The Writer's Lodge

Brandon held tight to the cup of tea in his hands, absorbing its warmth. The sensation was the only thing convincing him this wasn't all a dream.

“S-s-so I made her invisible?”

“Precisely,” Lizebeth answered.

“Cool,” he replied, impressed with himself. He still couldn't get his head around the fact that he was important. Him. The skinny kid with the stutter. The one that always shied away from any sort of attention.

“Oh do please stop patting yourself on the back, there isn't time for that,” said Lizebeth interrupting his thoughts. “Leila's life is still in danger. Or technically, I should say: Leila's life was in danger still. I think. Time travel makes grammar so very confusing,” Lizebeth said removing her spectacles to rub her nose where they previously sat.

“We have to save her! How d-d-do we save her? We need to travel there by the sunstone.”

“Sadly it's not that simple,” said Lizebeth. “A relic is only good for one activation. But not to worry, Bram slipped up – by keeping the sunstone intact he allowed us to work out the exact time and region Leila's trapped in. I think I can reach her with another artifact.”

“How do you get someone out of t-t-the past?” asked Brandon, trying to get his head around everything he'd learnt so far.

“The easiest way is for her to stand on the original relic and destroy the activator, the piece of papyrus. She'll then return to the sunstone in our time - another reason it's so strange Bram left it untouched,” replied Lizebeth, the second part almost to herself.

Brandon waited patiently as her mind drifted off, deep in thought. When she snapped back to reality she seemed almost surprised to see Brandon sitting before her.

“We must be getting you to the library. You'll be safe there while you learn more about... everything,” she said, straight back to business.

“C-c-can you make things invisible, too?” Brandon asked, wanting answers now.

“No, I'm a marvel, not a concealer. We have different abilities. Mind influencing and mind reading are the wrong words to describe what I do, but they'll do until the right words appear. All clear?”

“No. S-s-so much still doesn't make sense,” Brandon confessed.

“Well, there are also trappers, self-explanatory really. And seers, although they're next to useless if you ask me. And finally there are...” she stopped mid-sentence.

The light in the apartment grew darker as the streetlight outside Brandon's window flickered and died. Lizebeth was immediately on her feet.

“We must go, now!” she said, her voice more urgent and alive than he'd heard it before.

“W-what? Why?”

“Shadows,” she said as she grabbed her cardigan sweater and headed for the door as fast as her elderly body would allow. “Come on, hurry. I can feel their minds racing towards us. Someone on The Guild must have... oh dear...”

The frosty, night air assaulted Brandon as he followed Lizebeth outside and down the stairs to the ground level. He would've run back for a jacket but something about the look on Lizebeth's face convinced him otherwise.

“Where's your automobile vehicle?” she asked.

“I c-c-catch the bus,” he replied.

“Then we shall have to walk most briskly.”

She made her way down the middle of the street as Brandon chased after her. She sure was sprightly for someone of her age. Brandon glanced nervously over his shoulder for whatever she was afraid of.

“W-w-what are shadows?”

“No time to explain,” she answered in-between rushed breaths.

“Can you help me make us invisible?” Brandon asked.

“It's no use, they hunt by smell,” she answered. “Now do keep up. Quick. Here. Cut across the park.”

She led Brandon through what was a pretty poor excuse for a park. One slide and a rusty set of swings in a large field of overgrown grass and weeds. Brandon raced along with Lizebeth, starting to wonder if perhaps this was all just the ramblings of a senile old lady. Certainly it was the explanation that made the most sense. One weird dream wouldn't turn him into a hero, after all.

Splash! He looked down at his sneaker, now at the bottom of a puddle. Great. He shook his foot in the air as he walked along trying to get it dry or at least less wet. They were almost at the end of the park when he first heard it. Splish --- Splish. It sounded like footsteps in the wet grass behind them.

He turned in the direction of the noise, straining his eyes to see anything in the darkness.

“H-h-how do you kill shadows?” he asked, a little embarrassed to be buying into her delusion.

“You can't kill them. Best you can do is trap them,” she replied as they stepped out of the park, back onto the footpath.

Splish--splish--splish. The noise was getting closer. Faster.

“A-a-are they deadly?” he asked, already suspecting the answer.

“No,” she said to his surprise. “Not often. They rarely kill. Rather they prefer to suck out your potential. When they're done, you'll wish for death.”

“Oh.”

She rushed him through a series of back alleys until, finally, the castle that housed the library came into view, high up on the cliff face. Brandon still couldn't help looking over his shoulder from time to time, not sure if he was imagining a presence behind them. The blackness of the night increased his paranoia, like when you feel something brush up against your leg in the ocean. He turned a corner chasing after Lizebeth and was startled to discover no sign of her.

“Lizebeth?” he called. His voice echoed out. No answer came back. What to do? That was when he sensed something. Movement in his peripheral vision. Scanning left and right all he could see was darkness and shadow. He backed up slowly towards the glow of the one nearby streetlight. Standing directly under it, he watched as the shadows started to grow towards him. He wasn't sure if it was his imagination, but he thought he could almost see the form of some sort of creatures in among the different hues of black. His imagination placed their size and shape as somewhere between a panther and a bull.

Clink.

Clink.

Clink.

The sound of large, heavy claws on pavement. Slowly inching they way towards him. It wasn't his imagination! He could hear them breathing and see their breath in the cold, dark air. All around him shadows grew closer. One let out a high pitched squeal that sent goosebumps racing across his body. The streetlight that Brandon stood under started to flicker.

“Lizebeth!” he cried out more urgently, as loudly as he could.

A massive, thunderous roar filled the night sky as a gust of wind flew past Brandon's head, causing him to instinctively drop to the ground. From his new position, he watched what he first thought was a small plane race by. As the streetlight returned to full power he got a better look at the... creature? It was around ten, maybe fifteen feet long; its torso covered in a protective metal armor. Fire shot from its mouth and the shadows around Brandon started to fade and retreat. It's a dragon he realised to his own amazement. A battle dragon!

The dragon raced back over Brandon's head and away, up into the clouds. He looked around the alleyway – everything suddenly looked brighter. It must be getting closer to dawn. Perhaps his sanity would return with the rise of the sun. Despite the lighter surroundings, he still couldn't see any sign of Lizebeth so he hurriedly made his way towards the castle, hoping he'd find her in that direction.

It was around the next corner that he found her, hunched over. She appeared to have taken a fall and he rushed to her side as she shakily tried to get back onto her feet. Kneeling down, he put one of her arms over his shoulder and helped her up.

“It w-w-was you, w-wasn't it?” he said, not daring believe it. “Ninian said you were an old battle dragon. I didn't realise he meant literally!”

“Ninian said what!?” she demanded. “Why that old...” She stopped herself, took a couple of deep breaths, then added, “It was just in your mind. I'm a marvel, remember? You only think you saw a battle dragon. Now, let's get inside before the shadows regroup.”

The doors to the Library closed behind them with a satisfyingly heavy thud. Already Brandon felt safer. Being inside the castle also seemed to give Lizebeth a second wind. She now stood freely again on her own two feet.

“I guess the time has come for more answers,” she said as she lead him through the library. “Tell me, what do you know about Atlantis?”

Brandon stopped in his tracks.

“W-what?” he asked. “The legendary island?”

“No, the casino in Reno... Yes, the legendary island.”

“It sunk.”

“It's going to be a long lesson,” sighed Lizebeth as she plucked a book from one of the shelves without looking and continued forward. “I'll start with the basics.”

“Many believe Atlantis to be merely myth – that Plato's dialogues were works of fiction. And it must be said, there is plenty of fiction to be found in there. However, if you look closely you find the seedlings of truth. Atlantis was indeed an advanced civilisation and its own corruption, in part, led to its downfall. Take that much as fact. And that's where The Guild come into play,” Lizebeth said as she led Brandon down the corridor leading to the central tower.

“Since its origin, The Guild has sort to prove the existence of Atlantis. Over the centuries, their knowledge has grown to the point that they now know about deplacement and how it occurs. It is their hope that one day they'll find a relic from the brief era where travel to Atlantis was possible. Or a relic from Atlantis itself. So far they have neither. We here at RUPL are determined to keep it that way.”

She took a key from her pocket and opened the door to the main tower. It was pitch black inside. He heard some rummaging noises, then a lantern came to life beside him, which Lizebeth passed to him as she lit another.

“But a-aren't you part of The Guild?”

“Yes, someone needs to keep an eye on them. They know I have potential, but don't realise the extent of my powers. My marvel abilities have been able to keep them in the dark. There is much they don't know.”

“So they're the b-b-b-bad guys?”

Lizebeth looked in him the eye, “No. They're a group of people, Brandon. And like any group of people, in them lies the potential for good and bad deeds,” she answered.

“Now you wait here. I'll be right back,” she said before handing him the book she grabbed earlier. “Why not read a bit of Plato's Timaeus while you wait.”

Brandon did as she said, sitting down by the staircase with the book. Most of it was hard to understand. He squinted as he continued to read by the faint light of the lantern: Now in this island of Atlantis there existed a confederation of kings, of great and marvelous power, which held sway over all the island, and...

“Who are you!? Badge please,” said a voice in the dark, startling him. After his encounter with the shadows, he was really starting to hate the dark.

Brandon swung his lantern across to see the familiar face of Ninian looking back at him expectantly.

“Hey Ninian, it's me. B-B-Brandon. The c-concealer.”

“Oh dear, this is not good. I'm having it. What's it called again?” said Ninian.

“Jamais Vu,” answered Brandon.

“Thats it! You're a bright one! I can tell I'm going to like you.”

Brandon smiled.

“You'll have to lose that ridiculous s-s-stutter though,” Ninian continued. “Now, what's with the book?”

“Lizebeth gave it to me, told me to r-r-read it.”

“Bah, that ol' battle dragon. You learn by doing, not reading. Follow me!”

Brandon hesitated. Lizebeth had been quite specific and she didn't seem the type to tolerate disobedience.

“I should stay here,” he finally said.

“Suit yourself,” Ninian replied. “I was only going to show you the most amazing thing you'll ever see in your entire lifetime. But yes, that book seems fun, too.”

Brandon stayed focused reading, ignoring Ninian as he hobbled over towards him. Then, with a swift, fluid motion Ninian flicked his walking stick up, connecting with Brandon's book, sending it flying out of his hands and into the black void of the library.

“Ninian!” Brandon said in annoyance. “W-w-why'd you do that?”

“A most fortuitous accident it was. Now come. Follow,” he said as he wondered off.

“B-b-but Lizebeth said...”

“Lizebeth said to listen to Ninian! It was in her subtext. Learn to listen, boy!” he said as he hauled himself up the staircase, one slow step at a time.

Lifting himself up, Brandon began to follow him. Hopefully they could make it back before Lizebeth even knew they were gone.

“W-w-where are we going?” Brandon asked.

“Up,” said Ninian as he climbed another step. “I'm seriously doubting your intelligence.”

“S-sorry,” muttered Brandon darkly to himself.

A few minutes later they reached the sixth floor, where Ninian directed Brandon through a door to the right and flicked a switch, flooding the new room with light. Brandon shielded his eyes as they adjusted to the brightness. When they finally did, he was astonished at what he saw. The room stretched back for what seemed like eternity and was filled with relics – hundreds, possibly thousands of them. Everywhere he looked it seemed there were priceless artifacts.

“Welcome to the Relic Room,” said Ninian proudly.

“T-t-this is amazing,” said Brandon lost for words as he studied the room.

There was so much to look at. He walked across to an ancient sword and examined it. On one side he found the words, Take me up and on the other side Cast me away.

“Is t-t-this... no it's impossible,” said Brandon.

“Not impossible,” said Ninian laughing. “It is Caledfwlch – although you may know it as...”

“Excalibur,” whispered Brandon.

“Exactly,” said Ninian laughing.

“B-b-but that's just fiction.”

“Parts of it yes. Parts of it, no,” said Ninian. “Merlin was a marvel with a wonderful sense of humour.”

“Merlin was a reckless liability to our people,” said a stern voice behind them, scaring them both. “By now I've learnt to expect your insubordination Ninian, but I had hoped for better from you, Mr Amery.”

“Lighten up Lizebeth,” said Ninian.

“People are dying! The Guild is closer than ever to learning the nature of our existence and Bram seems to picking us off one by one, so I will most certainly not lighten up.”

She had a way of looking at you that made you fill up with shame and guilt, Brandon noted. He quietly stood there, looking for some way to apologise as she took a deep breath.

“Furthermore, someone sent shadows after Brandon tonight. I think The Guild has a traitor.”

“You're the traitor, remember? You daft old bat!” said Ninian.

“Another. Traitor,” Lizebeth said, the tone making it clear that her patience would stretch only so far.

“Nevertheless,” she continued. “We are here now, so we may us well show him. He needed to see it at some point anyway.”

“N-n-needed to see what?” asked Brandon nervously.

“Come, it's easier if you see for yourself,” said Lizebeth simply as she climbed a small staircase about ten feet from the room's entrance. Reaching the top, she undid a latch in the roof and pushed open a trapdoor leading outside. Brandon followed her up the stairs and out into the crisp morning air.

Outside they were on the roof of the castle as the sun began to rise, gently bathing the coast in golden light.

“The thing about Atlantis is: it was actually the smallest of four such islands. While it may have sunk, the others survived, thrived and continued to advance,” Lizebeth told Brandon.

But Brandon wasn't listening to a word she said. Instead he was looking on, awestruck, as he gazed out at a mass of land that rose up out of the ocean leading to a city in the clouds. The city was unlike any city he'd ever seen in his life. Even through it was a great distance away, he could recognise a few distinct features, including what appeared to be a giant sphinx and pyramids carved out of glass or crystal. The island in the sky was way beyond the scope of the word beautiful.

“The city of Persephone,” said Lizebeth with a smile. She glanced across at Brandon, who could only stand there in shock, his mouth wide open. “Oh, do close your mouth before a fly makes its home there.”

“You didn't really think concealers could only conceal people, did you?”