"Better?", David closed the book and poked at the fire. A red spark rose into the air.
"I'm fine, just a bit of worry and a bit of bad", Bernard cleared his throat, "But, I've got a very, much, better story than that."
"Tell us. I've never seen one rivaling 'Mercurus' before."
"Then, the Story of Circacial."
"Many years ago, a king and his people traveled through Wailen. Their feet dragged along the roads, and they carved pathways. All of them searched for their lost kingdom. A world they had once owned, but all taken away by a Magi. Bricks had vanished and the king had cried. Then his subjects set off to find their kingdom with carts and oxen.
The king wore his crown crooked in a slant against his head. It hung sideways as his chariot tumbled across the road. His eyes saw forest and sun for miles. No brick, no cities, nothing... The traveling village rode and the oxen chewed their cud. They crested a hill and built a village of tents. Lamps flared and children played, but all enjoyed the stars. The great, great stars. Glittering, twinkling, sparkling stars. They floated above like a dandelion's featherlike hairs with blue and white tufts stretching from each star.
The king caught sight of the stars while he prayed to the Prophet. But his eyes glimpsed for a second until he closed his eyes and imagined. His mind saw visions of his lost kingdom, with empty houses and empty villages, with neglected toys and lost mirrors, with dust over everything. His eyes saw vines creeping and breaking down walls. When he opened them again, they were gone and the pit inside his heart grew a bit more.
For him, tomorrow brought progress, but today brought nothing. Tomorrow, another king to ask for help from, but today, his feet had walked, and he had dragged his heart behind in chains.
So, he stood up and lay on his kingly bed and wondered about his kingdom.
The morning arrived, and the king's eyes opened themselves. He held his staff in one hand, and his head poked out from the tent flaps. The sun hid itself among the clouds, and he walked to the oxen. His legs climbed upon it. The king set off and followed the path of the others.
The afternoon came with a beating sun, and they arrived at Aligore's kingdom. Soldiers and a telluride greeted them, and Aligore walked to him. Both exchanged greetings and walked to Aligore's clay abode. Underneath the reed roof tiles, they talked and agreed. Aligore nodded and the king mumbled but laughed.
Then, in one final nod, Aligore decreed 10,000 soldiers and able-bodied men to find the king's kingdom over Wailen.
The telluride waved them a goodbye, and soldiers marched away. Bronze hacked through weed and bush. Cities sprung from their footsteps, and a city of tents lay at night. On and on, the soldiers marched, but they met no village, no brick, no lost kingdom, nothing...
After a month, the king nodded his head and waved a sad goodbye. Then, with his subjects, he set off. Their footsteps left trails behind him, and he raised his staff to the place of Magi and Himare. Thundery clouds billowed, and wind swept through them. Trees bent and the grass swayed with the wind. He and his subjects hid in the forest for refuge. Their eyes hid themselves away from the wind, and they tried to rub together fires. But, the wind put each one out and only smoke remained.
The king raised his head, and tried to discern the Prophet's face from the clouds. But his eyes saw clouds and none else. He tried again, and wondered if the Prophet watched over them in the clouds. He squinted, and discerned elephants, grapes, houses, a village...But his eyes fell through those mists, and saw nothing.
When night arrived with stars, the king prayed to the Prophet, but he heard no answers. He yelled for the Prophet, screamed the Prophet's name over and over again. It echoed in the air, but nothing came back to him. No replies, only the soft winds pushing the tent flaps open. The king went to sleep underneath a tent, and hid himself from the light.
The sun rose overhead and bloomed light like a yellow flower. The king set his staff upon the ground, climbed the oxen, and set off to the Magi. They trudged through mud, and traveled through yellow grass. The king had his staff against the light and pointed it to the sun. He beckoned them forward, and his subjects continued. When the clouds covered the sky, they saw red, blue, and gold fly above in sparks. The smell of sulfur and charcoal wafted in the wind.
When the afternoon arrived, they stood above a village of Magi. Torches went with the wind, capes dragged, beards pulled. People looked up, and the telluride came down. It greeted them, and the king went down to the village. His eyes looked around, and he spotted a Magi. Tall and old with no cane, who greeted him with a nod.
They talked, and the Magi agreed to find their kingdom. The king sat on a bench and watched the Magi boil and simmer Galtrand and Gotund. With a sphere of Quand, the Magi looked into and saw nothing, but grass and weeds. The Magi continued throughout the day while the king rested his kingly figure against the bench.
When the Magi could work no more, he fell asleep from exhaustion, and went away from the king.
In the morning, the Magi told him that his kingdom lay lost to time. The king went away and gathered four more Magi, who he told the same thing. Each time, he sat and heard the same, that his kingdom lay long lost. With a heavy farewell and a burden still upon his chest, he set off..
The king bid the telluride and it's village a farewell, and his subjects went along. Their oxen traveled and pounded through marsh and mud. The king looked back with a frown, and stared at the sky for the Prophet's face. He discerned blue clouds and white sky. But he paused after the harsh sun glared down at him. Then the king blinked and looked away.
Aligore greeted them, but the king never looked. His eyes stared down, and he rested against the grey walls. He rested and lay, and ate and drink. He refused to dine, and sat against that bench for hours, then days, then a week. The king's eyes grew grey with circles clinging around his eyes. The crown lay and slumped on the bench.
After a week, Aligore ran down to the king's bench. His eyes grew wide, and he talked about Pnoaphales. The only mountain where the soldiers hadn't gone. Aligore tripped and stumbled. Then, he yelled at the soldiers to gather 8 explorers to find a kingdom on Pnoaphales.
The king stood up from the bench, and walked to watch the explorers. Messages passed while the king looked up for any signs of the Prophet. The explorers braved the magic and passed the Abyss. They reached midway until their legs pumped no longer and their energy fizzed out. They climbed down, and reached Aligore's kingdom.
They'd seen nothing... Nothing! They'd shouted those words again and again. Aligore tried to set the king's crown back upon his head, but the king refused and sat in silence...
After the king heard the news, he gazed away from the sight and slept. He slept and slept those painful memories away. His mind emptied of thoughts until he dreamed no more. His breaths grew soft and labored. With wake, his thoughts suffocated him until he longed for sleep once more. Days passed, and he slept through each. Time passed quickly. For him, time had no meaning, there was no time...
Then, while he lay in bed one day, he heard a sound.
Light seeped into the room from a window, and he closed it with swift hands. He lay asleep, still and pale. The dark covered his eyes with a shroud, and he slept in silence... There was nothing...
Only wind, and the creaking of his bed... Then a slow whine, louder, and louder, until it was a roar... He stood up, and discovered an open window. He stepped to it, heard the battering wind, and the groans of wood.
The king passed his head through it, and looked at the light. A great, shining light. It shone past him, into his eyes, and he heard the Prophet... He heard the reverberating voice.... A final echo, some soft words were spoken, and he was left in his bed...
Another day passed, and Aligore ran down the hallway for one last time. The king heard the knocking, and he opened the door.
News came that his kingdom had been found. Houses of brick and stone uncovered. No moss, no vines, no plants tearing it apart. No dust settling upon it, nothing. For, it was as new as ever. Aligore laughed, and told him about the arrow. They'd taken an archery contest, and shot upon Pnoaphales. Then one drunken explorer had readied and fired. An extraordinary wind had guided the arrow into bricks. They had heard the sounds of collision. When they saw the towns and houses, the explorers ran to tell them.
The king bid Aligore farewell and laughed. He set off on two oxen. His subjects followed him to the brick kingdom. The clouds parted to reveal the shimmering sun. He followed the Prophet's path, and reached his kingdom.
The Prophet had watched over them in the clouds, floating above them all, but hiding himself from their view... The Prophet, with thoughts everywhere, guiding the arrow to their town and village... The Prophet... He'd seen him... He'd seen the Prophet...
For years, they had traveled. Now, it stood, found by chance, found because of the Prophet. Not lost, and now found.."
Bernard stopped.
"A fine story", Darrell nodded towards Bernard.
"Good for me", David said, "But next time, not so long."
Osmond tapped his chin, and then, with a face glowing orange, "Where'd you find this type of story?"
"A long time ago, when I was eating some cherries, then I thought of it."
"That's it?", asked Osmond.
"Yes, but these cherries were the seeds of inspiration."
"So, you planted them, and buried them underneath the earth", Osmond tapped his chin, "That's fine with me, a small, simple, allegory."
"No, I spat them out, and walked away."
"What about seeds?", Osmond curled into a frown, and he began to resemble a blind mole.
"I'll never know what happened to them. Maybe they grew, maybe they died, I don't know", Bernard shrugged and leaned back, "But somehow, those cherries tasted terribly."
Bernard turned away, struggling to get something out of his bag. He turned, and wrestled the bag to the floor. David turned away, and saw colors streaking from another camp.
Something caught his vision. Red, blue, and gold. Around him, he saw light, others that had camped there before them. He'd ignored them before. But now, he saw Magi. They were handling Galtrand and Gotund. But practicing in silence, with light bursting at their fingertips sometimes, and sparks wavering in the air, but dropping like falling dew from wet leaves. His eyes had their full attention on them. Osmond turned to face the Magi, and Darrell did too. But Bernard had only a single glimpse before he turned away.
"Bernard! Bernard!", David waved his hands in the air, "Look at them! Their magic doesn't seem hard. Better and easier, they practice magic. "
"Yes... I can see...", Bernard mumbled. "I can see..."
"Take a look, maybe stare. Look! See? But, I bet... you can beat them.... Try it? Why not?"
"Yes... Yes... I could...", Bernard mumbled again, quieter and weaker. "I could... try..."
"Yes, you could.", David turned to face him again, "Bernard? Bernard?"
This time, Bernard didn't reply.
They continued talking throughout the night. But, he managed to doze off on the grass. He didn't drink from one of the vials in the box, and sleep overtook his mind. He slept soundly, the events of the day all behind him.
The sun rose into the air and it turned into the morning. David awoke after the others. He sat up and walked towards Bernards. A blue sky greeted them with clouds that spread across the sky like white ink fading into the ocean. Then the clouds parted to reveal the sun.
"By the Prophet! There's no food, there's no water. What sort of journey will this be?", he grumbled and coughed.
"There's a village close to here", Bernard replied, "We'll get some food from the markets and continue into the Gates."
"That's fine", David straightened. "Something inside me grumbles and gnaws at my mind. Sooner we eat and drink, the sooner I can finally relax."
"Then we'll see the tellurides", Bernard said, "Sometimes, their glow makes them blend into the sky, and I can never see them. Then I go walking, eating some sort of food, and one taps me on the back and surprises me out of my skin."
"The telluride in the village!" Osmond laughed, "They're great creatures, flying over the air. Things that many don't think about. Their immortality unlocks entire barriers to knowledge."
"Then you ask for Curiosity's sake."
"Yes", Osmond smiled at him, "Curiosity is my profession."
"With a toga dragging behind him, bald from thinking, and a beard growing. I can imagine that!"
"Yes, I can imagine that."
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