For Nettie- Thank you for listening to me ramble about imaginary people and places, and for not having me committed. You are my world.
ELSEWHERE
VOLUME ONE
IN THE SHADOW OF BONES AND THORNS
SMASHWORDS EDITION
PUBLISHED BY:
Cassidy Ward on Smashwords
Elsewhere: Volume One- In the Shadow of Bones and Thorns
Copyright © 2009 by Cassidy Ward
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners any products that may or may not be referenced in this work of fiction, which may or may not have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
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PROLOGUE
This small boy didn't seem to be any different than any other children. He had two arms with two hands that had five fingers each, likewise he had two legs with two feet that had five toes each. If you were to look at him you wouldn't see anything remarkable about him at all. He had slightly darkened skin, as though he had been outside and gotten a light tan. There was absolutely nothing physically questionable about him at all.
The nurses of the orphanage stood over the small boy’s bassinet. He was wrapped in a silken cloth, the cloth covered him tightly from his toes to his neck revealing only his tiny face. He had a constant smile, never crying or screaming like the other children. The nurses were all gathered around in a tight circle with their faces lowered toward him, his demeanor gave them no alarm so they would have had no reason at all to wonder about him other than the strange circumstances of his origin.
The nurses were all on a tight schedule, efficiency was key here at Candlewick Orphanage. The nurses took turns patrolling the grounds every thirty minutes, day and night. Every once in a while they would hear a light tapping at the door and when they went to answer it they would see a small bundle on the steps and a car speeding away. These instances were fairly common and they never really worried or startled the nurses. What did get their gears turning was when a child, silent and still, appears out of no where in the middle of the nursery.
Nurse Tiffanie was just finishing up her rounds, at exactly 3:00 a.m., everything was just as expected, surprises were rare here at Candlewick. Nurse Tiffanie counted all of the bassinets in the nursery, there were five rows in the room and five bassinets in each row, twenty-five in all. She counted the beds, making sure that the children were all there and accounted for.
"Twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six..."
She began walking out of the door to finish up her rounds and get back to her room for the remainder of her well deserved sleep, when-
She turned around with a curious gaze, cocking her head to one side while wondering.
She counted again.
"Twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six..." she thought.
She quickly depressed a button high on the wall. The button triggered an alarm, the alarm sounded in all of the administrative areas of the building, alerting all of the staff but not waking up any of the children. One of the bassinets looked curiously out of place and Nurse Tiffanie ran straight to it in order to investigate the situation.
Suddenly she became enthralled by the small boy smiling and still, in the center of the room. He was wide awake but never cried, none of the other children had even become aware of his arrival. He sat there silent and content as the rest of the staff gathered around his carriage. Their questions and murmurings filled the air in the nursery. Whispers fluttered back and forth among the nurses and caretakers of Candlewick Orphanage.
There had been no knock, no package at the orphanage steps, and no speeding car. The boy had simply appeared in the nursery among the other children without a peep and with no hint of where he had come from or how he had arrived.
The room seemed now to carry a light, something more which had not been there before, a glow. All of the faculty were entirely taken by this little boy, his unexplained entrance and his subtle glow. Nurse Tiffanie felt entirely connected to this boy, she had an unexplained feeling, like she had known him her entire life, even though she hadn't, like she was meant to meet him.
Nurse Tiffanie's duties, besides making the 3:00 a.m. rounds, were to interview potential parents and match them with the appropriate children. She knew without a doubt that this boy would be matched in a matter of days if not hours. She knew that the first set of parents that laid their eyes on him would fall instantly in love, like she had, and they would take him away to a loving home.
She had spent the past few years, ever since she started here at the Candlewick Orphanage, training herself not to get attached. She knew that the children always had the possibility of leaving at any time, and she knew that any child that she grew attached to would have a good chance of being adopted quickly. Also, it was her job to get the children out, away from her and into the arms of loving parents. Because of the training she had given herself over these years she had learned not to become emotionally involved, but tonight, with this boy, she just couldn't help it.
The very next morning a couple of parents came to the orphanage in search of a child. They had a story that was very common within these doors. One or both of them was unable to reproduce and they wanted nothing more than to have a child that they could call their own, a child that they could love and that would love them in return. Nurse Tiffanie gave them a tour of the orphanage, the tour that she had given over and over again throughout her years here. She always made it a point to take any potential parents through the sections housing the oldest children first. The rooms of the teenagers were dark, not because of any particular lighting problem but because these children had resigned themselves to a life stuck within these walls. They knew that the odds were grossly stacked against them, they began not to even look up when parents walked through, and it wasn't worth the energy to get hopeful.
Knowing this, Tiffanie took every potential parent through these halls first, hoping against hope that they might fall in love with one of the children that they saw here, but many more times then not, they walked right through without a word, waiting to reach the nursery. It felt always more like a walk through a museum or a zoo; they only wanted to look, never to take anyone home. Today was no different than any other day, and these parents were no different than the others who came through here, they wanted a baby. They wanted to be able to pretend that it was really their child both in body and soul, and Tiffanie didn't fault them for it.
As they rounded the corner to the nursery the excitement of these new prospective parents began to mount. Their faces turned from a look of curiosity to a look of anticipation and glee. Every day Tiffanie hoped that the parents would choose a child to love long before they reached the nursery, but today she hoped it ten times as much. Today she knew that the first parents that laid their eyes on the little glowing boy would take him home instantly and as she led them around the corner to the nursery she couldn't help but begin to get worried.
Her heart sank a little more with each hollow step. Each footstep was like a loudly ticking clock, counting away the seconds before her world was taken away from her. The glowing feeling inside the chest of the couple she was leading increased even more as they neared the glow in the center of the room. Tiffanie knew that she had to act fast and she quickly made up some lie about the small boy.
She uttered the first thing that came to mind, she explained to the couple that the small glowing boy in the center of the room, was afflicted by a horrible disease, destined to live a short life of pain and misery. She told them that it would be best if they chose a different child, a healthier child. Of course, all of this was untrue, she only wanted to be able to be near him for one more day. However, one day soon turned into many days, and many days turned into weeks and months. She started to think, as selfish as she knew it was, that if she could only get him out of the nursery, if he would just take his first steps, he would be moved into another wing of the orphanage and then he could stay here with her forever.
Everything was going exactly as she planned... until one day. She had gone through every affliction she could think of. She had told potential parents that this little glowing boy was afflicted with every deadly disease known and unknown to human kind. She had told other potential parents that he unfortunately lacked the mental capacity to ever live any sort of normal life, she told them absolutely anything she could think of that would get a couple of well meaning potential parents to turn away from him in hopes of a healthier child. On this particular day, Nurse Tiffanie had once again planned to come up with some new reason that her favorite little boy couldn't be taken by these parents, maybe he would have some sort of pox.
Everything was going according to plan, they walked through the halls of the older children and though this particular couple seemed more interested than most, they still were hoping for someone just a little bit younger. They never intended to pretend that they were the child's real parents, they just wanted the opportunity to form as many memories with their child as possible. They wanted the opportunity to give a child as much love as they possibly could.
Tiffanie was taking them around the corner to the nursery, the familiar sound of hollow steps was leading the way and she had her story all worked out. As they rounded the corner and the glow started to peak around the edge of the stone wall, she pulled in a deep breath, ready to start her script. She turned toward the young couple and saw something that she wasn't quite ready for. The glow that she had become so accustomed to when being near the little nameless boy, was matched entirely in the countenance of this young couple, they glowed for him just as he glowed for everyone. In that glow, she was lost. All of her lies, her stories, and her plotting to keep him here with her, were buried in the heavy glow that now filled the entire room. Once their eyes met his, they were sold.
No amount of lies, distortion... or pox could have kept the three of them apart, and having seen the obvious connection between this couple and her favorite little boy, she knew she couldn't deny him the family that he was clearly meant to have.
"You were saying?" the woman asked.
Despite her knowing that he would soon be leaving her, Tiffanie's small face could barely contain the smile upon it. She grinned from ear to ear, so tight was her grin that it looked as though her face might split from the tension. Never before had Tiffanie radiated happiness like this, she glowed so brightly that it rivaled even the glow of the small boy and his new parents.
"Nothing, there is absolutely nothing you should know about this boy; he would be perfect for you!"
The young couple shined with glee, they had hoped to find someone that they could love but never had they wished or imagined that they would find a love quite like this. They had only just met him but either one of them would gladly have stepped in front of a bus to save this boy, to let him glow one day longer.
After having filled out all of the necessary paper work and making all of the proper arrangements they were ready to go home. They were no longer just a couple, but a family. As they exited the large doors that guarded the Candlewick Orphanage, they turned around once again to thank Nurse Tiffanie for finding them the child they had hoped for and for completing their family. She smiled back at them from just inside the doorway, sad to see the boy go, but glad to see him in the arms of the only people she confidently thought could love him as much as he deserved.
His new parents took him home that night to a little house on the right side of a street much like the one you live on. They knew nothing of where he came from and even less of where he would go. They only knew that they loved him and that they would continue to love him until the day they left this world, and even more.
~~~~
Elsewhere, there is a man who couldn't be more miserable. He spends every moment of his existence loathing the Bender. This man feels as though it should have been him; that he should be sitting in the highest of seats looking down on the rest of creation. He has existed alongside the Bender for as long as either of them can remember, companions even in the lack of existence. When the worlds were ready to be created he thought himself poised for the job. Ready and willing, he stood for the call, only to find himself passed over, replaced by his companion.
This planted in him a deep seed of resentment.
The regret quickly turned to jealousy and over the years continued into anger and revenge. This man along with his companion had no name, no title to speak of, such things are unnecessary in the realm of nonexistence. They knew each-other only as their other, they never thought it necessary to give each-other a name, who would they tell it to?
They stayed together, pondering the possibilities of the worlds and planning for their bright future. The boy would have been happy to be second to the man, assistant in the creation and bending of the worlds. He thought himself content in this position and never would have thought any negative thought toward the man for that lot in existence.
Perhaps it would have been better had things happened that way, but unfortunately they did not.
The other, the boy, was chosen as Bender, by whom, we may never know. The boy, was excited and incredibly honored at being offered this highest of seats in the scheme of the worlds. He thought that his companion would have been happy to be his second, his assistant in the creation and bending of the worlds. It was with this in mind that he offered that position to the man.
The boy took his seat at the top of existence and started immediately in the bending of things, he bent first two chairs, one at the top of things and one only slightly lower than his own and at his right side, and gave that second chair to his other. Then he started on the first of the worlds, creating and bending at a tremendous rate. He bent quickly, excited to see the result of the thing, but did nothing without first consulting his other, whom he saw as an equal and a dear friend.
He, being a child, did not create things out of nothing as perhaps his other may have done but instead found it easier to bend what he wanted out of things that he found, things that were already a part of the nonexistence. Maybe the source of the malice was his others contempt for the boy's choice of creation, his method of bending the worlds. Perhaps it was simply the fact that his chair sat slightly lower than the very top of things, this again we may never know. What we do know is what happened some time later.
The boy spent every moment bending and creating, first bending a foundation of things which he later used to bend more. He bent the worlds in the same way a child might create anything they chose, starting from the ground up, starting simply and growing more and more complex with every added layer. He bent and created with such fervor, he loved his creation and wanted to see it succeed but his initial fervor paled in comparison to the ferocity at which he bent after having created his first creature.
The boy created a child.
He thought that for his first creature he would start the same way he had with his worlds, small and simple. Over the years, the man, had become cold and distant. He still sat at the second seat but leaned as far outward as he could and the bender had become lonely. He thought that when creating his first creature he would take the opportunity to create for himself, a new other. A child, someone that he could confide in and consult with. He created for himself a girl, and immediately there after he bent for her a chair. The chair sat at the same level as the man’s, slightly lower than the top and immediately at his left side.
This action served only to increase the anger and regret in the heart of the man. He sat at the right of the bender and plotted to some day get his revenge on the boy and his new other. As time sped by and the boy continued to bend at such a rapid pace, he never noticed the anger in the eyes of the man. He occupied himself only with his work and his new other, the girl who sat at his left.
He continued to bend in the same way he always had, building upon the foundations of his earlier work. The only difference was now he consulted with the girl instead of with the man. The man sat in his chair at the right, and gazed upon the work of the bender, he looked down at the layers of creation and saw in them, the eyes of the children. He watched and waited as several worlds were created, vowing to get his revenge, not only on the bender and his other but also on everything that they bent together.
Some time later, after many ages had passed, when the man could no longer stand his unfavored position in the scheme of things, he asked the bender for one favor. He asked that the boy create a new world, just one, without the consultation of his other. He asked that the boy bend a world under the guidance of the man, like they had done together in the beginning.
The boy, seeing sadness in the eyes of his oldest companion naively agreed to the bending of this world. He began immediately and with the same fervor he had in the making of all of his previous worlds.
As the three of them had spanned the ages of creation the man's heart had become dark and empty, because of this, the world he commissioned was equally dark and equally empty.
The boy, although unhappy about the place he was creating, bent it anyway in hopes that it would fill the void in the mans heart, and spark happiness in the eyes of his oldest friend.
After a short time the boy was finished with this new world, and for a time it sat at the top of things. The man was happy, but the happiness was not one that any of us may know, it was dark and wicked, just as the man. The man sat back in his chair just below the top of things, he sat straight and didn't lean for the first time in quite a while. He looked down on the world that he and the bender had created together and smiled a wicked smile.
He called the world the Everdark.
The bender also took some time, as he did with all of his creations to look upon his finished work. However, when he did this, he didn't see this new world the same way as the man.
To look upon this world made him feel a sense of fear and regret and he wanted quickly to cover it up with something better. The boy told the man that he had built the world for him, to make him happy but that it wasn't in his favor and he would quickly be moving on to his next work. This angered the man and he decided to leave his seat at the second level just below the top of things, to live and reign in the world that he had built.
He stepped down, leaving the bender with his other and embraced the world he had made. He left all love, compassion, and happiness there on the seat to the right of the bender and embraced the darkness, the emptiness and the wickedness of his favored world. He became entirely, the Everdark.
The bender, quick to cover up the darkness of these recent events went again to his favorite other and asked her once again to help him in the bending of his newest and greatest work. He looked at her with such excitement at the possibilities but in her eyes he found only disappointment. She could see the mistake he had made, she could see the horror that was to come, and the price that would be paid for his sin.
She said that she would help him in the building of his next world but that it would be her last and that when they were done she was leaving him. She wanted no longer to sit beside him only to wait for the end to come.
The Bender knew that his next world would be his greatest and thought that when it was done, his other would see its greatness and decide to stay. They built together the eighth world and it was a marvel to behold, filled with creatures that knew only good. They knew they were his favored creatures and the only ones who would know of his existence. They would live to serve the Bender and all of his creation, this world was completely opposite of the Everdark, an atonement in the eyes of the boy.
When it was finished he looked upon his other, fully expecting her forgiveness and her continued companionship at his side. She however, was true to her word and left him as she said she would.
The boy still cared for her, so he made her a safe place in the second world, far from the darkness of the Everdark, in hopes that someday she would be there for him when he needed her.
Filled with remorse and loneliness and without the help of his other, he continued to bend, but the next world he created was full of flaws and imperfections. He tried his best to fix the mistakes he had made but found himself unable to correct them. Sadness embraced the Bender and no matter how he tried he was unable to bend anything that compared to his earlier worlds. He spent more time in the ninth world than in any other, tying up loose ends and cleaning up the mess he had made, the weight of this world was heavy upon the boy, and he found himself drained as he continued his work alone. What he didn't know was that the man had been watching him from his seat at the top of the Everdark, waiting for his chance to reclaim his seat at the top of things. He waited until the boy had been drained almost entirely before his strike.
He trapped the boy in his human body here in the ninth world, leaving the bender full of flaws and imperfections, unable to stop the man from taking the highest seat and undoing all that the bender had created.
Fortunately, his servants in the eighth world, with their knowledge of the boy and his others, had seen what had happened, and they couldn't stand idly by while the Everdark took over the bender and all of his creations.
CHAPTER ONE:
DARK PLACES
The landscape is blackened in a flash as the nevercracks fly upward like backwards lightning in a haste to leave this place, causing spires of dust to fly toward the sky running after them, as if pleading not to be left behind. It's been getting darker and darker here for a while now as the light flees like rats from a sinking ship. Perhaps that's why they call it Everdark, or perhaps it's him. There aren't any people anywhere to be found. There used to be people here, but they never stayed very long. They leave with the light to better places. There is one small house here in the midst of the place and it acts like a magnet repelling everything else in existence away from it. Even the house itself is empty, void of detail, plain and dark.
Other than the plain house, dark and empty, there is nothing here. You wouldn't know that the place even existed or held any life, if it wasn't for the whispers. There were always whispers, dark and sinister. You can tell that they were dark, just like this place and just like those who whispered them.
Through the whispers a clear and discernable voice breaks. It sounds with a boom, heavy and firm. The voice is dark and hollow, full of cracks and entirely wicked. The voice leads to a man, sitting in the center of the main room, just inside the house in the center of this dark and eerie landscape. The man is speaking to twelve dark figures, these figures are thin and tall. They are all uniform in appearance. They are of a dark gray color and seem to be slightly grainy in texture, the figures surround the man in the center of the dark and dreary room but he clearly commands them. The figures all cower as he speaks and cower even more when they reply.
"Sir, it seems as though they have failed."
The commanding voice returns into the conversation, shaking the walls as it does and sending the twelve figures cowering further.
'What do you mean they failed?!'
The twelve cowering figures fell back into the corners of the darkened room.
The room may contain color, but the man in the center has repelled all light so far from him that it couldn't be seen even if it was there. A flame flickered in the corner of the room and its light escapes quickly up the chimney and away. The black flames appear subdued and barely alive under the heavy darkness and cold.
"It seems the boy was too strong, they never returned."
The voice of the twelve figures was clearly not a voice of the living and they equally were something unnatural. They seemed to be only barely alive, just like everything else in this house. They and their communal voice seemed dulled, just as the flames, barely peeking through the darkness and the cold of the house and the man. The man in the center was clearly commanding the situation and waited a while before speaking again; he made sure that his statements were calculated and precise.
"I need that memory! I need his dreams!"
The hiss once again preceded the voice of the twelve strange creatures, their speech sounded like a strained whisper, like the speech of a person who has lost their voice but is struggling to scream.
"We know sir, what do you wish?"
The man in the center of the room was clearly not a pleasant person and every time he spoke this was more and more apparent. However, this time in particular, he went out of his way to make sure that the twelve unfortunate creatures knew exactly how angry he was.
"I do not wish, we do not deal in wishes here!"
The hiss returned from the twelve cowering figures and this time it was even more strained, struggling to reach the surface through the darkness and the cold, and now fear that they all felt at the feet of this man.
"sss…. Of course sir, what is it that you want?"
"I want his memories, I want his dreams… I WANT THAT BOY!!"
The man in the center of the room said this with such anger that the ground and walls shook. He pounded his fists on the arms of his chair and they cracked against the strain. The man clearly possessed an unnatural amount of power, it was this power that weighed down everything here, and it was this power that caused the twelve figures to cower in fear as they did.
"What of the giant?" asked the man in the center.
"sss… we've not found him yet…" They replied with hesitation.
"Did you look where I told you? You worthless piles of dirt!"
The twelve of them all shrunk back in fear once again as the man spoke, by now they had all reached the limits of the room and found themselves pressed against the houses dark walls. If they cowered any further they would become a part of the house and then they too would shake at the pounding of his fists.
"We looked sir; there is nothing there, nothing but the bramble and the wall."
The man in the center of the room was clearly angered at this news, but didn't yell and didn't pound his powerful fists, instead he sat and pondered what he might do next. This news was a blow to his carefully calculated plans, but he wouldn't be discouraged.
"I'm tired of your failure." He said.
"Send the best; I want his memories this time."
A smile broke across his face as he said this, and he started to laugh to himself. The twelve cloaked figures that surrounded him again shrunk back in fear, they spoke.
"But sir… we're your best."
"Yes, I know that, now go!"
At a wave of his hand they obeyed. The twelve of them all fell to the floor as though they were made of sand and they had fallen through an hourglass. Then their individual piles of dust swirled up in a spiral, not like dust caught in the wind but as if the dust had a mind of its own, and carried themselves out the door and away.
As the twelve figures fell and carried themselves away they revealed the powerful and dark man in the center of the room. He looked nothing like the man he had once been. He had traded his body, his mind, and his soul for continued power over this place and its inhabitants. He had lost all recognizable features and was left now with a blank slate where his face once had been. Only the remnants of eyes a nose and a mouth remained. Fossils of what once was.
A tiny crack remained where his mouth may have once been, he used it only occasionally but he never allowed it to completely fall away. It was uneven and dry, like a crack in the dried dirt of the desert. The skin surrounding it was reddened and sore, as it cracked anew every time he used it to speak.
He was wearing a large black cloak that looked as though it wasn't made of fabric at all but instead was made of shadow. This shadow cloak revealed little of the twisted face and when it fell to the floor it simply blended in with the other shadows around them.
The man was sitting in a chair, very happy with the events that had just unfolded. He clasped his right hand tightly with his left, squeezing harder and harder waiting for his skin to crack. The jagged nails scraped deeply into the flesh of his skeletal hand, the wound was deep and the man waited for the red with a twisted smile.
No blood.
~~~~
A boy sleeps in a small bedroom, in a modest house, on the right side of a street much like the one you live on. He's sleeping soundly, sleeping like there is no one else around, but he's wrong. Just outside his window there is a man standing next to a woman.
The woman has short perky hair that stands out in every direction as though it's trying to escape her head, when the truth is that every strand was glad to be hers. She has a beautiful and trusting face, and you can tell from it that she has seen many things. A welcoming smile never seems to leave her, even thought it may be slightly covered with the hints of other emotions.
A shawl covers her shoulders and under that is a robe the deepest purple the eyes can see.
As for the man, he has long dark hair that despite its length is somehow tamed and well kept, falling about midway down his back. Beneath the hair is a strange set of clothes, they contain many colors and are made of an unfamiliar material, unknown to this world. They seem to move and sway according to his will. The clothes are all one piece without any cuts or seams. It is as though the fabric was born this way, the strange clothing cover the whole of the mans body from his shoulders to his feet and continue on from there, covering the ground around his feet.
"Why did we come from the sky?" asked the man to his companion.
"It's the emptiness that frightens him. It is what he fears the most."
The woman paused as though collecting her thoughts.
"The portico between here and there, between ours and his, is always through the place they fear the most and he fears the sky."
She pauses again but this time looking very intently at the ground behind her. Something happened then, something she never would have wished for.
"The shadows turn, reflecting the winds of our world, the sintegrators come."
The midnight air was thick with humidity and anticipation.
"We can not stay much longer,' said the man gloomily, 'we've protected him thus far but neither of us can stand against sintegrators."
The smile on the woman's face quickly leaves her and as the man turns to face her he can see a single tear fall down her cheek.
"All is lost,' she says. 'There isn't any more time."
The man turns and places his hand upon her cheek to wipe the tear, his calloused thumb gently removing the droplet from her face.
"Do not fear, even time can bend for his kind. Fant will hold the key until he's ready. Come, let's go."
They turned toward one another and clasped their hands together, interlocking their fingers together tightly. The crying woman turned to face the window.
"Goodbye young Bender. I hope to see you soon, don't be afraid."
She spoke bravely, the boy slept soundly without any knowledge of their presence. The woman knew what was about to come and wanted just to leave the boy with a little encouragement.
Having said her goodbye's she turned toward the man, and as she did, she took a deep breath. She breathed so deep that the trees started to bend toward them, creaking and cracking with every inch. Their strange robe like clothing twisted together binding them and with her exhale, they were gone.
~~~~
Elsewhere……
A rage has been growing here for a long, long time. An evil man lays motionless on the ground staring blankly and deeply into the eyes of thousands. They never speak, not a single word.
Over many years this man has done nothing but work towards one goal, and with his progress towards his one goal, so too has his rage progressed into something no ordinary man could hold, but then again he isn't really an ordinary man.
He holds no allegiance to either side, only to his own foul agenda. This man with the rage isn't really much of a man, not anymore, he is now nothing more than a hollow shell. He started as a man, as did all who accompany him but the years spent here in the ever growing ire had changed them.
Some of them were still more human than others. This place where they lay had a way of changing people slowly and methodically over time. It made its changes very slowly and at a consistent rate, so that just like the rings of a tree, the amount of time a person spent here could be measured exactly by the amount of change they had undergone.
Because of this some of the people here looked almost human while others were much more horrific. Those who looked almost human may have only been there a few centuries, not yet changed entirely by their new environment, but the bramble held people for much longer than that.
Those who had been there longer had in the same way suffered much more significant alterations. The valley around them was filled with a strange magic, not dark, but very strange. It had a tendency to change everything it touched if given enough time, and time was one thing they had plenty of.
Over decades and centuries the magic slowly warped them. Their faces and personalities melted away and were replaced with something sinister and empty
Over time as hope slowly slipped away, every one of them signed on to his dark revenge. Their changes and captivity however were pale in comparison to his. He no longer appeared at all the same; there was no trace of the man he used to be. His body has contorted and changed and curled in upon itself for so long it is no longer recognizable as anything that has ever been recognized before.
His body had changed so much that even the flesh of his hands had melted away so that all that was left were the bones of his fingers, and even they had slowly changed into horrible claws that were thousands of years long.
It has been said that it is in the eyes that you can see a person’s true self, that you can see them for who they really are. Even his eyes were different now hollow and empty with no trace of compassion or love, even fear or envy, none of the emotions that one would expect of a person. Hate is the only thing this man knows now, hate is all that he can see, and hate is all that he can give.
He has waited through the creation and growth of the worlds, and he will continue to wait knowing that soon his time will come. Over time he has abandoned all hope, all ambition, all motivations and characteristics that he once may have had. He even abandoned his name for another, one that would instill fear into the hearts of those who heard it.
He is known only as the Charos.
CHAPTER TWO:
MEMORIES OF TIMES PAST
"Steasyn, come inside please. It's time for supper."
Mrs. Baker was a stunning woman with all of the features associated with beauty. She stood in the doorway of her home and called out to her son, a smile on her face brought on only by the sight of her boy.
She had been his mother for Eight years now and tonight was a special night for everyone in the house. As Steasyn entered the dining room he noticed that supper tonight was quite different. On the table sat a turkey with all the trimmings, this in it self was not strange at all, the strange thing was the large and very delicious looking cake sitting next to it. The cake had been pierced Eight times, and each hole contained a brightly burning candle.
Young Steasyn was confused; he looked up toward his mother and spoke innocently as children do.
"But Mom… it isn't my birthday?" he said quizzically.
His mother smiled at him and pulled out a chair at the side of the table. His father Mr. Baker sat at the other end of their square table reading his favorite novel. The table was covered with a hand made lace table cloth, a family heirloom, handed down for generations. The table itself was modest enough, and sat in the center of an equally modest dining area. The floors were of white linoleum and probably should have been replaced years ago but like their kitchen and their table, the Baker's were of modest taste and modest means. They didn't squander funds where they weren't needed and the floor still held their feet well enough.
Mr. Baker laid the book down on the table, placing a ribbon inside to hold his place, and clasped his hands together smiling. He raised his eyes slowly until they were just peering over the top of his thinly framed glasses, like the sun as it just slightly peeks over the eastern horizon every morning.
"Your father and I would like to talk to you about something very important Steasyn, and we want you to understand that we love you very much!"
Steasyn sat, still very confused but intrigued, as a boy of Nine years old assuredly would be at the sight of a very large cake on an otherwise ordinary day.
His father spoke:
"Today is a very important day for your mother and me son, you see this is the anniversary of the day that you came to us. The day our family was complete."
Steasyn still seemed very confused he knew very well that his birthday was still three months and twenty one days away; he had been counting down since his last. He looked at his father, then his mother with wondering eyes.
His eyes met his mothers and hers dropped to the table, she focused on the chocolate cake that served as a center piece for this gathering.
'Steasyn.' She paused. 'You are growing old and soon your innocence will fade, you will start to see things differently, you might notice certain things about our family that are…. different from the other children you know.'
Mrs. Baker stopped to take a deep breath and Mr. Baker, being a compassionate man, stepped in to relieve her.
'Son, you may have noticed that your mother and I look different from you, and some of the other people you have met. It doesn't mean anything really, just, some people are different.'
What Mr. and Mrs. Baker were trying to allude to, was the fact that young Steasyn was not in fact their child of birth. He had been adopted when he was less than a year old. He was a small boy, with skin only slightly darker than the pale moon, like a piece of lightly toasted bread, only eight years eight months and ten days old. His parents however had dark mocha skin and knew, as they had said that soon his innocence would fade and he would realize these things.
Steasyn, as they had hoped, was not concerned at all by the news. He knew that his mother and father loved him very much, even if they hadn't given birth to him, he didn't care much for the details concerning how he entered this world. He was of the mind that the years of love they had given him since then, more than overshadowed a single moment in time. Moreover he was taken aback by the wonderful present they had given him for his un-birthday.
After a wonderful dinner shared by a loving family, Steasyn sat in his room very happy, ecstatic in fact, for in the corner was a very beautiful silver cage and inside the cage was the prettiest little bird he had ever seen, and for some reason as he sat and watched him he imagined that his new friend had an eccentric sense of humor.
The boy spent the rest of the night sitting in his room talking to his new best friend……. his only friend, and his parents spent the night peeking through the crack in his door and staring at their best and only friend.
As the sunlight started to fade and the bird and the boy started to tire, Mr. And Mrs. Baker entered the room to tuck in their son, but not before he tucked in his friend.
Steasyn drifted off and had wonderful dreams.
The last good dreams he would ever have.
~~~~
Many years have passed since a memory was stolen, tides have changed and changed back. The waves of time have rolled and broke on the shore of a man's life and he has been changed, eroded by the constant waves, no longer the boy he once was and not the man he could have been.
You ask what difference one life can make, what real weight can one person hold.
I say much.
In a battle so tightly fought on both sides as this, one man, one life can make all the difference. The balance had been broken that night and this world had been forever changed.
The shadows continue to creep out like bacteria in a Petri dish, threatening all that live here.
There are still some who believe, and are waiting for the day he comes, the day the boy savior will change everything again.
CHAPTER THREE:
A SERIES OF STRANGE OCCURENCES
The grass was still covered with dew and every blade was turned toward a boy, every blade looking at him as if to greet him. Even the grass was happy today, so happy that if grass could smile those blades would have had the biggest smiles this world has ever seen.
Though he didn't know it, this boy was about to change their whole world!
He woke among the blades and as he rose the light hit the ground just right and for one moment he thought he could see them smile. Wiping the dew from his face the boy tried to take in his surroundings. He began to look around wondering where he was and how he got there. This information would soon come but not just yet.
The things he saw all around him were not all too strange save one, as he turned he was standing not ten feet from a wall.
The wall was made entirely of growth and it stretched as far as his eyes could see to the right and just as far to the left and straight up to the clouds. One solid wall with no openings, not one hole or gap except a door sized perfectly for this small boy.
~~~~
Somewhere far away but somehow still connected was an old taxi cab with chipped yellow paint and a rusted frame. When it slowed to a stop the sound of the brakes grinding and screeching could be heard from inside the surrounding buildings.
All in all, it was a very unremarkable vehicle. This car looked the same as any other but it was very different in the fact that it carried a man who was much more important than any one could know.
In the back of the cab the man was fast asleep and dreaming soundly of wonderful dreams. These dreams would come to be important, and he would need them to hold on to. The man awoke with a smile on his face, but the smile soon faded. What he awoke to was not a very pleasant sight.
He looked out of the window on the aging building and traced the wall down to a sign.
'THE AUTUMN INSTITUTE 1897'
Lost in thought, the man just stared at the building and wondered what he was doing there. His train of thought was broken by speech from the front seat.
"This is it."
A man who has not shaved in entirely too long and had a cough that suggested years of smoking was looking at him through the rear view mirror. James gave him a nod and looked around the car to see if he had anything. All he saw was a floor covered in cigarette butts, which confirmed the birth place of the cough.
He opened the door and stepped out onto a small piece of snow covered ground that separated the street from the sidewalk and lead to a small walkway heading up to the entrance. James put his hands in his pockets and found a crinkled up photograph. He pulls it out and turns it over to the back; it reads 'me and mom 1970'. Smiling, he returns the picture to his pocket as he makes his way along the narrowly winding sidewalk on his way to the front of the building. He passes the concrete sign that bears the name of this place, in front of him are large wooden doors with oversized metal door knockers.
A man in a long white physicians coat is standing casually at the door pulling the last remaining fumes from what is left of his cigarette, he waves James in nonchalantly.
'Welcome to the Autumn Institute' he says as he opens the door for his guest. With a half-hearted smile he says,
"Agnes will take you from here."
The man from the cab turns to face a nice looking nurse.
"You must be Agnes." he says.
"You must be Mr. Dementiel." she replied.
"Just call me James."
"Alright James, I will be giving you the tour of our facility."
As she turned to walk James started to follow her but she stopped when he asked what she already knew he must undoubtedly be thinking,
"What am I doing here Agnes?" the man asked.
Anges' nose curled up a bit at James' question.
"Now we'll get to that soon enough my boy, for now lets just take a nice little walk, what do you say?"
Although James was frustrated at why he was suddenly being ushered into a place that says "institute" on the door, Agnes' smile and friendly nature was just enough to keep him calm.
So he continued to follow behind her.
"I'll play along for now." He muttered.
CHAPTER FOUR:
NEW ACQUANTENCES
The boy walked through the opening that was strangely just the right size for him. Nothing but the sounds of forest life could be heard just inside the borders of the wall. He looked around in every direction to try and find anything that could give him a clue to where he should go next.
When nothing presented itself he just continued to walk.
Part of him didn't want to leave the security of the field he awoke from, but he knew there was nothing there, somehow he knew he had to move on. Still, the uncertainty of this new place overtook him just enough to make him turn back toward the gap in the wall… As he hesitated, moving neither forward nor backward, the decision was suddenly made for him. The gap in the wall, the door from which he entered, closed. He had no way to go but forward.
Despite the strange situation the boy had found himself in, he was unusually calm, much more tranquil than someone in his position should be, but something about this place forced calm upon him.
“Wha…'”was all he could say.
He could have said any number of things, but 'Wha-' was really the perfect thing. It said in perfect articulation exactly what he was feeling, as he took in what was all around him.
Nothing.
There was nothing but the walls, the walls on both sides of him going on indefinitely forward. Behind him, a newly forged dead end, and straight on to the tops of the sky.
The boy started to walk, looking for some kind of break, anything to show him what to do or where to go but there were no clues.
Nothing but the vines that he sometimes swore he could see crawling as if they were alive. 'What was that?' The boy sputtered. He swore he saw something, a pair of eyes hiding in the walls behind the vines, branches, and the leaves….watching him.
The boy was momentarily frightened but the magic of this new place forced the unnatural calm upon him again and all fear was lost. He stood for a moment to ask himself what he should do now, but the answer was actually very clear.
"I guess all there really is to do is go on."
~~~~
"Now Mister Dementiel, this is the main corridor, every part of autumn connects to this hallway at some point." Agnes said.
She said these things with an air of rehearsal, like she had said them many times before as she probably had. They walked down the center of the main hallway. James looked mostly down at his feet and the black and white checkered pattern on the tile floor. The hypnotic effect of the pattern passing under his feet was broken only when Agnes directed his attention to the left and the first room along their journey.
"This is the game room."
"But no one ever plays the games." She said with a tinge of disappointment and a pinch of disdain.
James looked around the room at all the entertainment available here; he chuckled when he heard Agnes curse the television under her breath.
"You know I like games." he said with a smile.
Agnes turned around and looked as though she had seen a ghost.
"Well you're the only one, well the only one except Tommy here."
James looked to his left and saw a small table that was strangely close to the ground. A feeble looking man, whose eyes looked too young to belong to that his body, was sitting at the table with a checkerboard in front of him but no one on the other end. He was sitting in a chair, it was the small plastic kind you might see at a public playground, and it looked like it might break under his weight at any moment.
He seemed strangely comfortable on it despite how awkward it looked.
"Well maybe you and Tom can be friends, Tom likes games, well he likes checkers." Agnes said.
"Don't you Tom?"
She said in the way you would talk to a four year old, or a dog.
"Check… checkers… I love checkers! Tom always wins, I'm Tom, and I win!!" Tom said with more excitement than a four year old, or a dog.
"That's right Tom, you win.' she said, obviously trying to calm him down.
"I WIN I WIN I WIN I WIN…" he started in again loudly but quickly trailed off and was lost again into whatever world he spent most of his time.
For one quick moment his eyes had a spark, but it was quickly lost like a shooting star screaming across the sky for an instant before it burns up in the atmosphere.
"What's wrong with him?"
James inquired.
"Ha, too many things for me to remember, you can take a look at his chart if you've got an hour or two to kill."
She said laughingly.
James looked confused and asked
"So if no one else but Tom plays games in here, who does Tom play checkers with?"
At this a smile broke across Agnes' face as she was clearly hoping that James would ask this question.
"Tom only plays with Tom… but he always wins!"
She said in a partial smile that was really more of a masked frown.
"What a bunch of crazies!"
James said, backing slowly away from Tom as if he was a dangerous animal ready to attack. He turned to the other side of the room and saw a long row of old couches that reminded him of his grandmother's house.
The seven or eight people there were lost entirely in the old black and white sit-coms on the television. The shows never seemed to lose the attention of the audience, despite the fact that they only came in clearly very occasionally.
"Zombie boxes,"
Agnes said angrily, and now James understood why she hated them so much.
"So what exactly am I doing here again?" James asked hoping that maybe at this point, he might be able to get some answers out of her. Agnes did not falter, she only looked at him with the same love in her eyes that she had at every moment and replied,
"Hmmm, later love, lets move on." James followed behind Agnes rather than walking next to her, he decided he might as well act the part as he knew he was undoubtedly being led to somewhere he didn't want to be, like a prisoner to the gallows.
Agnes had turned back past the game tables, board games, toys, and finally past Tom playing checkers with a friend that only he knew, then passed through the door before James realized and started to follow.
This was the first time that James realized he had no power, no authority, and no say over his fate here.
"This way James." She said as if he was going to wonder off somewhere. They turned left at the door to continue on their way, as they walked, they passed a series of picture frames or rather frames that should be holding pictures but eerily stood empty on the walls.
"Do you like them?" She asked still smiling.
"Do I like what?" James said in an irritated way. He thought to himself that it was awfully strange to hang picture frames that held no pictures.