The Journey, Book 2; Chapter 4 - Previous Chapter
Chapter 5, Triggers
As dawn breaks over Edena, Nekonata prepares to depart on a diplomatic mission to the Buradoth Mountains, where he is to meet with the reclusive dwarves as an ambassador of peace. He mounts his chestnut bay mare, Myrtle, her warm breath curling in the morning chill. The path ahead glistens with dew and promise, until something in the corner of his eye halts him mid-motion.
A flicker of shadow.
His hands tighten on the reins. His body stiffens, then begins to convulse violently. A flood of memories, long-buried and dust-covered, surged back. A darkened room. Flickering candlelight. The suddenly:-
Neko happily tucked into the grilled duck and boiled potatoes, he looked around and saw everyone smiling and laughing and having a great time. A small old hunched lady walked forward, with a crooked smile, and pale coloured eyes, her hood drawn over her face, offered to refill Neko's goblet, "Thank you ma'am, but please leave the jug here, have some food and celebrate with us." He offered the lady a plate, she was hesitant to take it at first, but at Neko's polite insistence did so. "The grilled duck is sooo good!" He said, rolling his eyes dramatically. "Would you like some?" The old hooded woman nodded her head softly and put some grilled duck on her plate. He offered more food, but she refused.
"Such a nice, polite gentleman you are." She said to him with a creepy croaking voice and she quickly wandered away.
He drank, and it cost him dearly. He’d fallen into a coma soon after, his mind trapped in a prison of shadow and dream. He had forgotten, until now. As Myrtle rears in alarm beneath him, the waking world collapses into a swirl of memory. Something has returned. And this time, it wants more than silence.
Vivi, noticing something was amiss, ran forward, several others following suit, Kristi and Santi stood up on their back legs whimpering.
“Myrtle, Myrtle calm down my friend, calm down” Jason said to the horse holding her reins, while patting her neck.
Vivi reached up grabbing Neko by the waist, pulling him down the saddle as careful as he could. “Neko what is it? Are you ok my boy?”
Slowly and groggily coming back round he pointed over Vivi’s shoulder in the direction of where he saw the shadow. “Old woman… hunched back…”
Vivi looked behind but could only see Tabby the werecat lay on a balcony rail. “It’s just Tabby, there’s no one else there.”
Neko shook his head, still pointing, “Old lady… hunched back…”
Santaya pulled his wineskin from the saddle of Myrtle’s saddle and dragged it to Neko, he took it and patted her on the head while taking a big gulp of water from it.
“I saw a shadow… over there, then in my mind I was at some party, people were wishing me happy birthday… I saw an old woman, with a hunched back, a crooked smile, she looked frail… harmless even… offered to pour me a drink, I offered food, told her to celebrate with us, then I drank… and everything went… black.” Neko said, shaking a little.
“Cole, Dean and Mark, go check that property, look for someone matching that description.” Vivi asked, the three soldiers nodded and walked to the property.
The three soldiers, Cole, Dean, and Mark, stepped cautiously into the sprawling manor, their boots echoing off the marble floors like whispers of a long-forgotten past. The once-opulent estate of the noble family who vanished during the last war was cloaked in stillness. Every piece of furniture stood like a ghost, draped in dusty white sheets that billowed softly in the draft.
Sunlight filtered through tall, cracked windows, casting long shadows and revealing trails left by rodents and time. No voices answered their call. No footsteps returned their cautious approach.
Room by room, they cleared the house, silent, methodical, thorough. But there was no sign of life. Not until they stepped onto the upper balcony, where warm afternoon light touched something strange.
There, lounging on the stone railing as if it had always belonged to her, was Tabby—the werecat. Her striped fur glinted gold in the sun, her tail lazily flicking back and forth. Half-asleep, half-smirking, she cracked open one yellow eye and purred without moving:
“Hmm…” The werecat yawned. “Always interesting when No Name regains a memory is it not?”
Something about her tone said she’d been expecting Nekonata to regain a memory.
“Yes, I guess so.” Cole replied softly, he waved down to Vivi who looked up, Cole shook his head and did a hand gesture to say the place was all clear. Then he turned back to the werecat.
“Do you live here Tabby?”
The werecat stretched, her claws scraping against the stone of the balcony, before retracting. She curled back up. “Live here? No, but linger I do, wherever I please…” She replied black with a grin revealing her sharp fangs.
“Cole has cleared the house, the shadow of Tabby must have triggered your memory flashback. It happened at your 13th birthday party, on that day Meera gave you that necklace as a gift, it’s enchanted with protections by Meera herself, we think the poison was very much meant to kill you, but as a result the necklace saved your life, making you unfortunately go into a coma.”
Neko looked at Kristolia and Santaya as he stroked their fur, “Two memories, and both somehow related to Meera… Wait, who was the old woman?” Suddenly remembering the frail lady again.
“I suspect that it was Patricia Agatha, Rubian Blackthorn's mother.” Vivi said quietly, “But why she’d come all the way here to do something like this by herself is a question in itself.”
“Don’t forget Master Vivi,” Cole said, now standing by their side again. “Tarasque and Dyffros were ambushed by Rubian himself around about the same time…”
Vivi looked up at Cole, “Yes, quite right you are, so it would seem they were divided to try and end both of their lives at the same time…”
Nekonata stood up, shakily at first, Vivi stood up taking the boy's arm, “I’m ok, thank you.” He said to Vivi gently pushing his arm away. “The old woman is responsible for my coma, while Rubian is responsible for Tarasque’s coma… but who told them to do what they did?”
Vivi sighed heavily, “That would be the King, King Thomaz. He’s responsible for a lot of the wars in this land, for all the pain and hurt, and the losses of life.”
“But why would he be threatened by me and Tarasque?”
“Your guess is as good as ours.” Vivi said, nodding his head, “Are you still ok to go to Buradoth?”
Nekonata stretched, bouncing on the heels of his feet, a look of determination on his face. “Yes, I’m good to go, we’re good to go aren’t we girls?” Santaya and Kristolia bounced on their front paws, barking excitedly. Neko put one foot in Myrtle’s stirrups and pulled himself back onto the saddle. Santi and Kristolia stood either side of the chestnut bay mare. Vivi handed him his wineskin, and Neko nodded in thanks.
“Be safe, all of you.”
“Wait! Wait a second!” Tarasque called out running towards them. Neko glanced at Vivi who shrugged his shoulders, so he turned in his saddle and patiently waited for the curly red head to catch up. “I wanted to wish you good luck on your journey, Neko,” She said, panting, “I made you this, for your journey.” Tarasque handed a freshly made loaf of bread with a cheese crust.
Neko smiled, taking the fresh bread from her, “Thank you Tarasque, I shall savour every bite!” He carefully put the bread in his bag, and tapped Myrtle in her side, making her slowly trot forward through the portcullis gates of Edena and back out into the wilderness.
Not long after setting off, Kristolia looks to her left and barks excitedly, Neko looks to his left and sees the large raven Loki flying low towards them, pulling Myrtle to a stop he raises his arm for Loki to land on it, and Loki does landing softly. “Bloody hell Loki, long time no see. I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about us.”
“Forgotten you? Not bloody likely!” Squawked the raven.
“Still the same old Loki!” Neko chuckled.
As the group travelled, Loki flying low, they came upon a place where the world seemed to split in two, a sharp border where green, thriving earth gave way to a sun-baked wasteland of sand and stone. The trees ended in a jagged line, and beyond it, the air itself felt harsher, thinner… older.
There, amidst the scorched dunes, he saw a gathering of people unlike any he had ever encountered. Their skin was dark and leathery, drawn tightly over sinewy frames. Their faces were sharp, almost birdlike, with beak-shaped noses and small, glinting black eyes that reflected no warmth. They moved with a tense, hunched grace, whispering in a language that sounded more like hissing wind than speech.
Among them, women were chained, their arms bound and eyes downcast, as several of the strange figures dragged them into a tent marked with red ochre symbols.
From his perch above, Loki’s feathers bristled. The wind carried no answers, only questions.
They watched from a ridge of stone, shadows among the wind-blown rocks.
Loki perched in silence,his wings tucked in, his keen eyes fixed on the strange camp below. Beside him crouched Santaya and Kristolia, their fur bristling, ears pinned back in unease. Neko, crouched low between them, fingers brushing the hilt of his trusty purple sword.
Below, the leathery-skinned people moved about their camp with strange ritualistic precision. Fires crackled. Tents shuddered in the dry wind. The chained women were gathered outside as the sun baked they're barely clothed skin, until one was dragged screaming into the largest tent, her voice raw with terror.
Then it came.
A blood-curdling scream, sharp and soul-deep, pierced the air, followed by cheering. Wild, and guttural. The strange figures raised their arms and howled as if in celebration, their eyes gleaming with something cruel.
No one moved. Not yet.
Gabija, silently crept forward, her eyes fixed on the tent ahead, Neko nodded. Gabija whispered, “Undgrolls, they are cannibals.” Neko looked at her shocked, and then silently heaved.
“Where do they come from?” He whispered to the clan leader, who shook her head. “What are you doing here?”
“Patrolling, we heard a rumor of strange creatures kidnapping women during the night, so we came to investigate, what are you doing here?”
“Heading to see King Althor in Buradoth.” There was another blood curdling scream that made the hairs on their arms and neck stand on end. “We’ve got to help them somehow…”
Chapter 5, Triggers
As dawn breaks over Edena, Nekonata prepares to depart on a diplomatic mission to the Buradoth Mountains, where he is to meet with the reclusive dwarves as an ambassador of peace. He mounts his chestnut bay mare, Myrtle, her warm breath curling in the morning chill. The path ahead glistens with dew and promise, until something in the corner of his eye halts him mid-motion.
A flicker of shadow.
His hands tighten on the reins. His body stiffens, then begins to convulse violently. A flood of memories, long-buried and dust-covered, surged back. A darkened room. Flickering candlelight. The suddenly:-
Neko happily tucked into the grilled duck and boiled potatoes, he looked around and saw everyone smiling and laughing and having a great time. A small old hunched lady walked forward, with a crooked smile, and pale coloured eyes, her hood drawn over her face, offered to refill Neko's goblet, "Thank you ma'am, but please leave the jug here, have some food and celebrate with us." He offered the lady a plate, she was hesitant to take it at first, but at Neko's polite insistence did so. "The grilled duck is sooo good!" He said, rolling his eyes dramatically. "Would you like some?" The old hooded woman nodded her head softly and put some grilled duck on her plate. He offered more food, but she refused.
"Such a nice, polite gentleman you are." She said to him with a creepy croaking voice and she quickly wandered away.
He drank, and it cost him dearly. He’d fallen into a coma soon after, his mind trapped in a prison of shadow and dream. He had forgotten, until now. As Myrtle rears in alarm beneath him, the waking world collapses into a swirl of memory. Something has returned. And this time, it wants more than silence.
Vivi, noticing something was amiss, ran forward, several others following suit, Kristi and Santi stood up on their back legs whimpering.
“Myrtle, Myrtle calm down my friend, calm down” Jason said to the horse holding her reins, while patting her neck.
Vivi reached up grabbing Neko by the waist, pulling him down the saddle as careful as he could. “Neko what is it? Are you ok my boy?”
Slowly and groggily coming back round he pointed over Vivi’s shoulder in the direction of where he saw the shadow. “Old woman… hunched back…”
Vivi looked behind but could only see Tabby the werecat lay on a balcony rail. “It’s just Tabby, there’s no one else there.”
Neko shook his head, still pointing, “Old lady… hunched back…”
Santaya pulled his wineskin from the saddle of Myrtle’s saddle and dragged it to Neko, he took it and patted her on the head while taking a big gulp of water from it.
“I saw a shadow… over there, then in my mind I was at some party, people were wishing me happy birthday… I saw an old woman, with a hunched back, a crooked smile, she looked frail… harmless even… offered to pour me a drink, I offered food, told her to celebrate with us, then I drank… and everything went… black.” Neko said, shaking a little.
“Cole, Dean and Mark, go check that property, look for someone matching that description.” Vivi asked, the three soldiers nodded and walked to the property.
The three soldiers, Cole, Dean, and Mark, stepped cautiously into the sprawling manor, their boots echoing off the marble floors like whispers of a long-forgotten past. The once-opulent estate of the noble family who vanished during the last war was cloaked in stillness. Every piece of furniture stood like a ghost, draped in dusty white sheets that billowed softly in the draft.
Sunlight filtered through tall, cracked windows, casting long shadows and revealing trails left by rodents and time. No voices answered their call. No footsteps returned their cautious approach.
Room by room, they cleared the house, silent, methodical, thorough. But there was no sign of life. Not until they stepped onto the upper balcony, where warm afternoon light touched something strange.
There, lounging on the stone railing as if it had always belonged to her, was Tabby—the werecat. Her striped fur glinted gold in the sun, her tail lazily flicking back and forth. Half-asleep, half-smirking, she cracked open one yellow eye and purred without moving:
“Hmm…” The werecat yawned. “Always interesting when No Name regains a memory is it not?”
Something about her tone said she’d been expecting Nekonata to regain a memory.
“Yes, I guess so.” Cole replied softly, he waved down to Vivi who looked up, Cole shook his head and did a hand gesture to say the place was all clear. Then he turned back to the werecat.
“Do you live here Tabby?”
The werecat stretched, her claws scraping against the stone of the balcony, before retracting. She curled back up. “Live here? No, but linger I do, wherever I please…” She replied black with a grin revealing her sharp fangs.
“Cole has cleared the house, the shadow of Tabby must have triggered your memory flashback. It happened at your 13th birthday party, on that day Meera gave you that necklace as a gift, it’s enchanted with protections by Meera herself, we think the poison was very much meant to kill you, but as a result the necklace saved your life, making you unfortunately go into a coma.”
Neko looked at Kristolia and Santaya as he stroked their fur, “Two memories, and both somehow related to Meera… Wait, who was the old woman?” Suddenly remembering the frail lady again.
“I suspect that it was Patricia Agatha, Rubian Blackthorn's mother.” Vivi said quietly, “But why she’d come all the way here to do something like this by herself is a question in itself.”
“Don’t forget Master Vivi,” Cole said, now standing by their side again. “Tarasque and Dyffros were ambushed by Rubian himself around about the same time…”
Vivi looked up at Cole, “Yes, quite right you are, so it would seem they were divided to try and end both of their lives at the same time…”
Nekonata stood up, shakily at first, Vivi stood up taking the boy's arm, “I’m ok, thank you.” He said to Vivi gently pushing his arm away. “The old woman is responsible for my coma, while Rubian is responsible for Tarasque’s coma… but who told them to do what they did?”
Vivi sighed heavily, “That would be the King, King Thomaz. He’s responsible for a lot of the wars in this land, for all the pain and hurt, and the losses of life.”
“But why would he be threatened by me and Tarasque?”
“Your guess is as good as ours.” Vivi said, nodding his head, “Are you still ok to go to Buradoth?”
Nekonata stretched, bouncing on the heels of his feet, a look of determination on his face. “Yes, I’m good to go, we’re good to go aren’t we girls?” Santaya and Kristolia bounced on their front paws, barking excitedly. Neko put one foot in Myrtle’s stirrups and pulled himself back onto the saddle. Santi and Kristolia stood either side of the chestnut bay mare. Vivi handed him his wineskin, and Neko nodded in thanks.
“Be safe, all of you.”
“Wait! Wait a second!” Tarasque called out running towards them. Neko glanced at Vivi who shrugged his shoulders, so he turned in his saddle and patiently waited for the curly red head to catch up. “I wanted to wish you good luck on your journey, Neko,” She said, panting, “I made you this, for your journey.” Tarasque handed a freshly made loaf of bread with a cheese crust.
Neko smiled, taking the fresh bread from her, “Thank you Tarasque, I shall savour every bite!” He carefully put the bread in his bag, and tapped Myrtle in her side, making her slowly trot forward through the portcullis gates of Edena and back out into the wilderness.
Not long after setting off, Kristolia looks to her left and barks excitedly, Neko looks to his left and sees the large raven Loki flying low towards them, pulling Myrtle to a stop he raises his arm for Loki to land on it, and Loki does landing softly. “Bloody hell Loki, long time no see. I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about us.”
“Forgotten you? Not bloody likely!” Squawked the raven.
“Still the same old Loki!” Neko chuckled.
As the group travelled, Loki flying low, they came upon a place where the world seemed to split in two, a sharp border where green, thriving earth gave way to a sun-baked wasteland of sand and stone. The trees ended in a jagged line, and beyond it, the air itself felt harsher, thinner… older.
There, amidst the scorched dunes, he saw a gathering of people unlike any he had ever encountered. Their skin was dark and leathery, drawn tightly over sinewy frames. Their faces were sharp, almost birdlike, with beak-shaped noses and small, glinting black eyes that reflected no warmth. They moved with a tense, hunched grace, whispering in a language that sounded more like hissing wind than speech.
Among them, women were chained, their arms bound and eyes downcast, as several of the strange figures dragged them into a tent marked with red ochre symbols.
From his perch above, Loki’s feathers bristled. The wind carried no answers, only questions.
They watched from a ridge of stone, shadows among the wind-blown rocks.
Loki perched in silence,his wings tucked in, his keen eyes fixed on the strange camp below. Beside him crouched Santaya and Kristolia, their fur bristling, ears pinned back in unease. Neko, crouched low between them, fingers brushing the hilt of his trusty purple sword.
Below, the leathery-skinned people moved about their camp with strange ritualistic precision. Fires crackled. Tents shuddered in the dry wind. The chained women were gathered outside as the sun baked they're barely clothed skin, until one was dragged screaming into the largest tent, her voice raw with terror.
Then it came.
A blood-curdling scream, sharp and soul-deep, pierced the air, followed by cheering. Wild, and guttural. The strange figures raised their arms and howled as if in celebration, their eyes gleaming with something cruel.
No one moved. Not yet.
Gabija, silently crept forward, her eyes fixed on the tent ahead, Neko nodded. Gabija whispered, “Undgrolls, they are cannibals.” Neko looked at her shocked, and then silently heaved.
“Where do they come from?” He whispered to the clan leader, who shook her head. “What are you doing here?”
“Patrolling, we heard a rumor of strange creatures kidnapping women during the night, so we came to investigate, what are you doing here?”
“Heading to see King Althor in Buradoth.” There was another blood curdling scream that made the hairs on their arms and neck stand on end. “We’ve got to help them somehow…”
The Journey, Book 2; Chapter 6
Chapter 6, Weakness Gabija's fingers curled around the smooth, weathered wood of her bow, her eyes scanning the camp below with the precision of a hawk. The flickering firelight cast unsettling shadows over the twisted, grotesque forms of the Undgrolls, the savage, cannibalistic creatures that...
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