The ongoing collection Volume XVI

 

By J. R. Wagner

TheNeverChronicles.com

       

                               J. R. Wagner TheNeverChronicles.com

The nineth day of September The year is unknown I slowly opened my eyes for fear I would see the blue painted walls of my childhood bedroom once again. I was relieved when the roughly hewn timbers of the cabin ceiling came into focus. I slowly sat and slid my feet over the side of the bed, looking around the room. On the inside, it appeared much larger than the outside suggested. The floors were neither dirt nor wood planks but marble. In fact, I struggled to find a single seam suggesting it consisted of one very large piece of marble. The room was bright despite having only two small windows both of which revealed the dreary weather outside. On the far wall was the fireplace -large enough to walk inside and constructed of polished river rock stacked floor to ceiling. Inside a fire burned over which the lug pole suspended an iron pot that was beginning to simmer. The room smelled not of cooking food but of freshly cut flowers. Opposite my cot was a very large, ornate trunk. Carved on the sides was an inscription in a language with which I was unfamiliar. The knob, still centered in the round green door, creaked as it turned, drawing my attention away from the trunk. I stiffened although I knew it could only be one person…and indeed it was. Akil Karanis stooped as he made his way through the circular doorway. He smiled as he entered, his pipe hanging from his mouth and a bunch of cut flowers in his hand. When he saw that I was awake, he mumbled something and quickly set the flowers on a shelf by the door. I see that you have finally risen, he said. Never have I known someone to sleep for such a duration. How long have I been aslumber? I asked. Nearly ten days, he replied. Impossible, I thought reaching for my chin to scratch an itch. Yet when I contacted it, I knew he told the truth simply from the growth. Akil smiled and sat in the wooden rocking chair by the fire. So, he said, hovering his hand over the bowl of his pipe and muttering something, which brought its contents aflame, I assume you’re well rested then. I nodded. Very good, he said. Your journey was a long one. Perhaps the longest of any I’ve guided to this place. I stood and stretched allowing the blood to flow to my stiff muscles. Akil extended his hand, said something that sounded like ‘freskatu’ and turned his palm upward. A pink ball of light rose from his palm and hovered there for a moment before he coaxed it in my direction. Too stunned to swat the strange orb of light away, I watched as it impacted my chest. Immediately, I felt a sense of clarity. The stiffness in my body seemed to drain out through my skin and my

       

                               J. R. Wagner TheNeverChronicles.com

muscles felt limber and strong. I looked at Akil with a dumbfounded expression, I’m sure. After all you’ve seen, I find it intriguing that you still find my abilities novel, he said. I’m afraid it may take some time for my sense of wonder to wane, I said. He turned and stirred the ladle inside the iron pot. Your journey, you’ll be happy to know, is at its midway point. I’d express some form of relief if I were aware of the end point, I said. Akil turned and gave me a most curious expression. Fascinating, he said. He stood, walked to me and gently put his hand on my forehead. Of that day, I remember no more.