I am reading those Frankenstien books you told me about. They’re neat, not in my top 5, but good nonetheless. I’m on the third one. And the stinking things keep on crawling into my dreams, like two or so nights ago, Duecalion killed me, marking the first time I can remember dying in a dream.
—
“If your Highness wishes it, I can show them to what must be done. Explain it to them, and such,” the mage closest to Dacre asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence that snuck in.
Dacre clenched his jaw, “I seem to have forgotten my stature. I am King. Even here, in this blasted forest. You have already been given a second chance… You’re lucky I need you, Ature, or I’d have hung you for your insolence.” ((Really. Really? That’s it. Gosh, you are retarded Dacre.)) He watched his words sink in. But, they did not. Rowan didn’t care. To him, what Dacre had said was that he could say anything he wanted, becasue finally, he was worth something.
“Whatever,” Rowan shrugged and followed after the kindly mage. They left the tent and went to an open feild behind the main tents. The grass was lush there, and there were no flowers. Just a natural grass field.
“Our discovery that was mentioned earlier,” the mage siad, sitting crosslegged on the ground. Rowan followed suit, and without grace. Lewis wobbly got to the ground too. “Was with great labor. In fact, even because of theat, none of us are entirely sure if it will work. Especially considering everything on the key points to the door of the Dead, whose proper name is most definitely not Doomsdoor, its Acyrpha. It takes its root cryph from what all the simple magicians call the Pure Language. But there is no way I’m getting into its real name. Far too complicated. Pure Language will have to do.”
Rowan yawned.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I always seem to get on these tangents. Please, forgive me.” The mage stretched out his hand to Rowan. “Let’s restart things. My name is Martin. how nice to meet you.” He shook hands with Rowan then grabbed Lewis’s hand and shook his. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”
Lewis grinned. “How do you do, Martin?”
“Very well thank you,” Martin replied. “Okay, now let’s get started, what do you say?” ((From here on out may contain incorrect information, and not enough of the right information. Bare with me until it gets reworked.))
“Yah, I guess. Explain it first though,” Rowan told him.
“We think we can move the door from the castle to here. Their leader won’t be in it, he’s out pillaging or something. Whatever. Doesn’t matter. All that does matter is that all the elements are the same. We’ll do it at night, you say it, and so on and so forth. Except, instead of caring about opening the door, becasue when it gets hereit will already be opened from last time, we’ll deal with closing it. That is the hard part. To keeep the door closed, the key must be destoyed. And, it must be closed from the inside. The one who does that will be stuck on the other side forever. We have no idea how to open it again, because once the door closes, it sinks back into the ground.
“The person to do that would have to be brave beyond all measure. We do not have a set person to do tit. So, do not think it must be you. Though, if you patronize Dacre any more, he will most likely have you both shoved in,” Martin explained.
“That doesn’t sound like fun…” Rowan said.
“Of course not. No one knows what the land of the Dead looks like,” Martin agreed.
“But, that won’t get rid of the skeletons that are already here,” Lewis mentioned.
“No, it will not. You are completely right. We’ll have to fight again.”
“We don’t have enough people though. You killed your own natives,” Lewis said, condemning Martin with no remorse.
“I know what I have done is wrong. I should have tried to save more. Yet, for this, it may not matter. We have magic on our side, and our King intends on having a peace treaty with our closest neighbors. We traded with them during his father’s reign, we hope that they will still be kind.”
