The Forgotten Land of Myria
Chapter 12 - Godfrey, the Aklatan-arian

ANGUS

We stopped under a sign that had something written in their native language.

“This is an ‘Aklatan’,” Livia explained. “Commonlanders know it better as a ‘library’.”

The entrance door looked about to collapse at any minute. It was smeared with a lousy green paint job, clearly worn out, and the knobs creaked when Livia pushed it. However, once we stepped in, my mouth dropped. In compensation for the entrance, the actual place was a wonderland. Green marble tiles sheeted the floor with red contrasting tiles forming a rose at the entrance. The walls on both sides were completely covered by one big agglomeration of bookshelves that outlined the entire place, forming an arch at the back wall, and at the very center of the library stood a large stone statue, whose figure I couldn’t quite make out.

At the far ends were two staircases on each side that led to the second story, each of them spiraling around a tree. Yes, there were leafless trees inside the library. Finally, at the very back was a smaller set of steps that led to a study with carpeted floors, a round wooden desk and some chairs. Even Roy was impressed with the place.

“Who--who owns this place?” he asked. “He’s around here--somewhere. Godfrey!” Livia called out.

“Coming out!” a shrill disembodied voice responded from somewhere within the walls of the library. “Just a minute!”

We then heard a series of completely unrelated sounds--pans banging, saws sawing, clitters, clatters, random piano keys, and I was sure I’d had heard a cat hiss--before a large door banged shut and a skimpy man shuffled into view at the end of the hall.

“Livvy! How delighted am I to see you!” he spoke in a plummy voice as he hobbled towards us.

“Hello, Godfrey,” Livia replied politely.

He was a small man and, though already of age, wore a lively smile as he shook Sky and Livia’s hands energetically before cocking his head in our direction.

“Well, what do we have here?” he said when he stopped in front of us. His spectacles were quite a piece. They had a sort of treadle on the side that allowed him to flip between different types of lenses. As he leaned toward me he clicked the treadle a few times and one of his eyes adopted a large lens through which he peered attentively at Roy and me.

“These are the Commonlanders,” Livia explained. “They’ve only just arrived.”

“Commonlanders!” Godfrey exclaimed, his magnified eye danced around us. “Where from?”

Livia nudged us to respond.

“Uhh--Australia,” Roy blurted out.

“And you?” Godfrey’s eyes rolled towards me.

“England.”

I saw his enlarged eye widen in excitement. “England,” he repeated dreamily, as if he’d been waiting to hear that word for years.

“Oh, England. It has been much too long.”

“You’ve--been to England?” I asked.

“Have I been there!” he boomed. “Why I was only so much as born and raised there!”

Roy’s face was misshapen with perplexity.

“Well then how did you--what are you doing here?” he asked. Sky raised his hand as if requesting some more respect from Roy.

“Oh, that’s a longer story than I can afford to tell,” Godfrey responded, rocking back and forth on his heels. I gulped.

An additional characteristic of his suddenly appealed to me making it feel like something hard had clasped my throat: his uncanny resemblance to Harold.

Everything about him coincided with Harold. Besides the jittery personality, it was his sleek white hair, neatly trimmed beard, the way he peered through his spectacles, the way he rocked on his heels when talking, and, most importantly, he, too, had the identical habit of drumming his fingers on his chest.

“So--you’re from England?” I asked trying to shake away the thought. Godfrey nodded. “Portsmouth,” he said. “Though I was also brought up in Wales for a large portion of my youth.”

“Like I said, he’s the reason we know what we know about the Commonland,” Livia added. “Come now,” Godfrey snapped after a few moments of silence.

“Let me show you around!”

We were taken through an entire kingdom of books, scrolls, and parchments on just about any subject you could imagine. There was a specific section of pieces written only in the Commontongue--as they called it. It had all kinds of interesting things; memoirs, recordings, encyclopedias that discussed different topics in Myria, and even compositions like original novels, poems, short story, and songs, as Godfrey explained.

I felt like I could spend hours, even days, rummaging through all the information within those interminable rolls of parchment. The most amazing thing is that the majority of the texts had been either originally written or put into record by Godfrey himself.

“And finally, the study!” Godfrey said, as the tour came to an end. He made one final gesture to the small room behind one of the trees that I had spotted earlier. I quickly noticed its clever design. The round windows surrounding the room had been built so that the room could be constantly, and fully, illuminated by daylight. To my strong disagreement, Livia announced it was time to move on.

“Godfrey!” I called, on my way out. “Would you mind if I came here some other time, to get a closer look at the publications?”

“Sure!” Godfrey agreed, wagging his head. “You’re free to return any time you like!” The raggedy door creaked shut behind us and we were back at the village plaza.

“Did you hear that?” Roy whispered, out of earshot of Sky and Livia as we moved on.

“Hear what?” I asked.

“The way that librarian said ‘come back anytime you like’...it was like he was thinking... that we’d be here for a while.”

I shrugged. As much as that seemed to bother Roy, it was the least of my worries. For all I knew, staying here “for a while” would give me enough time to collect as much information as I could about this mysterious new land whose technology seemed to be stuck in the 16th century.

We went all around the rest of the village visiting forgery shops that sold weapons and armor, a couple of food supply stores, and potion shops. Livia’s mood slowly lightened up, due to Sky’s friendly, demonstrative nature, just as he left to prepare some transportation--what for, I didn’t know. Livia then showed us the training fields, where Myrians learned and mastered their skills, and the trial cages. After hard training, one would go through the trials to ensure that they were ready to move to a higher class in their guild. The trial cages scared me a little bit, since I couldn’t find an escape hatch anywhere in it. After we left the cages, we were led inside a cottage with a nice view of the harbor. A smooth melody echoed through the entire village, like someone had whistled into a giant bullhorn.

“Leave your things here,” Livia said. “The Holutu Night is about to start, so we better get going. We’ll come back for them later.”

“What’s the Holutu Night?” Roy asked, meekly.

“We have it on special occasions where the skies light up in an array of flashes and auras. All Myrians, humans or not, gather around in Blanche Rock, just east of Timbervale, to feast and behold the phenomenon. In this case, it’ll also be a welcoming feast for you guys.”

“A--welcoming feast?” I asked.

“Yes. Commonlanders cannot enter our land unless they are welcomed in. On that note, you’ll have to put these on.”

She shooed two parcels in our hands.

“Just some basic robes. Nothing fancy, but at least you won’t feel out of place with that ridiculous Commonlander outfit.” She pointed at Roy with a despised look. Only then did I notice the detail that--possibly due to my overgrown excitement--I hadn’t noticed before. I couldn’t resist smirking; Roy was still in his hospital gown. From what I saw he only had time to pull on his shorts and a jacket over it, but it did look pretty bizarre.

“Now, go get dressed and meet me outside. Sky will be ready with the boats.”

I stripped off my clothes and awkwardly pulled on the robe. It was really just a one-piece cloak, but better resembled a potato sack with holes cut out for a head and arms. Worse, the inside was coarse, and it felt like hundreds of little sticks of hay were poking my skin. Completely inconvenient. To top it off, it came with a rope--like the one used to tie cargo up on a truck--to serve as a belt.

How fashionable, I thought.

I stepped out of the tapestries and saw Roy awkwardly picking at his own potato-sack robe, clearly wishing he had stuck with his hospital gown.

“What is it?” I asked, as I saw him laughing to himself.

“Oh nothing,” he quickly replied. “It’s just...my friend wore something kinda like this. He called it a poncho.”

Outside Livia greeted us with an approving look--making me think this was some kind of joke--and we started towards a shoreline, with a staircase that led to the sea. Under the staircase, a boat was tied to a wedge sticking out of the wall. Sky stood on the boat with a torch and a staff waiting for us. We climbed down the staircase and fell straight into the boat.

“Alright,” he said. “Everybody set?”

We nodded. “This isn’t gonna turn into a giant seaweed or something, is it?” Roy asked.

Sky laughed. “Nah, it’s smooth. Just hold this.”

He handed Roy the torch and grabbed a double-edged oar.

Livia cut the rope off the wedge and Sky began rowing. I was completely amazed when I caught a glimpse of the ocean. Rowing ahead of us, far off in the distance was a giant canoe-emphasis on the word “giant”. A regular canoe to the fifth power. From what I saw there were around a hundred people fitted in a single-file line. A few moments later, another colossal canoe grazed by us, gliding smoothly through the water.

The hundred or so Myrians perched on the canoe greeted us as they rowed past, a few of them finding my frightened expression amusing. Soon enough another handful of canoes zipped through, all of them heading in the same direction, towards Blanche Rock. A lightbulb switched on in my head as I remembered something. The only other time I’d heard of canoes that big were the ones used in the great Maori migration to New Zealand.

“Sky?” I called. “When were these canoes built?” Sky flashed me a curious smile.

“Interesting you’d ask,” he said. “These canoes were used in the first settlement of natives in Myria. According to the stories, the natives left their homeland, Hawaiki, in sixteen large canoes.”

My heart jumped to my mouth. In the myth of the great migration, only seven canoes arrived in New Zealand, which means nine of them were lost along the way. As they each rushed past us, I had counted exactly nine canoes. Sky went on.

“They left in search of a land they called Aotearoa. It means the--”

“Land of the long white cloud,” I said. All three heads-Roy, Sky, and Livia--turned to me with astonished looks on their faces.

“How do you know that?” Sky said, in wry amusement. But I didn’t think it was wise to share the other side of the story just yet. Instead, I lied my way out of it.

“Y--you said it. The name. I just repeated it.” Sky tilted his head unconvinced, but continued talking.

“There was a storm along the way that blew the canoes off course. Seven of them were lost. The other nine arrived here. In Myria. There were many different Hawaiki tribes involved in those nine canoes, but after seven generations of conflict, they ended up forming one large tribe--the Boniquippa.”

I cursed myself for having left my journal at the cottage-I had just made a huge historical discovery. Roy on the other hand, looked bored with the story and was more interested in the speck in the horizon that was Blanche Rock. From a distance, there were flashes in the night sky and blazes that almost looked like lightning. It was an even more vivid version of the polar lights. The small speck drew nearer and nearer, and there were cheers and laughter as we parked the boat near the nine Maori canoes.

It was suddenly the most exciting event I had ever been to. Different types of people were gathered around as if they were all family. In a way, it was almost like a carnival, with food stands, games and interesting attractions. The only difference was, for the attractions, instead of horses, pigs and other barn animals, these people had what looked like griffins, guffins and these humanoids with gigantic ears--Livia referred to them as panottis. I couldn’t seem to find one “normal” creature around, because, interestingly enough, those were “normal” creatures to them. The creatures weren’t intimidated by humans, or vice-versa.

Blanche Rock itself was quite stunning as well. There was a blue lake near the shore and tall trees surrounding the area. Inside, there was an enormous plain field of green grass where kids could play and run around. The center of the field had two gigantic round boulders stacked, one on top of the other. It was quite fascinating, how such a thing could be formed. Stacked, they stood around twenty feet tall. The night sky was just breathtaking. I didn’t think I would ever live to see such a star-lit sky.

Near the boulders was a podium under a tall tent, with some stone benches standing around it. A few cloths were also laid out around the field where people were having a picnic. Livia led us to two people, a man and a woman, sitting on one of the cloths. The man had olive skin, coily hair and a thick face, while the woman had an Eastern look. Her hair was black and ran sleekly down to her hip in a braid.

“Angus, Roy, these are fellow guild members of mine,” Livia explained. “Cristofano Veneranda and Nadiya Bangash”

“Care to let us join?” Livia asked.

“Of course,” Nadiya replied politely.

They passed fruits and bread around, and only then did I realize how hungry I was. I probably hadn’t eaten a proper meal in thirty-six hours or so, but I controlled myself not to gobble down the whole basket.

“So...these are the Commonlanders...,” Cristofano said, with a keen eye of examination. Livia ran down a quick report of the places we had been and the things we had learned, which, surprisingly, wasn’t much.

“Say, where’s Eleazar?” he continued, noticing he hadn’t shown up since he had left us.

“He’s getting ready for the ceremony,” Livia responded. Just then the same fiddling melody from before rang again and people began to gather around the tent.

“Is he like the master of ceremonies, or something?” Roy asked.

“More like the jester,” Nadiya scoffed.

“You’re kidding,” I murmured to myself. Out of all things I could imagine Eleazar doing, entertainment would never have crossed my mind. From what I knew of him, he was dull, sarcastic and arrogant. Well, he was also unpredictable...

We found our place on one of the stone benches for the “entertainment” to start. I honestly didn’t know what to expect.

Everyone went quiet as Eleazar walked up to the podium. I was quite disappointed. He was simply holding a cane and wearing the same clothes he had been wearing earlier. Nothing different. He stopped at the center of the stage. There was a long moment of silence as he looked around, standing profile to the audience, and examined each person with a stern expression. He lowered his head. Silence. A moment went by. Two. Three.

Suddenly, he threw off his ragged cloak and revealed a sparkling multi-colored unitard and pointy boots. From behind his back, he took out an over-the-top hat. It mostly looked like a giant flower on his head with the petals falling to his sides like a bride’s dress. Yes, he was unpredictable, but this was shocking. The crowd burst into laughter. Along with the foolish outfit, he contorted his face in a series of mad expressions, while bopping around. I noticed a twitch in his right eye, like it hurt him to do these things.

“Rilgol, play the tune will ya!” he yelled to a thin man standing to the left of the stage. The man took out a wooden flute and began playing a folkloric melody, as Eleazar recited a story in some old Irish folk-teller’s voice, complete with erratic movements and gestures.

“There was a time, long long ago, when giants roamed this land,” he began. “Not talking about the Tangatas. They were bigger, and fiercer. In some places, they were called goyles.”

As he spoke, people would walk onto the stage in costume and reenact what he was saying. Interactive storytelling--quite a spectacular show.

“The goyles were the ugliest, most repugnant creatures you could think of. Literally, what you could think of. See, they had a spell on them, a curse. They looked different to each person. That’s right. Each individual would see them as a reflection of how much evil was in that person’s heart. The more evil you had, the uglier they got.”

The intrigued crowd gasped and wowed in awe as Eleazar told the tale.

“But there was one child, a little girl, who changed the story. Her name was Lanai.”

He gestured upstage and a girl appeared in a white dress, wearing a large mask.

The crowd let out a synchronized “ohhh.”

“Lanai had a pure heart, an innocent heart. No evil surrounded her. Therefore, the goyles wouldn’t come near her. Her light shined too brightly. Kind of like this guy!”

A grogan stepped in the stage with an annoyed expression. Eleazar took his cane and tapped him, and his entire body lit up in flickering lights. The crowd burst in laughter, and the grogan rolled his eyes as he stepped aside. Strike two for unpredictable.

“Yes, kind of like him. An inner light. She was innocent, but courageous. She didn’t fear the goyles. With that said, one day a goyle appeared to her, but it couldn’t take form. It wriggled and twisted trying to fight it, but it began to shine. It grew brighter and brighter until his nasty form dissolved into thin air.

His true form was, to all except Lanai, unknown. Like this guy!”

Another grogan walked in, this one a little plumper, wearing a dark baggy outfit and the same irritated “Why am I doing this?” look.

“What happened next?” shouted a nasal voice from within the crowd.

Eleazar cleared his throat. “Little Lanai befriended the goyle. They grew close, to a point where they would visit each other. They would laugh and play, but there was a catch. He wasn’t seen by other people the way Lanai saw him. Everyone else still saw him as a nasty creature, for evil still lurked in their hearts. One day, it so happened that the people of the village decided to hunt that goyle down, believing he was nothing but pure evil. They found him, trapped him with ropes, and tortured him.”

The crowd gasped with each detail.

“They yelled, and threw stones and arrows at him, while he screeched and cried, until the most unbelievable thing happened...”

The story was interrupted by Rilgol, who, in his excitement, had choked, making the flute squeal.

“Sorry,” he said, clearing his throat.

“Very well. The most unbelievable thing happened,” Eleazar continued. “A sudden beam of fluorescent light flashed down between the villagers and Lanai appeared holding a silver pendant with a bright green stone. The villagers tried to get her out of the way so they could kill the beast, but no one was able to touch her.”

The audience went silent. Rilgol started playing a suspenseful melody, increasing in speed.

“She refused to leave and the villagers began to grow angry. She was bound to stand her ground and wouldn’t allow anyone to touch the monster. One villager then picked up a stone and continued throwing, and then another one joined in, until all villagers were stoning both of them. Lanai raised her silver pendant and a blinding light began to grow. It grew brighter and brighter, and the villagers around her fell to the ground as a dark aura was yanked out of their bodies. The stone was extracting all evil in the villagers’ hearts and sealing it. The power of the stone grew uncontrollably and Lanai began to ascend off the ground and slowly dissipate as the light dimmed out.”

Gasps, and sobs filled the intrigued audience.

“When the villagers woke up, they no longer saw a monster, but a majestic creature. An eloquent bird with large powerful wings of many shades of orange and red. People were confused at first, thinking the goyle had fled. Little did they know that that was the true original form of the goyle. As for Lanai, legend says she disappeared, never to be seen again--but her pure soul and inner light were sealed into a magical stone now called Lanai’s Heart.

The evil had been cleansed from the villagers’ hearts, therefore they saw the creature’s purity. It was a legendary creature. The Vermillion Bird. It spread its bright wings and flew away, fading into the horizon, never to be seen again. On its wings, bright flames, and around its neck was a silver pendant with the green stone.”

The crowd was silent as Rilgol held the last note. Eleazar bowed and the crowd suddenly went into outrageous cheers. The actors bowed in unison and Eleazar went back to doing some gestures and aerobic moves. After a while he took off his hat, put his cloak back on, grabbed his cane and walked out, back to his dull sarcastic self, as if nothing had happened.

“Yeah, he’s quite the peculiar personality,” I murmured to Roy, who looked like he had really enjoyed the presentation. “What now?” he asked.

“Now it’s you guys’ turn to step on the podium,” Sky said.

“Huh?” we both said. An old man walked on the stage.

“Settle down, settle down” he said, as the crowd’s cheers died down. “Good evening. Some of you may know that this is a quite special occasion. The Holutu night. The Welcoming night. That only means we have people to welcome.

“Newcomers!”

The crowd cheered as Sky shoved us towards the stage. Hesitating, we stepped onto the podium, with Sky behind us.

“It is my honor to present errr...” “Roy Kendon and Angus Harper,” Sky whispered.

“Roy Kendon and Angus Harper!” the man repeated.

The crowd roared in applause. Roy waved sheepishly, while I kept my hands behind my back, not knowing how to react. The old man signaled to his right, as one of the grogans who had been disguised in Eleazar’s skit walked up to us. Sky gestured for us to bow and the grogan put a silk scarf on each of our necks. It was navy blue with emerald beads.

“Welcome,” the old man said, as the crowd repeated it in cheers. We stepped down from the stage and the celebration began.

Everything was extremely festive. We spent the night with Livia and Sky. Kids frolicked in the fields, some guys attempted to climb the slanted boulders, and people gathered around the picnic cloths passing food around while fireworks cracked around the sky. Towards the end of the feast we took part in a cultural tradition where we were all gathered around a bonfire. We were each handed a golden pebble.

“Now listen carefully,” Livia instructed. “You clutch the pebble tightly, like this.” She demonstrated. “You will then dip it in the flame and quickly take it out.”

“You’re telling us to put our hands in the fire?” Roy scoffed.

“Just trust us,” Sky said, in a mocking manner.

Roy shut his eyes tightly and dipped the pebble. I clutched the pebble in a tight fist as well and dipped it, without thinking. I took my hand out and opened it, and found a bright fireball floating in my palm. It had the form of a bird, with bright red wings. Everyone else held the same flaming bird in their hands, too.

“A tribute!” a bearded man called out, appearing from amidst the crowd. “To the arrival of the Commonlanders, Roy Kendon and Angus Harper, and to the legendary tale of the Vermillion bird! May our wings always soar and our blades strike true!”

“Now on three, you’re going to simply point your hand towards the sky and blow,” Sky whispered.

He counted down and we released the birds along with everyone else who was gathered around the fire. Thousands of the little flames shot up, fluttering to the sky. It was stunning.

I fell back onto the grass and lay down with my hands behind my head for a better view.

“Magical, isn’t it?” Nadiya gasped, as she lay down next to me.

“Yes, quite,” I said, through gleaming eyes.

I looked around, breathing everything in. The air, the music, the people. I sighed. For the first time that entire day I thought about my old life. I thought about Margaret, and Harold, and began to wonder if what Eleazar had said was true. Was it all a lie? I realized there was still a lot more to discover about my past. About my real life. But I felt one step closer.

By the time we arrived back at the Musgrave harbor, millions of thoughts occupied my mind. Livia told us we could spend the night in the cottage where we’d left our things. Roy flopped onto one of the cots, not even bothering to take off his potato-sack robe. I, on the other hand, took to jotting down notes in my journal on everything I’d seen that night. The canoes, the creatures, the ceremony around the fire, all of it. Roy stared at me with a dumb face for a while, but I ignored it. S~ᴇaʀᴄh the Find_Nøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Angus,” he said tiredly, about an hour later. “What are we doing here?”

I closed my journal and pondered on his question.

“I’m not sure I know what you mean,” I responded. Roy sighed impatiently.

“Look, I’m not sure about you, but I’m leaving tomorrow,” he said. “I have a life of my own. A normal life. I have a handicapped sister to take care of. I can’t just wander off into this freak land--that seems to be stuck in a medieval freak show without a purpose!”

I sat quietly for a while looking for a good response but clearly there wasn’t one. In a way, what Roy was saying made sense, but I refused to agree with that thought.

“We were brought here,” I finally said. “Meaning it was for a purpose.”

“What purpose?” Roy asked. I shrugged.

“I guess we’ll find that out tomorrow.”

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