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    David McLeod
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Durch Ferne Welten und Zeiten - 12. Chapter 12: On the Eastern Continent

Chapter 12: On the Eastern Continent

The instant Marty opened the compartment, and some 5,000 miles away, across the eastern sea, a boy who had been a dragonrider in another time looked up from his work. My books? My books! They are here!

* * * * *

“How is Xander?” Phillip asked.

Shortly after they had arrived in Argon’s town and time, Javari and Maranon had bartered their services for a share in a fishing boat larger than the second Xander, the one on which they’d crossed the sea to Elvenhold. It had taken nearly 40 years, but now they owned the boat outright. As soon as she was theirs, they renamed her.

“She’s shipshape and Bristol fashion,” Javari smiled.

“Would you like to go out with us tomorrow?” Maranon asked.

“How would you feel about returning to the western continent—the western continent of this era?” Phillip asked.

“If that is what you want, of course it is what I want, as well,” Javari said.

“I don’t like asking you to risk your ship,” Phillip said. “You and Maranon worked so hard—”

“But Xander is not our ship,” Maranon said. “She is yours, as is everything we have. Our oaths still bind us.”

Phillip was stunned. “I didn’t know that was part of the oath!” he protested.

Maranon hugged Phillip. “I’m so glad we can still surprise you,” he whispered.

“The books—the ones that were left behind when we came here from that cave?” Phillip began. To the other boys’ nods, he continued. “They’re here, now. Not here as in Beringia, but here as in this time. And they’re somewhere to the southwest. Possibly in the cave from which we left. I would like to find them. I would like to know where they’ve been. I would like to know why I felt them, and why it was only today that I did.”

Interlude: Kevin and Mark’s Meeting on Their Earth

Kevin had asked Petrus to instruct him in alchemy. Petrus was reluctant, at first, perhaps remembering the explosion a few years ago that had nearly killed him, Gary, and George. However, Chandler agreed to supervise. Everyone was pleased with that. There could be no one better at controlling a run-away exogonic or endogonic reaction than Chandler, the “Master of Fire.”

Kevin seemed to have a knack for alchemy, and his progress impressed even Master Criticus. One day, after a very difficult experiment was completed without a flaw, Chandler grabbed Kevin in a hug, picked him up, and whirled him around. “That was—”

Chandler released Kevin and stepped back. “Oh shit, Kevin! What did I do? I’m so sorry!”

Kevin dropped to the floor, grabbed his knees and put his head between them, and started crying. Chandler knelt beside him but before Chandler’s hand reached Kevin’s shoulder, Kevin sobbed, “No . . . no . . . no . . . don’t touch me . . . don’t touch me . . .”

Mark burst into the laboratory, summoned by Petrus. He knelt beside Kevin, who did allow Mark to hug him. By this time, Alexis, Billy, and Master Criticus had arrived. Billy looked at Kevin, and felt his agony. Sweat beaded Billy’s forehead and his mouth opened as if to scream. He gulped a great breath of air, and let it out with a rush. “He hurts,” Billy said the obvious.

No one knew what Mark whispered to Kevin, but eventually his sobs subsided. Mark held his friend tightly and took him to the dormitory.

“Master Criticus, does this fall in my responsibilities?” Alexis asked after Mark and Kevin had left.

The master nodded. “Until you find yourself in need of help,” he said.

“How did it start?” Alexis asked.

Chandler explained what he had done, and Kevin’s reaction. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea. We’ve hugged, before; we’ve shared. I’ve never seen him like that.”

“You lifted him from the floor? Spun him around?” Alexis asked. Chandler nodded. “That triggered something, a memory, that was so terrifying it overwrote all the trust and love you had built with him. It’s not your fault; there’s no way, short of psychoanalyzing him, that you could have known.”

Alexis turned to Billy. “What did you feel?”

Billy was trembling; Petrus moved toward him and offered a hug. Billy accepted, and for a moment, was silent. Then, “When two empaths share as much as Kevin and I have shared, they form a bond that goes beyond the usual. I saw things that were horrible. Things that would justify executing the perpetrator. Things that I will never forget, they were so vivid.

“But,” he added, “they were Kevin’s memories, and I cannot tell you unless he says I might.” The boy’s voice was firm, and his face showed only a tight-lipped look of determination.

Alexis nodded. “You are right, Billy. But I must know one thing: did these things happen on World, or before?”

“They happened before,” Billy said. “Why does that matter?”

“Because if they had happened on World, I would consider it my duty—all of our duty—to find the perpetrator and ensure that he never could do whatever it was he did, ever.”

 

It was not until the next day that Alexis approached Kevin. He brought Billy and Mark to the library where Kevin was reading. Kevin’s attitude conveyed insouciance: his eyes were not focused on the pages in front of him, but somewhere or somewhen else. He turned pages without looking at them.

“Kevin, you slept badly last night. The memory that was awakened still troubles you,” Alexis began. I’m not going to cut him any slack. He’s sixteen; he’s been on World for six months. He’s an empath and a star student. He cannot be allowed to fall into this pit, which is in his mind and of his own making.

“We are your friends; we love you. We want you to feel good, we want you to shake off this memory. Let us help you.” No please, no false encouragement; ‘just the facts.’

“I’ll be okay,” Kevin said, and looked down into the book.

“You’ll be okay only if you can face and destroy this memory,” Alexis said. He reached out and took the book.

“Hey!” Kevin said. Only when he looked up did he see and feel what Alexis was feeling. He really does love me, even though he and Rudy are best-boyfriends-forever, he loves me.

Billy sensed what Alexis and Kevin were thinking. “So do I,” he said. “Love you, that is. And so do we all. You’d know that if you looked for it.”

Kevin nodded at Billy. “You’re right. This place is filled with love. And so many different kinds! Even Master Criticus, who is so strict—”

Billy had sat on one side of Kevin; Alexis pulled a chair to the other side, and put his arm on Kevin’s shoulder. “May we talk, now? I would like Billy to stay. Mark, too, if it’s all right with you.”

Kevin nodded. “But not here. Somewhere private.”

 

The bright sunshine and clear sky of a fall afternoon seemed even nicer from the roof of the college. The boys sat, tailor-fashion, on the warm stones. Billy and Mark sat on either side of Kevin; Alexis sat facing him.

“It’s about how Mark and I became friends,” Kevin said. “Mark and Rudy know that my older brother used to rape me. My father? He wouldn’t stop it. He threatened me with juvie . . . jail . . . prison . . . imprisonment . . .” Kevin groped for a word that Billy would understand.

“Sometimes, my brother would bring one of his friends over to share me. Once, they decided that raping me wasn’t enough. They took me to the friend’s house—to the basement. They stripped me naked, tied my hands together, ran a rope over a ceiling beam, and pulled me off the floor. They stuck a gag in my mouth, so I couldn’t even scream. They spun me around while they whipped me. Then they raped me.

“I know that’s not what Chandler was going to do, but that was all I could think of: spinning around, my hands tied together, whips beating me. My brother seemed to get a special thrill when his whip hit my penis.”

“How did this . . . I mean, you said this was about how you and Mark got together,” Billy said.

Kevin smiled; this was a good memory. “We lived near Mark. I didn’t know him, though. My brother brought me back home. I think he was afraid he’d gone too far, and my father wouldn’t like it. So, he dumped me two blocks from our home and told me that I’d better say someone picked me up and did this because if I blamed him, he’d kill me.

“He dumped me in front of Mark’s place. I was naked, bleeding, and crying.

“It was summer, and Mark’s windows were open. He heard me and came out. I think, maybe, I was a little bit of an empath, even then, because I felt the horror, the sadness, and love . . . when he saw me.”

“I think you felt lust,” Mark giggled, and then said. “But it didn’t take long before I loved you.”

Kevin smiled. “Mark helped me inside, held me up in the shower. We got water all over the floor. He cleaned my wounds with rubbing alcohol. It hurt like hell, but that’s all he had. He put a clean t-shirt and shorts on me, and put me in his own bed. He sat up all night, giving me water and comforting me when I’d wake up screaming.

“The next morning, he bought some cream to put on my cuts. He finished my chest and tummy, and put a little cream on his finger. ‘I’m going to do your penis, now, okay?’

“I still hurt, and I’d been raped not 12 hours before, but my penis got hard, super hard. I blushed and stammered. Mark kissed my cheek and said, ‘It’s okay; I’ve got one, too.’ He was so gentle.

“Two weeks later, we spent the night at Mark’s home. My brother was getting it from his girlfriend; Mark’s mother was in some motel with one of her boyfriends; we had the place to ourselves.

“I’m afraid I seduced Mark. I asked him if he remembered putting the cream on my penis. When he blushed and said he remembered, I asked him if there were any left. He nearly broke a leg running to the bathroom to get it.”

Mark giggled, and blushed.

Kevin explained, “We had sex for the first time, that night—”

“Actually,” Mark interrupted, “we had it for the first and second times that night. You were intense! I used to have an outie bellybutton. After that night, I’ve been an innie.” Now, Kevin was blushing.

A long silence gave Mark and Billy time to hug Kevin, and Kevin time to wipe a few tears from his eyes.

“I’m not going to ask if you’re okay, Kevin,” Alexis said. “But I will ask if you’re okay enough to give this a chance to heal, and if you’d like more help. There’s a boy at the Temple named Paul. He’s a friend of Petrus and some of the other boys. He’s also a healer. He could help you with that memory.”

“You mean, make me forget it?” Kevin said.

“No, not forget,” Alexis said. “That would not be a good idea. It’s an important part of you, and it’s a critical part of how you met Mark. If it were erased, there would be too many loose ends.

“No, what he can do is help you compartmentalize this memory, and, well, put a blanket over it so that it no longer demands your attention.”

Kevin nodded. “I’d like that,” he said.

Phillip Arrives in Barrone

The Xander flew the flag of Elvenhold, a white courtesy flag, and a swallow from the topmost mast. Phillip had decided to fly the Elvish flag, despite Javari’s objections. “We are all citizens of Elvenhold, even though the king who made us so has been dead for thousands of years.”

Phillip’s breath caught in his throat. Justine, too, and all our friends. Dead for tens of thousands of years. He brightened with the memory of the eternal promises they had made, to seek one another in future lifetimes. And won’t they be surprised to know we got here first!

The harbormaster was surprised by the elven flag and more surprised when a sembler attested to the truth of Phillip’s declaration of citizenship. The Xander was allowed to dock, and her passengers to disembark. “We are allied with Elvenhold,” the harbormaster said. “Under that treaty, be welcome.”

Javari and Maranon saw to the security of the boat, then they all walked a bit on the quay to get their land-legs.

“How will we find the books?” Argon asked.

“We will walk in that direction,” Phillip said, and pointed inland. “They call to me, still, and even more strongly than before.”

*****

The door to the College of Magic opened to a narrow hallway. A few feet from the door, a small table constricted the hallway. Behind the desk sat a boy with blonde hair. He wore a blue tunic belted at his waist, and sandals. He smiled. “Welcome to the College of Magic. My name is Petrus. What do you seek?”

“My name is Phillip. You have some books that belong to me.”

*****

The fire had burned out during Phillip’s story. Marty put a new log on the firedogs, and Chandler gestured it alight. The buildings of the college were sturdy, but a storm from the sea forced cold through chinks in rock and wood.

“There is no doubt that these books are yours,” Marty gestured to the six books that lay on the table. “There is no doubt that you are from Earth, but not our Earth.”

“It would be fascinating,” Chandler said, “to catalogue the differences between our worlds, and to find out when they diverged.”

“Is that your belief?” Phillip asked.

“It is,” Chandler said. “We have read stories of people from Earth who visited World or who came here to stay. There are hints, seldom clear, that suggest there are many Earths, but there is never any indication that there is but one World—this one.”

“You traveled in time at least twice, I think,” Marty said. “With one exception, all the stories of Earth begin in the late 20th or early 21st century. Phillip and Argon traveled back in time. Yes, back, given what we know of Elven history when they first got here. Then, they traveled forward in time to get here, to Argon’s time.”

“But we lived in Argon’s home for what, sixty years before coming here,” Phillip protested.

“Either time flows at different rates, or Argon traveled forward in time when he came to your Earth,” Alexis said. “Since we know that the gates move in time, then I’ll take that as the simpler explanation; time flowing at different rates isn’t required to explain Argon’s movement.”

Chandler nodded. “The simpler explanation, although I’ll bet even Albert Einstein wouldn’t have thought of time travel as simple.”

“Who?” Phillip asked.

“Well, there’s one difference,” Marty said.

“Where is all this leading?” Chandler asked.

“To one conclusion: we’re supposed to be here, at this time. Something is going to happen, and we’re going to be part of it,” Alexis said. “All of us, in fact.”

“What about the boys from Wyoming?” Phillip asked. “Paul and Larry.”

“My guess? They’re supposed to be part of it, too,” Chandler said.

“So, do we have to go find them? Open a gate like Phillip did—or Arthur, although he denied that he did it?” Rudy asked. He’d been quiet until now, absorbing what was said, trying to reconcile it with his memories and his stories.

Are we all catspaws? Alexis wondered. Is there something other than a powerful elven mage guiding us?

“No!” Alexis said. “Not supposed to be. That presumes too much. It presumes someone with incredible power is guiding us; it presumes someone has set into motion millennia ago an incredibly complex clockwork of cause and effect. It presumes that we are catspaws without free will. I can argue logically against all but the last point. That point, I refuse to accept just because I don’t want it to be!”

Copyright © 2013 David McLeod; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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