unable to clamp shut her open jaw.

<– Back | Index | Next –>

 

003.003

Posted on by Tower Curator

<– Back | Index | Next –>

The Festival

Magic

Alyssa stared down at the yellowing, leathery paper with a slight frown on her face. The map was… not as useful as she had been hoping. It gave her a vague idea of where some things were. But it lacked so much detail that she felt was necessary to a proper map. She would never be able to actually navigate with it beyond heading in a vague direction.

Not that she would be able to navigate with a proper map. Internet based maps and GPS had clearly spoiled her.

“Here is where we are,” Aziz said, pointing to a little square with a few spires in the middle of a narrow peninsula. Aside from a range of mountains running across where the peninsula met the main land and a small river passing through the mountains down near the spired building and off to the ocean, there wasn’t a single other detail on that section of the map. He ran his finger straight north until he reached a number of buildings all drawn together near the northern coast of the mainland.

Based on the mountains and the river near Teneville, her house was actually a short distance south of Teneville in the complete opposite direction from where he had dragged his finger.

“I come from here. Lyria. Largest city in the land. A beautiful land at that. The buildings reach as tall as the sky and the golden fields of wheat hug the hilltops around the city walls.” He let out a small sigh.

From Lyria, the continent curled back around with a few more buildings and landmarks drawn out. None as large as the city. Except for one mark on the map down at the southern tip—almost directly west of Teneville, with a sea separating the two lands. It was some kind of castle, drawn easily as large as Lyria. Alyssa pointed at it, “What is this?”

“Pandora? You don’t know?”

“I’m not from around these parts,” she said, waving her hand over the whole map. She figured it was a fairly safe bet that there was more to the world than what was drawn. Including Teneville and Lyria, there were only a handful of markers on the map. Unless the world was incredibly tiny. Which, for all she knew, it could be.

“You’re not from the islands over The Great Ocean, are you?” he asked, pointing off the map to the east.

Alyssa just shrugged. “I’m not entirely sure where I’m from in relation to here. I arrived here entirely on accident.”

He eyed Alyssa, staring and searching. But apparently didn’t find what he was looking for. “The Fortress of Pandora,” he started, pointing at the little castle, “occupies the entire stretch of land between The Great Ocean and the Sea of Tenebrael.”

It took Alyssa a great amount of will to keep herself from rolling her eyes. That angel sure had some problems with hubris. A village and a sea named after her? Alyssa couldn’t help but wonder how many other things she would encounter bearing the angel’s name.

“It protects us from… well, it’s just called the Desert now. It used to be a great civilization, one that rivaled the Lands of Lyria. Now? It’s overrun by beasts and monsters. Monsters that would travel north if the fortress were to fall.”

Beasts and monsters. Only a few minutes ago, Lazhar had mentioned harpies. She had assumed him to either be confusing wolves with something else or simply be mistaken. Harpies weren’t real, after all. On Earth. Yet they appeared in myths and stories. So it wouldn’t be surprising if he were mistakenly propagating myths of this world.

But if they had built a whole fortress to defend against a land overrun by monsters, maybe there was some truth to it.

Or it could just be bears. Lots and lots of bears.

“Apparently there are still people living south of the fortress. I don’t know how they manage to survive. Every so often, there is a tale of a human passing through the fortress to live in, explore, or otherwise visit the lands around Lyria.”

“Humans are resilient. We’re smart. We make tools, weapons, and armor to cover up our natural deficiencies. Where there is a will, there is a way.”

“Weapons and armor might be good for fighting other humans. There’s a limit when a monster can claw through iron and shrug off a thousand arrows with only the durability of their hide.”

Alyssa blinked and stared into his brown eyes for a moment, looking for some hint of a joke. She found none. “Surely that’s an exaggeration.”

“I… haven’t actually been to the fortress,” he said, rubbing the back of his short hair. “But the stories!”

“Are not the truth. Stories are always exaggerated to make things more interesting for the listener. Besides, even if what you heard is true, humans will devise some other way of dealing with the beasts. We’re surprisingly good at innovating ways to kill things. I mean,” Alyssa tapped the map, “this fortress hasn’t fallen. They must have a way to defend against attacks. How long has it been standing for?”

“Before I was born. Before my father as well.” His eyes turned distant at the mention of his father. Snapping back to reality, he shook his head. “A long time.”

“See? Someone found a way to kill them. And maybe the people living down there don’t even need to kill them. Perhaps they befriended or tamed the creatures.”

His head snapped towards her, actually stumbling back from where the map was laid out on the room’s bench. “Such a thing would be forbidden! Such jests are in poor taste.”

“I didn’t say that I do it,” she said in a hurry. She didn’t know who had forbidden taming monsters, but she had a decent guess. Being accused of heresy in the middle of a sycophantic town would probably not end well for her. Though if it actually pissed of that angel, maybe she should try.

Thankfully, her protest worked. He visibly calmed down. Though he did not speak.

So Alyssa turned back to the map. There wasn’t much to study, but it was better than absolutely nothing. Actually… Biting her lip, she glanced over at Aziz. He stared off out the open window, eyes not looking at anything in particular. Not that there was much to look at. His room faced the rear of the inn. There were no large groups of celebrating people. Just a windmill sitting out on a hill.

“Do you mind if I take a picture?”

“A picture? Like a portrait?”

“Not exactly,” she said as she pulled out her cell phone. It was a risk, especially with how he had reacted to the possibility of befriending monsters. But they had already established that she was from a far away land. She could just claim that it was a tool of her people. And she wouldn’t even be lying.

It took a moment to start up. She had kept it completely off to preserve the battery life. All the while, Aziz stared at the glossy black screen. When it lit up, he gasped. Rather than back away in fear, he actually leaned forwards. So Alyssa continued as planned. She held it over the map, hit the camera button, and showed him the resulting picture.

“There. Just like that.”

His hand reached out and lightly brushed against the glass, which ended up zooming in on the picture, cutting off half of Lyria in the process. He pulled his hand back with another gasp. “You copied it. So fast!”

“That’s what this does,” she said with a nod. She didn’t bother mentioning calling other people, the internet, or even playing music. The latter two would just waste batteries and she couldn’t demonstrate the former when nobody else had a phone.

“And you can copy anything just as fast?” He leaned around to see the other side. “Where does it put the paper? And the ink?”

Alyssa sighed. She only had a vague idea of how computers worked. Electricity and magnets. Ones and zeroes. Flattened rocks. None of which would be helpful to someone who didn’t even know what electricity was. “Magic?”

“I knew it!” He clasped his hands together, suddenly excited. Which was better than witch accusations. “Your accidentally arriving here was a magical accident.”

“Yeah, you could say that.”

“And that thing at your side,” he said, pointing at the holstered pistol. “It’s a magical weapon.”

“Close enough.”

“Still, I’m in awe,” he said, staring back at the phone. “We never had anything like that back at the academy. It would have been so useful. There are means for copying things, mind you, but not like this and not so fast. And nothing available to the younger acolytes when the masters wished for us to replicate things.”

“Academy?”

“Oh yes. My father paid…” his excitement died off in an instant. “I mean Lyria has a most prestigious academy. It’s the only magical academy I’m aware of, but it’s famous all the same. Unfortunately, I am not any good at magic.” Aziz moved over to the bed with all the enthusiasm of a child in a dentist’s office and grabbed a leather bag. One with a shining silver clasp, embedded with another amethyst. From it, he withdrew a deck of cards and scattered them across the bench.

Not quite modern cards and they weren’t playing cards either, but they were stiff and paper-like. High quality paper at that. He had only ten of them and each had the same symbol on the front. A single circle in the center had twelve spokes jutting out from it. Each spoke jagged to the right and then back to the left, continuing on in the same direction it had originally been headed. All of which was contained within a second circle. Above and below the symbol were more of those angelic runes.

Aziz took one of the cards and held it between his forefinger and middle finger with the symbol pointed outward. He took a deep breath and began mumbling under his breath. Nothing Alyssa could make out, even standing next to him. With how much his face had scrunched up in concentration, she didn’t want to interrupt to find out. So she remained silent and watched.

And watched…

Nothing.

Tossing the card back onto the bench, Aziz let out a sigh and collapsed onto the bench next to the map. “You see? I cannot manage even the simplest of spells. The academy excommunicated me. After finding out, my father disowned me.”

Alyssa blinked, eyes wide and eyebrows high on her forehead. That did explain his presence on this pilgrimage. Lazhar had said that people who traveled to the temple didn’t often have much left. Still, that seemed rough. Though perhaps not as strange as she had initially thought, now that she was considering it. It probably didn’t happen often, but some people on Earth surely had increased tensions with their parents for failing out of colleges. In the past—in Earth’s Middle Ages, it probably had been much more common.

“Sorry,” Aziz said, putting on an obviously forced smile. “I didn’t mean to ruin your day.”

“No, I should apologize. I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.”

He shook his head. “You didn’t know. Besides, I got to see your fascinating magic, even if understanding it is beyond me. You might not have shown me had you known.” He sat for just a moment before abruptly standing. “I think I’m going to go drink some outside. It should be nearly time to light the bonfire anyway.”

Alyssa, already standing, merely nodded her head. “That sounds good. I’d join you, but I’ve got work to do.” She just about walked out of the room before him, but paused for a moment, glancing down at the cards. “Do you mind if I keep one of these?”

“Keep them all. They’re worthless to me.” Aziz started walking towards the bed rather than the door. “Here,” he said as he picked up the fancy leather bag by the strap. Buckling the silver locket, he tossed it to Alyssa. “There’s ink, papyrus, feathers. Since you obviously weren’t able to supply before your accident, rebuild your stock of spells with that.”

“I can’t—”

“Don’t say you can’t take them.” He started walking backwards towards the door. Spreading his arms wide, he gave a pitiful chuckle. “I’m never going to use them again. Now, where’s that ale man.”

With that, he left Alyssa standing alone in the room, his cloak over one arm and his bag in the other. Accepting charity never sat well with Alyssa. Working for what she needed was just how her parents had raised her. All so that she wouldn’t be a drain on society. At the same time, she had always been taught to not frivolously waste. Her mother ensured that the dishes she ate from were as clean as they could be after meals, before putting them into the dishwasher.

And if he was being honest in not using the materials, who was she to turn down his gift? Even if magic either didn’t exist or if she couldn’t do it, as she expected to be the case, she could still sell the materials.

Scooping up the cards, Alyssa dropped them into the leather bag. She then carefully folded up the cloak and placed both items into her backpack. It was starting to get a little full, but better than leaving irreplaceable goods lying around her room for anyone to come in and steal.

Slinging it back over her shoulder, she exited the room in a hurry.

Yzhemal was shouting for her to get back to work.

<– Back | Index | Next –>

Author’s Notes: There is a map that I drew to accompany this chapter. It can be found in the World Notes section of Alyssa’s Notes. I am not even a slightly good artist. Please make fun of me in the comments section of that page.

003.002

Posted on by Tower Curator

<– Back | Index | Next –>

The Festival

Supplies

“She’s still breathing,” Lazhar said, standing up from the bed and turning to Alyssa and Yzhemal. He moved away from the sleeping girl, dusting his hands together. “Whether she wakes or not? I cannot say,” he said with a casual shrug.

“I warned everyone of putting out fires before sleeping. Lass is lucky she didn’t burn down my inn.”

“She would probably have died,” Alyssa mumbled. Looking up to the twin with the beer belly—she didn’t actually know if they were twins or not, but they were brothers and looked similar enough to each other that it probably counted—she asked, “Is there nothing else you can do for her? Smelling salts or… something?” She had her first aid kit, but honestly didn’t think anything in it would help with asphyxiation. In fact, she didn’t have the slightest clue how one went about treating asphyxia except maybe with an oxygen mask. Alyssa didn’t have one of those even back at the house.

“Smelling salts?” Lazhar said, utterly confused. His bewilderment only lingered momentarily before he began smiling again. “I am sorry, I do not understand. I am but a humble priest. Are you trained in the healing arts?”

A priest? When Yzhemal had told her to go find his brother at the brewery, she had assumed that Lazhar was a doctor of some sort. Priests were the ones called for last rites. That or miraculous healing. But as a priest of Tenebrael, Alyssa highly doubted that he would be able to get that angel to show up. From what Alyssa had seen, Tenebrael wouldn’t bother to heal the woman. In fact, she might just hasten the poor girl’s death.

“No. Not really,” Alyssa eventually said. “I’ve just heard that smelling salts can help people wake up.”

Yzhemal scoffed. “I consider myself the altruistic sort. This careless lass nearly burned down my inn. I wouldn’t waste valuable salt on someone so worthless.”

“Brother!” Lazhar said, voice low and deep. “She is a pilgrim! We can hardly blame them.” He paused, blinking his dark eyes as he looked towards Alyssa.

Bounding over the short distance with footsteps heavy enough to shake dust from the floorboards, he clasped a hand on her shoulder. “Do not worry for this girl. Pilgrims…” He waved his hand in the air without any real meaning or direction. “They are a different sort. At the end of their ropes. Lost and directionless, they come here seeking… Well, it is personal for each pilgrim. However, they come with but one thing to lose.” He nodded his head towards the punk rocker girl. “And if she loses it, I am sure that Her Holiness will welcome her on the other side.”

“Yeah,” Alyssa said through pursed lips, “I’m sure she will.”

“Glad you understand,” Lazhar said with a jolly smile, apparently taking Alyssa’s words more positively than she had meant them. “Come brother, Alyssa, let us leave the girl in peace. I shall save her a spot in the closing ceremony just in case she awakens.”

As Lazhar started to lead her out of the room, Yzhemal walked up to a small leather pouch sitting on the floor next to the bed. He flipped open the flap and started digging through the contents. It took Alyssa a moment to realize what he was doing.

“You’re stealing from her?”

“Stealing?” He pointed down at the damp charcoaled wood on the floor. “I am seeking recompense. This floor must be repaired. Unless you are going to pay for it? You’ll be working with no pay for a lot longer than three days.” Crossing his arms, Yzhemal started tapping at the crook of his elbow.

Alyssa couldn’t do anything but bite her lip and shake her head. If that was how this world worked, the girl had brought it down on her own head. Someone from Earth would have to pay a hotel if they burned half the floor away. Though, people wouldn’t just take it while the arsonist should be in a hospital. Some sort of court would probably be involved. It would wind up some big deal that would end up costing everyone more than the cost to replace the carpet.

“I thought not,” Yzhemal said as he returned to the bag.

Alyssa stared for another moment before turning and allowing Lazhar to walk her out of the room. She stopped once they reached the main tavern room. The younger boy she had noticed the night before was seated at a stool in front of the counter. Supposedly, she was on a break. Yet he sat there, all alone in the room. Did he need help? Service? With Yzhemal still upstairs, it was probably her job to go and see if he needed something?

He gave her a slight wave as she stood there, but not the sort of wave that would try to call her over. At least, she assumed it wasn’t that sort of wave. Mannerisms could easily be drastically different from Earth. But he looked back towards the front of the room and shut his eyes, leaning slightly on the counter. So she kept following Lazhar. He wouldn’t be staying long anyway, then she could see if the boy needed something.

“Shame about that girl,” Lazhar said as they reached the entrance to the inn. “But nothing to do about it. I need to get back and finish filling my kegs. Perhaps I’ll see you around the bonfire tonight, hmm?”

“I think I’m going to be waiting on tables this evening. Sorry,” she said, not really feeling sorry at all. Making money off people celebrating Tenebrael was one thing. Celebrating her was another thing entirely.

“My brother has you working like a mule, I see. Still, he’ll give you time off for the closing ceremony. You’ll attend that, no?”

“Maybe.”

His smile lost its vigor as he looked on her with sad eyes. He opened his mouth to say something. Though it was rude, Alyssa didn’t really want to hear any preaching. So she beat him to the punch.

“Actually, I was wondering if there is anywhere around here I might be able to purchase a cloak or coat or something similar.”

Lazhar hummed to himself, scratching his beard. “Tailor Thovas may have a spare or two he would be willing to sell.” He reached out a hand and brushed his knuckles against her arm. “Quite high quality wool you have there. The tailor must have been skilled.”

“The tailor was skilled,” she said after a moment. “Unfortunately, I can’t get them anymore. Besides, this isn’t meant for cooler climates. It’s much too thin. I might as well be wearing nothing at night. How much would the tailor be asking, in your best guess?”

“Two of his sheep were killed a few weeks ago. Carried off by harpies, the filthy vermin. Because of that, I imagine any wool he has in stock will cost a lot. More than my brother is paying you over a few days. Seventeen medi. Maybe fifteen and four prav at the lowest.”

Which meant that prav were a smaller denomination than medi. Bronze and silver respectively? Alyssa didn’t dare ask and display her ignorance. Unless the money was only used within the village, it was probably something that even a child would be aware of. She simply nodded her head. “I see.” Maybe she could trade something. If worse came to worse, there were winter coats back at the house. They wouldn’t blend in half as well as a locally made coat. Avoiding a slow death from hypothermia and frostbite was just a little higher on her priority list than appearing as a local. “I’ll figure something out.”

“Well, I wish you luck!” he said with a chuckle. As he left the inn, he gave a quick wave over his shoulder without looking back.

Alyssa watched him go for a moment, staring out the open door. Even in the middle of the day, people were out partying. Lazhar stopped and greeted nearly every person he passed. Several of the closer ones—the ones Alyssa could hear—asked if he would join them for a drink or a chat. With a jolly laugh, Lazhar always declined, pointing off to the distance to the stone building that was his brewery. Nobody protested much as he walked on to the next group. Nobody wanted to be the reason the ale ran dry.

Shaking her head, she closed the door and turned back to the tavern. “Can I help you?” she asked as she stepped behind the counter.

“Just resting,” the boy said without opening his eyes. He had a slight accent that Alyssa couldn’t place. Of course, something would be very wrong if she could place an accent in this world. It was amazing enough that everyone spoke English so far. “Getting out of the sun, you know?”

“It is bright out today, isn’t it.” Not that she had to worry about the weather. Aside from running to grab Lazhar from the brewery to check on the punk rock girl, she hadn’t left the inn once. Yzhemal had her cleaning and she wasn’t sure that the building had ever been cleaned before.

“I hope you don’t mind me overhearing your conversation, but you’re looking for a cloak?”

Alyssa’s eyes flicked to the violet cloak around the boy’s shoulders. A large silver brooch inlaid with three amethyst gems held the top collar together around his neck. Leather straps down the open edge held the rest of the cloak closed, though he only had the two uppermost straps done up. With the rest of the cloak open, he was free to move his arms about and work. It wasn’t as nice as modern materials, but might as well be when compared to the clothes everyone else wore. More than that, it looked clean and colorful. In short, she would probably need to work at the inn for several years before she could afford something like it.

Before she could respond, he undid the silver brooch and the leather straps. Gripping both ends of his collar, he swung it off, letting the ends ripple through the air until he folded it over one arm. He set it down on the counter and slid it towards Alyssa.

She stared for just a moment before looking up to him. “I can’t accept this. I don’t even know you.”

“Aziz,” he said, pressing the cloak just a little further. “And I insist.”

Alyssa stared for a moment before brushing her fingers across the fabric. It was almost more like thick felt than a soft wool. Much better than whatever the bed blankets were made from. When she didn’t pick it up, he shoved it forward again, forcing Alyssa to grab hold of it before it could fall to the floor.

“You’ll get more use from it than I. Don’t worry about it being a noble’s cloak. No one will care. If you really don’t want it, just leave it on the counter. I’m sure the innkeeper would love it.”

“When you put it like that, how can I refuse?” Alyssa said, hoping she wasn’t getting herself into some strange courtship ritual. She looked up from the cloth, half expecting him to be leering at her, only to find Aziz leaning over the counter with his eyes closed once again. This time, he had a slight smile on his face.

“I… You’re a traveler, right?” Alyssa asked before she could stop herself. “I hate to impose after you’ve just given me this gift, but I don’t suppose you have a map I could look at? I don’t need to keep it, just a quick look,” she added quickly before he could throw more of his possessions at her.

However, he shook his head. “I don’t. But! I believe Bertram, my companion, has one in a bag. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind you taking a gander at it.” Aziz slid off the stool and headed towards the stairs. “It would be up in our room, I’ll show you.”

<– Back | Index | Next –>

003.001

Posted on by Tower Curator

<– Back | Index | Next –>

The Festival

Work Work

Alyssa could say with absolute certainty that she hated medieval life. Try as she might, she couldn’t find a single redeeming point to anything.

Food had three flavors and only three flavors; bland, raw sewage, and inedible. None of the college classes she had signed up for had been proper history classes. To get her credits, she had taken art history. Which had just enough regular history mixed in as context for the art to understand exactly why the food was terrible. On Earth, entire wars had been fought over spices. Gold showed others just how affluent one was, but spices gave that joy to eating that the poor simply couldn’t have.

Based on her experience in the roughly twenty-four hours that she had spent in the town, Teneville—as she had found out it was called—could use a war or two.

Of course, food wasn’t the only complaint she had. After receiving her instructions from Yzhemal, he had offered her a room to stay the nights in. A simple room made of wood with a simple bed and a long bench against one wall. Within that room, Alyssa had discovered exactly why medieval torture tools were so creative and terrifying. They had to be when standard living was such a pain already.

The first problem hadn’t been too big of a problem. Yzhemal gave her a candle to use while getting ready for sleep. The light from the candle didn’t reach from one end of the room to the other despite Alyssa being able to touch opposite walls at the same time. She had pulled out her flashlight. It was one of the ones powered by shaking, so she wasn’t concerned with running out of batteries.

Which just revealed another problem. The bed had a thin wool blanket. Not modern wool. Rough, scratchy, and reeked of sweat despite the few mint leaves that littered the room. Alyssa had decided to sleep on the bench. Not only was the wood just as soft as the bed, but she was far less likely to wind up with a colony of lice and fleas thriving off her body.

As the night went on, the room turned from mildly chilly to downright freezing. Alyssa couldn’t do a thing about it either. The thin blanket wouldn’t have helped much. Neither would the candle, it was just too small. She couldn’t light a fire in the middle of a wooden room.

When Yzhemal came knocking on her door at far-too-early o’clock, she felt like she had gotten maybe an hour of rest.

Whereupon she had discovered yet another misery of the Middle Ages.

They had no toilets.

Alyssa shuddered just remembering the outhouse as she set down her broom. Sweeping a dirt floor, she thought, bringing up a hand to wipe her brow. The difference in temperature between night and day astounded Alyssa. Hauling around boxes, sweeping every room, and gathering up all the old mint leaves didn’t help with the heat.

Every other room had wooden floors. She didn’t understand why the main tavern room lacked a proper floor. The constant sweeping and walking had trampled it down to the point where there the floor sloped beneath the entry door, letting in a constant inch of daylight across the bottom.

“Here lass,” Yzhemal said, coming up from behind her. He dropped a large wicker basket onto a nearby table. Greenery filled it to the point where leaves overflowed onto the table and her freshly swept floor. “Spread these around once all the old leaves are gone. After, you can have a short break until nightfall. Wander, sleep, whatever.” He started to walk away for a moment before holding up a finger in apparent recollection. “Ah yes,” he said, moving back to the basket. Just to its side, he dropped a series of coins that each landed with a heavy clink. “Your pay for the day. I’ll give you gruel for your meals again without cost, but if you be wanting something better…” His finger tapped the coins a few times before he walked off again.

“Thank you, sir,” Alyssa said respectfully as he disappeared into the back room. She might not like anything about her situation, but it was a job and he was being kind to her so far. No sense being impolite.

Getting down onto her knees, she scooped up the mint leaves she had swept and dropped them into a similar basket as the one on the counter. There wasn’t much chance of mixing them up. Rich green leaves filled the new basket, nearly overflowing. The old leaves were flat, pressed down by the weight of travelers and locals alike. Color had been squashed out of them, leaving them a dull, almost brown green. Part of that might have been the dirt.

Once she finished, she went to inspect her payment.

As expected, she had not been paid in any currency she recognized. They weren’t even coins. She had just assumed from the quick glance and from the sound. They were bars. Three were either bronze or copper ones—maybe a dull brass, but Alyssa was leaning towards bronze. Not that she had any experience in metallurgy. Each of the three was as long as her little finger and, standing them all upright, roughly the same length as each other.

Among the three bronze bars was a single silver bar. It was roughly the same length, but where the bronze bars had four distinct sides, the silver had only three. Both styles were lined up and down in the same symbols that Alyssa had seen in the angel’s notebook. Little tiny runes, some blocky and some round, that she couldn’t make heads or tails of. She had seen the modern English alphabet just outside the inn. A large signboard hung over the doorway with a bed and the word ‘INN’ written along with a drawing of a bed for the illiterate. So the runic symbols must have some special meaning.

All the coins—or bars or whatever they were called—were slightly misshapen. As if they had been pressed in different molds that weren’t identical. The silver one weighed almost as much as two of the bronze ones, but all were fairly manageable.

So she had coins. What to do with them? Not food, obviously. Yzhemal had said it himself, she would still be getting meals. Having been in the kitchen and seen just what he had to work with, none of it would be worth spending money on. Except maybe the meat. However, the meat had to be much more expensive than anything else. Even then, she doubted it would be all that tasty. Not to mention her lack of a reference for how much things in this world cost. Meals might be drastically overpriced in comparison to other goods. It might be more worth it to buy a fur coat or something similar. Something she could keep warm with at night. And something that blended in a little better than her pants and jacket. People ignored her now because they were expecting pilgrims to show up in outlandish clothing like the boy in the violet cloak, but that might not be the case forever.

For the moment, she slipped the coins into her pocket. They were metal and, as such, would still be good later if she needed them.

Grabbing the basket of fresh mint, she ran through the entire inn like some kind of flower girl, spreading them everywhere from the beds to the floors.

On the second story of the building, Alyssa paused her flower girl activities outside a room. Light gray smoke leaked from the cracks in a door in great plumes. The whole hallway had a haze to it and a layer of smoke clung to the angled ceiling. At first, she thought to rush in and extinguish whatever fire was there before it burned down the entire inn. But the smoke didn’t smell like the right kind of smoke; a campfire was what she expected a burning wood inn to smell like. It was more like cigarette smoke, except it stung her nose with a sickly sweet scent. Some kind of a flowery smell as well.

A drug, undoubtedly. The same thing had been present in the air of the tavern last night, but it hadn’t been as strong then. The mint kept the other scents down. Here in the hallway, there wasn’t much in the way of mint except for the leaves in her basket.

Still, if something was burning uncontrollably, she should probably put a stop to it.

“Uh, housekeeping?” Alyssa said as she knocked on the smoking door. No one answered after a moment of standing around, so she pressed open the door.

And promptly staggered back with a sleeve over her mouth. She couldn’t even see through the thick smoke that filled the room. Leaning to the side, she took a deep breath of the slightly fresher air before charging into the room with squinted eyes. There was a window directly opposite from the door which she knocked open with her fist. The windows didn’t have glass, just a wooden shutter. A breeze outside helped to carry the smoke away.

It wasn’t enough.

She dashed back through the room before her breath ran out and into the opposite room, opening the window there. Leaning out, she took in a few deep gasps of clean air.

The air started clearing with the extra throughflow from opening the window. Soon enough, Alyssa turned back to the smoking room to find only a thin mist obstructing her view instead of the thick fog. Inside and on the floor, lying with a smoldering pile of weeds at her side, was the green-haired girl from the night before.

The punk rocker was face down and not moving.

<– Back | Index | Next –>

 

002.004

Posted on by Tower Curator

<– Back | Index | Next –>

A Whole New World

Inn Keeping

Walking through the village half a step behind Lazhar—as the ale vendor had introduced himself—Alyssa kept quiet and tried to draw as little attention to herself as possible. Lazhar didn’t seem to mind. He didn’t even ask about her odd attire. Not a single woman that she passed had anything other than a dress on. Alyssa’s pants had to stick out like a sore thumb.

Perhaps he was too preoccupied to concern himself much with the strange visitor. Every ten steps, people walked right up to his wagon. Lazhar chatted with everyone, calling them by name as he refilled their drinks. Alyssa never saw currency exchange hands nor any promise of later payment. Just smiles, laughter, and ale.

Watching them, Alyssa’s initial wariness lessened. Even if they worshiped that angel, they didn’t act like bad people. Everyone was entitled to their own religions. Lazhar had looked disappointed when she had said that she wasn’t a pilgrim, but he hadn’t pressed anything of the religion on her. All he had done was answer her question about the festival. People who came around to preach their religions back on Earth were more pushy than that when they knocked on her door.

So long as it stayed that way, she wouldn’t have a problem with them.

Eventually, they came to one of the larger buildings that she had initially thought to be a barn. Lazhar pulled his cart to a stop around the back. The tall building cast the slightly worn grass into shadow from the moon. Aside from Lazhar, there weren’t any people either. Both had Alyssa casually dropping her hand to the holster at her side.

But Lazhar turned with a smile on his face. “Entrance is on the other side,” he said. “Do me a favor and get Yzhemal to open up the back door? I have a load of ale to deliver.”

“Ah,” came Alyssa’s eloquent response as she moved her hand away in shame. Lazhar didn’t seem to notice. Then again, did he know what guns were? This place didn’t look technologically advanced. He used a mule drawn wagon, had rough leather shoes, and she had yet to see a single sign of electric lighting. “Right,” she said after a moment. “It’s the least I can do after you brought me here.”

“No problem,” he said as she started walking away. “Like I said, I had a delivery to make.”

Alyssa hurried around the building before she could create any other awkward situations. She made it around to the front and entered through a simple wooden door. A drawn out creak pulled everyone’s attention to the opening door. Alyssa stood frozen under the gazes of at least thirty people. Most were dressed in the same manner of clothing as those outside, and all were eating and drinking and laughing with each other. Or, they had been until she arrived.

“Well? Come in, girl. You’re letting all the warm air out.”

“S-Sorry!” Alyssa did as she was asked, closing the door behind her.

The tavern didn’t smell quite like she would have expected of an enclosed building in the Middle Ages. Mint overpowered nearly every other scent inside. Though it wasn’t nearly as powerful as out in the fields. Still, it worked. Only the pungent scent of sweat made it through, and not strong enough to really bother Alyssa. Certainly not worse than at the recreation center she frequented. The source of the mint quickly became apparent around the door. Leaves littered the dirt floor.

“And you lot,” the man behind the bar barked out, pulling Alyssa’s attention back to the tavern patrons. “No need to be staring at everyone who comes in the door. You’re making the lass uncomfortable, you are.”

At his command, most everyone turned back to their drinks, meals, and companions. A few didn’t. A few kept staring at her. The ones who didn’t dress as everyone else did. A young boy seated at one of the tables kept his eyes on her. A kid that, were she on Earth, wouldn’t be out of high school by the looks of things. Just behind him, a man that had bigger muscles than Alyssa did leaned against a wall with one hand resting on a straight sword attached to his side. Alyssa couldn’t help but stare at how gaudy they were. While the man wore a relatively subdued vest made of metal scales, the boy made up for it with his violet cloak. The first real color that Alyssa had seen being worn since entering the town.

A table away, a girl Alyssa’s age—maybe a bit older, Alyssa didn’t have any lines on her face just yet—sat with a serene expression on her face. Her fingers curled through her deep green hair as she let out a deep puff of smoke from an old fashioned pipe. Green hair! With it shaved on one side over her ear, she looked more like she belonged in a punk rock concert than a medieval tavern.

Some of the others drew Alyssa’s attention; a wizened old man with a long white beard, a man with an almost modern tuxedo, and an old woman staring into a crystal ball. Not wanting to cause more of a scene, she refrained from watching them for too long and made her way straight to the counter. The man behind it looked remarkably similar to Lazhar with his same beard and pointed nose. He didn’t have quite the beer belly though. Lazhar probably sampled his own wares more than he should.

“Are you Yzhemal?”

“I see you know me,” he said with a slow nod of his head. He set a tankard on the counter as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the wooden surface. “Though I cannot say that the reverse is true.”

“I’m Alyssa. Just a traveler, I suppose. Not a pilgrim,” she said before he could ask. Technical truths worked best. She sure wasn’t going to say something about being brought here from another world by the so-called angel they worshiped. And yet she had to say something. Lazhar called her a traveler when he first saw her, so a traveler she would be. “However, Lazhar sent me to tell you that he is waiting out back with a delivery.”

His lips peeled back, displaying the exquisite dental care the Middle Ages provided in the orange tavern lighting. “It’s about time. The last keg is down to nothing but dregs. I’ll be back.” He stepped back towards an opening in the wall behind the counter, but paused to glance back at Alyssa. “You being hungry? Shall I bring you a tankard of fresh ale?”

Alyssa nearly answered in the affirmative. While she had her granola bars and other assorted snacks, plus more food back at the house should she absolutely need it, she obviously wasn’t going to be able to resupply. From now on, she would do her best to preserve them for emergencies. She had just one little tiny probably inconsequential problem.

Lazhar had never heard of America. She had no reason to believe that Yzhemal would be any different. Unless she had wound up somewhere exceedingly strange, she highly doubted that the few dollar bills in her wallet would be much good here. Her credit and debit cards even less so.

“I would, but I have no means with which to pay.”

Yzhemal’s frowned, scratching at his beard in exactly the same manner as Lazhar had. His eyes ran from the top of her brown hair down to her waist, stopping only because of the counter top being in the way.

Alyssa shifted, narrowing her eyes once she realized what he had been doing. This was, by all appearances, a medieval society. Contrary to popular belief, chivalry didn’t exist in Earth’s history. Why should it exist in this medieval town? She should have expected something like this from the moment she realized what the town was. It would be several months before she ran through all the frozen meat in her freezer and possibly even longer for all the canned food. So long as she rationed herself properly. The only downside would be the food tethering her to the house. The house Tenebrael had told her not to leave.

But if she thought about it for a moment, she would almost certainly choose confronting that angel over the worse alternatives. With the food stores, it would be a good year before she was desperate enough to sell herself for a meal.

And definitely not to the first—or second—creep she met. With a full year, she could shop around for someone who looked like they bathed more than once a season.

The tavern keep opened his mouth before she could inform him of that fact.

“I might have a job for a pretty lass.” Alyssa opened her mouth, but he held up a hand. “Pilgrimage season is a busy few days. In years past, I was younger. Now? Too busy for one humble man.”

“You’re saying that you’ll pay me for work. Real work,” she clarified. “Like waiting tables.”

“Cleaning, cooking? Are you able to cook?”

Alyssa opened her mouth to answer yes, but hesitated. Did she know how to cook? She could use a modern stove and a microwave. She could prepare a handful of meals from scratch. How much did that apply to whatever his kitchen looked like? Her idea of cooking from scratch might start twenty steps into his idea of scratch.

So she shook her head. “But I can learn. I think I know the basic theory behind most cooking.”

“We shall see. But! I have kept my brother out in the cold long enough. If I wait too long, he will start drinking my ale to keep warm,” he said with a half-hearted chuckle. “I only wish I could joke about that. When I return, I shall bring a small meal. After, we discuss your duties.” With that, he disappeared into the back door.

Alyssa sighed as she turned back to the rest of the room. Getting a job solved at least one immediate problem. Only by creating a hundred more in the process. The biggest of which was that somewhere deep down, it felt like she was committing herself to staying in this strange world. Which she absolutely wasn’t. Alyssa vowed to find a way home even if she had to twist that angel’s arm to force her. She couldn’t just leave her parents and brother thinking she was dead. Unfortunately, it didn’t look like getting back anytime soon was in the cards.

Really, she wondered if she shouldn’t be freaking out more. Trapped in a strange world with no way home and no real connection to home should alarm her. And yet, she felt oddly calm. Maybe I’m in shock. Freaking out wouldn’t solve any of her problems. It would do nothing more than waste time. So it was probably a good thing she wasn’t.

Looking around, she decided to move to a table in the far corner. High stools lined the counter that Yzhemal had stood behind. If she wanted, she was certain that she could eat there. But then Yzhemal would stand over her the entire time. And probably talk too. On the opposite end of the room, he would have to choose between managing his inn and chatting with his new employee.

The far corner offered another advantage. Alyssa slung her backpack off her back and sat with her back to the wall. No one could sneak up on her. Placing her backpack on the floor between her legs ensured that no one could steal from her either. The counter’s stools lacked that helpful aspect. It wasn’t that she was paranoid. She just had a lot on her, like her cell phone and wallet, that she probably shouldn’t wave around for everyone to see.

Yzhemal returned much faster than she had expected. Food should have taken longer to cook. And yet, he had a wooden tray in his hands as he started for the counter, only to stop and look around when he realized that she had disappeared.

Alyssa gave him a little wave from her corner of the room.

“Sorry,” she said as he approached. “I don’t like leaving people at my back for extended lengths of time.”

“Fair enough,” he said, sliding the tray in front of her.

She looked down and suddenly understood just why her meal had come faster than a modern fast food restaurant. A simple wooden bowl contained some kind of porridgey-oatmeal substance, plain and without color. Two slices of dry bread had been placed just to the side of the bowl, along with three carrots and a single stick of broccoli. Boiled, by the looks of them. Yzhemal likely had all three portions of her meal sitting in the back over some slow burning coals to keep them warm. No cooking required.

A far cry from the pig on a spit, grilled duck, or even roast suckling potatoes that she had expected from a medieval tavern. Hollywood had lied to her again. Then again, she wasn’t a paying customer. Why waste the good food on her?

“Thank you,” she said as she picked up the nearly flat wooden spoon. Packing a few pieces of silverware might be worth running back to the house for.

“Yeap. Come see me when you finish.”

Watching him walk away, Alyssa looked around at the other tables. Others had a bowl of porridge too, but there were other things set out in front of them. The boy in the colorful cloak had a few bones on a plate with a few scattered leaves. And the old man had a pie of some sort. A meat pie.

Alyssa dug her spoon into the thin porridge and brought it to her mouth before she could have second thoughts.

It didn’t taste like anything at all. Which, if she thought about it was better than some alternatives. No sugar. No salt. No spices of any kind. The important thing to remember was that it could easily have tasted like feet and she would have had no choice but to eat it or dig into her stores of granola bars.

At least he had brought along a small tankard of ale. One could never go wrong with a good beer. Taking in a mouthful, she held it there as she thought.

Do I spit it back out or man up and swallow it?

<– Back | Index | Next –>

 

002.003

Posted on by Tower Curator

<– Back | Index | Next –>

A Whole New World

A City..?

The last vestiges of light faded beyond the mountains. A dark shadow swept across the land as a confetti of stars twinkled through the twilight sky. One moment, it had been as bright as day. The next, not so much. The formerly pleasant breeze shifted to a chilly wind, stinging against Alyssa’s face and neck.

She hadn’t intended to stay out after dark. Upon setting out, she had vowed to begin the trek back to her… ‘home’ or whatever that building was if it got too late. But seeing the city in the distance awoke an eager longing for things to return to normal.

It hadn’t looked so far away from atop the hill. She had thought she would make it by lunchtime and still have plenty of time to return afterward if she needed. It didn’t help matters that her cell phone said it was only seven thirty in the evening. There should have been plenty of time before dark at the very least.

Which just meant that she was further from home than she thought. Maybe in another time zone even.

Alyssa clasped her hands to her arms, rubbing them up and down in an attempt to keep warm. A few hand warmers would have been nice to have. Her mother liked to attend football games at the local college, many of which were in the winter. Alyssa knew they had both chemical warmers and the fancy rechargeable electronic ones. It would have been a simple matter to slip them into her bag.

She just hadn’t thought about it.

Two grievous errors and it hadn’t been a full day yet.

The only reason she hadn’t panicked yet was her ability to create fire. The hatchet and fire starting equipment in her backpack would work fine on plenty of the trees she had passed. Probably. Any wood she collected from the trees might be too green to ignite well. Still, there should be dead branches scattered on the ground around the trees.

“Besides,” she mumbled to herself as she breathed hot air onto her hands, “it isn’t that cold yet. The city can’t be far.” While she could see light over the top of the next hill, she couldn’t help but wonder how often those words were the last from the mouths of people who froze to death.

Just one more hill. If the city wasn’t over the top of it, she would… probably go on to the next hill. Spending the night outside did not appeal to her in the slightest. She hadn’t brought any kind of sleeping bag or tent.

Ka-caw. Ka-caw.

And those ravens. Even in the barely-there light from the gray moon, Alyssa could see the beady little eyes watching her. Every tree she passed had a raven perched on the branches. She never saw them fly around and she never saw more than one at a time. Either they were everywhere, or one of them was sneaking around following her. Probably the latter. They all looked the same with their sleek black feathers and fiendish tuft beneath their beaks.

She could have turned on her flashlight and probably scared off the birds. However, if there were real predators around, the light might as well be a giant ‘all you can eat buffet’ sign. The moon had enough light. For now. If it dipped below the horizon as well, she would have no choice. But it wouldn’t for a while. The moon hung high in the sky, almost dead center. The rings were still present as well. She wasn’t sure how much light came off those, but a decent amount at least.

The more she walked, the more a scent tickled at her nose. A familiar scent, but one that she hadn’t been able to place until just now. Mint. Fields of fresh green mint. One of Alyssa’s favorite things about driving out on country roads. Of course, being in a car put a little space between her and the fields, even if she had the windows down. Actually walking through the knee-high plants was more akin to stuffing a bottle of mint extract up her nose. Far less pleasant, but she supposed there were worse smells around.

Roadkill skunk, the meatpacking plant, even the dairy farm constantly had a foul cloud of manure hanging about the place. In that respect, she much preferred the mint.

Reaching the top of the next hill, Alyssa froze in her tracks, all thoughts of smell vanished from her mind.

The city lay just at the bottom of the gentle slope. She had made it.

And yet… city just didn’t fit what she saw. Even town was too large of a word. Village? Maybe. Almost more of a commune. If it weren’t for the buildings being constructed from cobblestone halfway up then wood from there with slate tile roofs, she might have thought she had stumbled upon some sort of nomadic tribe. Most looked to be no larger than her parents’ bedroom. A few might have even been smaller. Two larger buildings sat to one side of the main village. They might have been barns with their large sides and angled roofs.

Black marble stretched high into the sky behind the village, towering over the tiny hovels. She had almost missed it with how the silhouette blended into the night. Only recalling the structure from when she had first seen the village and seeing it block out the rings in the sky made her look close enough to see it. And it didn’t match the village at all. Even aside from its material, it stood at least six stories tall, three times the height of the highest barn. That wasn’t including its steeples. Sharp Gothic spires with toothed edges capped the four corners with a fifth in the very center, higher than the rest. Tall windows glinted in the darkness, each with sharp arches at the top.

Alyssa stood staring at the unsettling building. Maybe if it had some lights brightening the steeples and windows, it wouldn’t be so bad. But it didn’t. Only the moon lit its dark, angled surfaces.

Even more ominous, a graveyard stretched out just behind it. She could see thousands of tiny tombstones, all in the same upright style with a pointed, triangular top. It had to be at least the size of the village. Maybe larger. And its inhabitants were packed in far denser than those of the small homes.

A gust of cold wind kicked up, forcing Alyssa into motion. Even if it was the scariest building she had ever seen complete with a giant graveyard next to it, she couldn’t stand around all night on the top of a hill.

Despite the apparently late hour, the city hadn’t fallen to sleep in the slightest. A bonfire raged in the center of the city with flames licking almost as high as the barns. People danced and partied around it. She could see their tiny figures rhythmically moving around the bonfire, occasionally dipping down all at once only to raise their hands above their heads in the next step.

Making her way down, Alyssa found her elation dying as she noticed more details about the village. Or rather, its people. As she made her way through the dirt streets, she passed by people gathered in groups. Everyone drank and laughed, several waved and smiled to her. A friendly bunch by all appearances. But their clothes had Alyssa feeling uncomfortable just looking at them. The cloth looked rough and shoddy. Perhaps not shoddy, but handmade. Entirely. As if not a single modern machine had been involved at any point during the construction of their outfits.

The men all wore long sleeve shirts with some kind of vest on top. The colors varied between black and brown for the vest, white and brown for the shirt. The women all wore long dresses that just barely didn’t drag on the ground. Both styles of clothes included a healthy coating of dirt. Some of the brown shirts might have been white at some point in time. Everyone without exception had some sort of hat covering the top of their heads.

“Ho, traveler!”

Alyssa jolted, realizing that one of them was speaking to her.

An older gentleman who, like most of the men around, had a full beard of scraggly hairs hanging from his chin. One hand loosely held the reins for a donkey that trailed just behind him, hauling a wagon filled with barrels that made a rickety squeak every few steps. He approached with a kind smile hidden behind his beard.

“Can I offer you a drink?” he asked, moving around to the side of his wagon and pulling a thick wooden mug from the back.

“No!” she said before he could start filling it from one of the kegs. Realizing how her outburst might have sounded and not wanting to offend the man while she needed help, she quickly added, “I mean, no thank you. Perhaps later. Actually, I need… I was hoping…” Alyssa trailed off, glancing around at the people, their clothes, the buildings, and finally the strange moon and rings in the sky. With a sigh, she looked back at the man. “I don’t suppose you know where America is?”

“America,” he repeated, running his meaty fingers through his beard. “Can’t say I know anyone with that name. Traveling companion of yours?”

“Something like that,” Alyssa said, shoulders slumping. That had been roughly what she had expected. Between the sky, how and where she woke, and this village, she had the distinct feeling that she wasn’t on Earth anymore. This all but confirmed it.

Apparently sensing her dejection, the man clasped a hand on her shoulder and gave her a comforting squeeze. “Don’t worry. You’ll want to check in with Yzhemal at the inn. Not a soul stops in town without him knowing.”

“Maybe I’ll do that,” she mumbled just as a sharp whistle split the air. Alyssa jumped, looking around until she noticed the trail of sparks in the sky over the bonfire. With a sharp crack, the air filled with colorful sparks. Several more whistles went off, each one accompanied by a crack and then lights in the sky.

The man, who had turned to watch the fireworks, clapped his hands together twice and bowed his head.

Once he finally lifted his head—Alyssa hadn’t wanted to interrupt him—she cleared her throat and said, “Some kind of festival going on?”

“You don’t know?” He turned back, still smiling but it no longer reached his dark eyes. “I’m sorry. I had assumed you were here on pilgrimage. Many take pilgrimage to participate in Messis Vespere.” Apparently seeing the blank look in her eyes, he continued. “For three days, we celebrate the beauty and grace of the divine Tenebrael with a grand closing ceremony in front of her temple at nightfall on the third day.”

“T-Tenebrael, I see,” Alyssa said, forcing herself to smile despite her increasingly dour mood. Figures, she would wind up in a town full of sycophants to that sadistic angel.

“You’ve heard of Her? Good, good!” Once again, his smile reached his eyes.

“You could say that.”

“Then come! Drink! Make merry! For the night is young and we have only just begun!”

The others in the street all raised their glasses and cheered out a joyous holler.

Alyssa felt her smile grow ever more strained. She had no desire to offend them. Especially not with anything that might be considered heresy against their ‘divine Tenebrael.’ Facing a lynch mob didn’t seem too healthy. At the same time, she had no desire to participate in celebrating such a terrible being.

“Actually, if you don’t mind, would you direct me to that inn? I fear my travels have made me quite weary.”

His face fell, but only for a moment. “Certainly,” he said. “Perhaps you might celebrate on the morrow.”

“Yeah. That sounds wonderful,” she said, hoping her flat voice was convincing enough.

<– Back | Index | Next –>