Part I- The Beast and the Droon

Chapter One

‡ Chellow Port, Lembroy ‡

          “S-Sir, where am I?” I asked the dark, hooded figure, clutching its robe with my shaking, tiny fist. I had no recollection of who I was, where I came from, and what I was doing in a creaky boat with this shadowed figure and all the smutty people aboard. The only thing I did know was that I was alone, and that I most certainly needed answers.

          The people on board seemed to cringe at the sound of my voice, as though it damaged their large ears just to listen to me. (Though peculiar it was, these dirty people had one thing in common- large, floppy, protruding ears.) However, the figure stood with its covered face pointed in the direction the boat was heading—towards a grimy, boisterous port, with boats and junkies (Japanese fishing boats) littering the whole area; and the foreboding, polluted sky reeking the city with a rotting smell. This was the single image of hell that would haunt my childhood.

          When the boat landed into an empty lot (none too gently either) the captain of the boat entered the deck through a small door, which I had not noticed. He then roared in a hoarse, gritty voice, “Ye’s here! Ev’rybody off’n da boat! Ye’s hear?”

          Through my dim recollection, I can remember my fear when the captain seized the collar of my jacket and said in a grumpy whisper, “Whe’s ye’s parents? Argh! Say’s it, ye hear gut?”

          The man’s unclear dialect and the beads of saliva that flew mercilessly upon my face distressed me horribly as I says, “Sir, I do not know where my parents are…Please, sir, lemme go!”

          I am afraid that the man was becoming rather annoyed by my shaking speech, and was about to snarl another question, when an elegant elder with snow-white mane, placed his withered hand upon his shoulder. The captain slightly grimaced as he released my collar roughly, coughed something dreadful, stalked towards his door, and then disappeared below deck. I stared at this senior with tearful eyes and by a child’s instinct; I wrapped my arms around his waist, and buried my drenched face into his chest.  

          I was to later know him by as Father Godrith, the one who would save my life on one too many occasions from that day forward.

          For an old man, he was in considerable shape, and my awkward, stocky feet constantly got caught in the uneven cobblestones that covered the roads. I followed him wordlessly, since he had clearly said before striding into the bustling traffic, “Follow me, child, your home awaits thee.”

          He led me away from the cloudless, stuffy port to an area covered with grassy hills and tall, ancient trees. It amazed me to see the dust-filled air clear away to delicious, unsoiled air, as we distanced ourselves farther and farther away from the port. I began to notice that the sky was blue and the charming “chirp-chiirr-uupppp!” made by the small, purple-eyed Isiago canaries. We reached our destination at the mouth of a curious cavern about an hour later.

          The mouth of the cavern looked extremely hungry to my young, imaginative eyes, as I stayed a hair’s breath away from the elder, as we entered slowly. Our footsteps echoed dryly in the long tunnel. Though there was light in the beginning of our journey, after twenty paces, the air became colder and moldier (I could see my breathing in wispy clouds) and the bright sunlight could be seen no more.  I says softly to myself, “It’s getting darker”.

          As hard as it may seem (because of the dratted darkness), I could just barely see a thin smile forming on his lips, as though my childish actions were amusing. When it came to the point where I was just about to give up the whole thing and start crying, the elder said in a deep, melodious voice, “We are here, young Master. Thy home is here.”

          I blinked away potential tears, as I peered curiously behind the senior, and to my astonishment, I saw a hole carved right through the rocky floor with a ladder jutting out. I took a rabbit’s step towards the hole and the ladder, turned around, received the elder’s approving nod, and continued towards the hole and down the ladder.

          And beholden to my flabbergasted eyes, a bustling town sat peacefully before me, like a feast of wonderful, picturesque things before a young prince. I says to the elder, “Is-is this real? Or am I dreaming? How can there be a town—“

          “Hush, we are late.”

          I hushed and when we reached solid rock, I once again followed the elder through the winding streets and the odd-looking people. I was startled to come across a pair of giants gobbling four pigs, two turkeys, and a cow that were roasting whole over a fire pit. There was also an eerie tent with melancholy music pouring out, dozens of booze houses with beautiful ghosts moaning a haunting welcome, men with long wands and women with tall, pointy hats and queer staffs, creatures of fairytale wonders and others that were just plain-out-of-this-world.

          Suddenly, something flashed through my eyes, and then disappeared in nanoseconds. Something…something in my gut was forewarning me of something. (I just couldn’t put my finger on it yet!) However, I shook myself of any doubts I had, and decided to focus my eyes on the white-haired senior, who I was constantly losing track of.

          Once again, the elder stopped, and I waited patiently until he spoke.

          “Child, what is your name?”

          I answer, “I do not know of my name, sir.”

          “Good. Let us enter your home, young one.”

          With that, the senior retrieved a wand out of his sleeve, whispered a single spell, and a door appeared before my eyes. To some minor disappointment, the door was nothing but a plain, rice-paper sliding door, used commonly in Asian cultures. Painted on the door, were some slashes, symbols (which I could not decipher), and a large flame of red, orange, and yellow.

          We entered through the door, and when we slid the door shut; all of the raucous street noises disappeared altogether. Suddenly, my cheeks flushed madly, and my head felt warm and woozy and my hands felt like ice. The temperature of the room was sweltering hot, and I could see waves of heat emitting from the floors.

          “Where are we?”

          “A bathhouse.” He answered with such deliberate punctuation, that I kept the rest of my questions in my throat instead of my mouth. 

          He then motioned me to undo the straps of my sandals, and to place them in a corner, which was presumably, where all the shoes were placed. The elder did just the same, and afterwards, we walked quite solemnly down the “steaming” hallway. The floor was like burning coals on my feet, but the senior walked gracefully across the floor, like a swan in water.

          The closer we came towards the end of the hallway of rice-paper doors, the hotter and harder it was for me to breath. Behind the rice-paper doors, I could see the shadowed outlines of people…or perhaps creatures….for sure, something was moving about, but not a single sound could be heard. It was fascinating and horrifying at the same time to be surrounded by at least fifty people, and not hear anything at all!

          When we did reach the end of the hallway, I noticed that there were two narrow hallways on either side of us. We took a right. We took a left. We took another left. Right, right, left, right, and finally, a final door stood before us with grand apparel. By now, I was exhausted, and I realized that the air was much cooler around this area; then it was back in the entrance hallway, and all the other hallways. The door itself represented fortune and wealth, for it was the size fit for a giant, and made of dark redwood and encrusted with diamonds, sparkling jewels, and assorted gems that only jewelry crafters ought to know.

          “Lovely.” I whisper, once again, to myself.

          “Indeed.” was the reply.

          And then, the door opened and my eyes ogled at the magnificent young girl before me…

AN: Hello! The language, dialect, and some words, are entirely from my head, as well as some of the creatures that I wrote about. This is not science (thank god, I get enough from school) nor is it meant to be a writing assignment. This is in the narrator’s point of view, and I promise you will get to know who he is in the next chapter! Thank you for reading!