One Step Forward

[Lewis and Simon]

The timing of this story idea is very strange. It came hours after I spent my first time playing The Reincarnation (Archmage) in almost two years. I find the possibility of this game being my muse very disturbing.

 

This is another attempt of mine to actually work through a serial. I've had a horrible track record with long stories, and Zadown suggested I try something smaller. Well I honestly did try to do a small story this time, but it just ended up like this. These things just seem so short and simple in my head, but they always end up becoming these long stories that I never finish.

 

Anywho, I will try to finish this one, I've got maybe half of it worked out so far, along with the ending. Hope you enjoy.

[Isachar]

Part 01: Botched Escape

 

In the end, there was nothing, would be nothing. It was all finally over. The great tolls of the Armageddon Clock were beginning to chime, and its tone reverberated to the heart of Terra. The world heard the clock, and it answered. It began to crumble away. In a strange sort of way, Isachar actually felt quite relieved…

 

“I told you we should have sent the zombies to our left flank!”

 

“Now that’s a steaming pile of spoon, and you know it!”

 

…Isachar would have really, really liked to have felt relieved. He turned to find Lewis and Simon, his squirrel lieutenants, still poring over their maps. They had vigorously taken to the task of defending Isachar’s home in the world’s final days, but it all came to no avail. Iverlen was in ruins. And they argued over whose fault it was.

 

“Enough,” Isachar commanded, and he imagined, not for the first time, how much simpler his life would have been if he had been able to find the receipt.

 

The two squirrels spared their master a glance. Neither was friendly. That was contempt coming from Lewis, Isachar was almost sure. It was always contempt from Lewis. Simon was a little more difficult to read. Was that indignation? Either way, it did not last long. A moment later the two squirrels returned to their maps. And their insults.

 

This time, it was more fevered. They weren’t even talking anymore, just chittering at each other wildly. Lewis slammed his furry fist down on the map, as if trying to declare some sort of finality to their contest. Simon took a small hop backwards in surprise, and then he snarled and drew an acorn. That was the last straw.

 

“I said,” Isachar boomed. “Enough!”

 

They stopped, and for a moment, Isachar thought that miracles really did exist. But as Isachar took a closer look, he despaired. Lewis’ eyes twitched as he stole brief glances as Simon, and the tiny squirrel flexed his arms anxiously. Simon was no better though, tightening his claws together into small fists and then releasing them quickly. Isachar knew this was the best he would get, and he sighed.

 

“You can continue this little argument once we get to the Pen,” he said, exasperated. “Then you pelt each other senseless, for all I care.” They seemed to like that. “But that has to wait, for now. In case you hadn’t noticed, it’s the apocalypse.”

 

“When isn’t it,” Lewis quipped.

 

“When you’re not there to screw it up,” Simon spat, and he hurled his acorn.

 

Isachar saw that the situation was worse than he had feared. Even Simon had stopped making sense; the little squirrel had completely snapped.

 

It had been a mistake to leave them in charge, Isachar realized. The two were too different in their control. Lewis was aggressive and cocky. Simon was cautious and withdrawn. They had been trained to advise. He should never have given them command.

 

The two were completely out of control now, dodging through the ruins hurling acorns at each other. Whatever magic they used to draw them out was a complete mystery to Isachar, and at that particular moment, he could not care less.

 

He drew out a parchment from his coat and carefully unrolled it. While the scroll was far from old, it had not been touched in a very long time, and Isachar did not dare be brash at a time like this. He took careful note of the writing. Several of the runes were new, but it was all still quite familiar. He was sure the spell would take them home.

 

Isachar made certain to extend the reach of the spell to touch the entire room. He did not wish to leave his Squirrel Duo stranded; after all, they were still his responsibility. And then he began to chant. The room was cast in a pale blue glow as the energy of the recall spell began to gather. Isachar smiled and almost began to imagine the homecoming he’d be receiving.

 

Almost.

Edited October 9, 2004 by Isachar

[Lewis and Simon]

It had been such a beautiful plan, simple yet elegant. It would have worked had he not been there to screw it up. Simon’s critiques were nothing more than the fearful mutterings of a scared little boy, but Lewis had heeded them, that had been the condition Isachar had laid down when he had left Iverlen to them.

 

The two squirrels had compromised until they had castrated his beautiful plan, and when Last Days began, it had all fallen apart. Standing there, in the ruins of their once mighty stronghold, Lewis realized it all. And he was angry.

 

The two danced around the room, locked in mortal combat. Acorns flew through the air in such numbers as they had not seen since their Imp Project. But to no avail. Both were adept at reading the other’s movements by now, and this only enraged Lewis further

 

He screamed wordlessly as he drew his largest acorn yet. He hurled it blindly, putting all his might behind it. Simon easily dodged the projectile, and it arced upward. Lewis cursed and drew another, but he stopped as he noticed something. He gasped. Simon frowned and followed his gaze. His eyes widened when he realized what was about to happen.

 

“Oh fork,” they muttered together.

 

The errant acorn tore through the scroll and struck Isachar squarely between the eyes. He stumbled backwards in surprise, only to trip over a fallen piece of timber. He fell backwards cursing, and his head bounced against the stone floor. He did not get up.

 

The two squirrels stared at Isachar, then at each other. They panicked.

 

“Is he alright!”

 

“What should we do!”

 

“What was he doing?!”

 

Lewis noticed, for the first time, that the room was bathed in an eerie blue light. Isachar had been working a spell. The distant rumbling of the dying earth reminded Lewis again that Armageddon was fast approaching.

 

“He was casting a recall spell!” Lewis exclaimed in a panic.

 

“I know that,” Simon hissed.

 

Lewis did not bother to argue the point. He scurried over to Isachar and tried everything to rouse him, but the young mage would not stir. He was out cold.

 

“Can you read it!” Lewis called back to his partner.

 

“I have no idea where he left off!” Simon shouted back. “I don’t suppose you were listening to him!”

 

“Do I ever?!”

 

Simon did not answer. Lewis scurried back to him and glanced at the scroll. It was largely intact, save for a rather large acorn-sized hole in the middle of the fragile parchment. It now skewed more than a few runes, but that hardly mattered now. Simon was right, without knowing where Isachar had left off, they would never be able to finish the incantation.

 

The soft blue light turned to a deep red, and it began to screech. Lewis realized they were out of time. The magic had to be released. Simon realized this too.

 

“Guess!” he shouted to Lewis.

 

“What?!”

 

“We don’t have any time left! Pick a place and finish it!”

 

Lewis boggled. It was insane. Magic was not something you toyed with unless you know what the spork you were getting in to. But as magic began to howl more persistently, Lewis realized they didn’t have a choice. Picking a spot on the parchment past the acorn hole, he began to read. His voice was unsteady and broken. The howl deepened.

 

Then, he felt Simon’s paw on his shoulder, and he was strangely reassured. All their angry words seemed so distant now, and Lewis’ intoned the incantation with a firm voice. The light slowly returned to its soft shade of blue. Simon sighed. Lewis finished the incantation.

 

The light gathered above the two squirrels and the collapsed mage. That was slightly encouraging.

 

“What happens now?” Simon asked, staring up at the light.

 

“Who knows,” Lewis replied

 

The two stared up at the light in silence. The enchantment seemed strangely long, longer than a simple recall spell should be. Lewis was worried.

 

“Lewis?” Simon began, turning back to him.

 

“Hmm?”

 

“We’re going to be in trouble, aren’t we?”

 

Lewis only nodded.

 

The rumbling collapse of Terra continued in the distance, but the two squirrels stared up at the hovering blue light above them, watching as the last of it gathered together. Without warning, it came crashing down, and the two squirrels gulped.

 

The world was enveloped in light.

[Isachar]

Isachar groaned. He felt a twinge in his ankle, but the back of his skull throbbed angrily, demanding his full attention. He struggled to remember what had happened to him as he groggily opened his eyes. He quickly snapped them shut in the face of a blinding light. Was that the sun…what was going on? The distant earthquake reminded him.

 

Armageddon! The recall spell!

 

He snapped his eyes opened again. The spell had been completed. But how? He looked at the light more closely and realized that something was very wrong. The energy had taken on a different form. He looked down and found his answer. Lewis and Simon were hovering over the scroll.

 

He struggled to open his mouth, trying to dispel the enchantment, before it was too late. The light exploded outward, and all Isachar could do was mutter a small pittance into the infinite cosmos.

 

“Why me?”

 

The world was enveloped in light.

 

(To Be Continued...)

[Isachar]

Part 02: Stranded

 

Isachar sailed through the ether, wincing at its near blinding light. He could barely make out Lewis and Simon slightly ahead of him, flailing about frantically, trying to find some balance in the void. At least the two squirrels had succeeded in casting a recall spell. Had they all been polymorphed into sheep, Isachar would have made certain their last few moments on Terra were as painful as possible.

 

Their destination came rushing up before them at last, and the ether split open with a great belch and dropped them back into reality. They landed gently onto a green field. Lewis and Simon both dropped to their feet, while Isachar landed flat on his face. As the pain began to reach him, all the backed up emotion welled up to join it. Then, Isachar did something most peculiar. He uttered a sound that he would later find that he was unable to reproduce. All at once, he was sobbing, shouting, whimpering, and wailing.

 

He sobbed mournfully at his throbbing head. He shouted angrily at his throbbing leg. He whimpered tearfully at his throbbing face. But he wailed despairingly over the fact that his two lieutenants had thrown him face first into the multiverse, completely blind. It was really quite horrible to hear. Both Lewis and Simon covered their ears and winced.

 

“What on earth possessed me to actually summon the two of you?” he sighed, picking himself up off the ground.

 

“Believe me,” Lewis began. “The feeling is more than-“

 

Simon smacked the back of his head, hard.

 

“What the spoon was that for?!” Lewis growled.

 

“Who threw the acorn that got us sent here in the first place,” Simon shot back. “I wonder…”

 

“A tiny miscalculation,” Lewis conceded.

 

“You missed,” Simon said simply.

 

“An error of judgment,” Lewis corrected. “I thought you had the common sense to realize what you were standing between and take the blow like a squirrel.”

 

“Don’t you dare try to pin this on me!”

 

“I’m not ‘pinning’ anything on anyone. Your guilt is simply your own conscience getting the better of you.”

 

“Blow it out your tail!”

 

The two squirrels went silent then, content to merely exchange angry glares. They were back to normal then. Isachar smiled. He was glad that whatever relationship the two had before Armageddon was somehow preserved, though he was unable to understand why that put him at ease.

 

He left the two squirrels to their devices and returned his attention to his own pain. There were no major injuries, just a couple of bad blows to the head and a sprained leg. Still…he cast a simple healing spell.

 

Nothing happened.

 

“How…” he muttered.

 

Carefully, Isachar felt about for the magic he needed to work the spell and drew back in shock. That just wasn’t possible. He turned to stare at Lewis and Simon in disbelief.

 

“What have you two done...?”

Edited October 13, 2004 by Isachar

[Lewis and Simon]

After his accusation, Isachar had just fallen silent, his face etched in stunned disbelief. Lewis and Simon spared a moment’s glance at each and then back at their still-frozen master. Simon noted that he did look a good deal paler than he usually did.

 

He leaned over to Lewis and whispered, “Did you…”

 

“No,” his partner responded firmly.

 

Simon withdrew and glanced back at Isachar. His mouth was twitching sporadically. He was very much in shock. Again, Simon leaned over to Lewis.

 

“Are you sure you didn’t…”

 

“Not a thing,” he said.

 

This time, Simon was even less convinced.

 

“Really?”

 

“Yes!” Lewis hissed at him. “Why won’t you believe me!”

 

“Do you really need me to answer that question?” Simon replied, still skeptical.

 

Lewis glowered at him, and Simon decided not to force the issue. For once, Lewis did seem sincere. He turned back to Isachar, only to find their master no longer frozen in place. He had curled into the fetal position and was gently rocking himself back and forth.

 

“Not there…” Isachar was muttering to himself. “Not there…”

 

Worried, Simon cautiously approached the young mage. Isachar paid him no heed, just rocked himself quietly and muttered the same two words over and over. Simon gently tugged on his coat sleeve.

 

“Isachar?” he prompted gently.

 

Without warning, Isachar snatched the tiny squirrel from the ground with both hands and brought the him close to his face. Simon stared at the mage’s fear-filled eyes, and he gulped.

 

“It’s just not there!” Isachar screamed, and he shook Simon till the squirrel thought he would throw up.

 

“Will you just get a grip!” Lewis shouted as he jumped atop Isachar’s head, his claws digging hard into the base of the mage’s skull. He peered down into his eyes and snarled, “Just what the spork is wrong with you!”

 

Isachar blinked, and when he opened his eyes again, Simon saw that they were different. The fear was still there, but it was more controlled now. His grip loosened, and Simon crawled out and hopped up onto Isachar’s shoulder.

 

“What’s not there?” he asked quietly.

 

“The m-magic…” Isachar whispered shakily. “It’s…gone…”

 

Simon glanced at Lewis, still perched on Isachar’s head, curious if he understood any of this. His partner only shrugged, and Simon turned back to Isachar.

 

“Gone?” he asked.

 

“It’s just not there…” Isachar repeated. “There’s no magic on this world…”

 

It was a long, long time before any of them spoke again. The implications of Isachar’s declaration were all frighteningly clear. They were stranded.

 

(To Be Continued….)

[Isachar]

Parth 03: A World Without Magic?

 

Shrouded and cloaked, Isachar slid his way through the bustling crowd. It had been a week since they had fallen into this strange and terrible world, and they had not found this city until yesterday. This place had not held any importance to him, but it was the first sign of civilization they had seen aside from the occasional traveler. The roads had nearly been empty until they neared this place.

 

For its part, Filerdin was a rather small city, but by no means quiet. Townspeople hurried about for one reason or another, loudly and quickly. Merchants pushed their way through crowds as though they owned the place, and Isachar idly wondered just how much power the trade guilds held in a place like this. If they were unable to find a way out…

 

Isachar again reached out for the magic he’d need to get off this world, only to scrape against the emptiness. He fumed silently. Terror had gradually given way to acceptance, and with acceptance came the anger. While this world did not seem a particularly poor one, Isachar had no desire to live out the remainder of his life here.

 

“Move over!” a tiny voice from under his cloak hissed.

 

“You’re on my side!” another voice replied with equal venom. “You move over!”

 

And suddenly, Isachar felt small jabs along his back. He could already feel the eyes turning to him. Sighing, he ducked into an alleyway, opened his cloak, and glared angrily down at the two squirrels clinging to his coat and batting at each other. They hardly seemed to notice him.

 

“Will you two cut it out,” Isachar growled. “In case you hadn’t noticed, we’re trying not to draw attention to ourselves. We are failing!”

 

The two squirrels looked up, as though noticing Isachar’s presence for the first time. Slowly, sheepishly, they put they disengaged from each other.

 

“Why do we have to be stuck under here anyway,” Lewis muttered indignantly. “No offense, but you stink.”

 

“Not all of us can groom our entire bodies in a series of licks,” Isachar retorted

 

“It is a bit stuffy,” Simon concurred with his partner. “I think we’d both be a bit more agreeable if we could get a little air.”

 

“Oh yes,” Isachar replied sarcastically. “And a guy walking around with two squirrels perched on his shoulders isn’t conspicuous at all.”

 

“You could let us follow you along the rooftops,” Simon suggested.

 

“Oh no, I’m not letting you two out of my sight,” Isachar said firmly. “You’re going to stay here until we find an inn, and you’re going to like it.”

 

The two squirrels did not like that in the least.

 

“Fine,” Lewis replied. “But you had better find one fast. If you don’t…” He brought a claw around to Isachar’s ribs and brushed it. Isachar barely held back the laughter.

 

“And when you fall over laughing and people come to find out what’s the matter, we certainly won’t be the ones looking conspicuous,” Simon pointed out. “After all, we’re just poor, innocent squirrels caught in some sicko’s disgusting animal fetish-“

 

“Well would you look at that,” Isachar said dryly, cutting Simon off. “I do believe I see an inn.” He pointed to a small building across the street.

 

Lewis and Simon both nodded.

 

“We’re just glad you understand.”

[Lewis and Simon]

Simon took a huge breath of fresh air and exhaled it all at once. He dozed atop a rather comfortable bed, alone in one of the most expensive rooms the inn had to offer. Isachar was in the private bath he had demanded a bath drawn for him the second they had arrived. Simon heard his off-key humming from the adjoining bathroom. The staff had been too quick to respond once he’d tossed a small lump of gold their way. So much for keeping a low profile.

 

As for Lewis, he had hopped out onto the roof to be alone, and Simon couldn’t blame him. There were just things two squirrels should never, ever do together. Hiding together underneath a human’s cloak was one of them.

 

A knock came at the door, interrupting his peace and quiet. Simon sat back up rather quickly to see a maid quietly open the door. She carried a tray with a small kettle and an elegant but simple porcelain cup. A service from the inn, he wagered, trying to garner more money out of their new, wealthy guest.

 

Simon watched as she took note of him, sitting alone on the bed, and she tilted her head, confused. Simon only returned the gaze quietly. After a moment, she shrugged and went back about her business, placing the tray on a small table in the corner of the room. She then made a move towards the bathroom, but stopped.

 

The maid just stood there for a moment, debating something. Whatever it was, she eventually made up her mind and turned around and made for the exit. She had placed her handle on the doorknob, when Simon did something very stupid.

 

“Thank you,” he said. The words came unbidden, and he immediately clapped a paw over his mouth.

 

The maid whirled around, her eyes darting about in surprise. When they finally came to rest on Simon, the squirrel shifted uncomfortably. The surprise in her eyes turned to fear.

 

“Umm,” Simon stuttered. What could he possibly say now?

 

“…M…M…!” she began to mouth.

 

“Could we just forget I said anything?” Simon asked sheepishly.

 

“…Ma…Ma…!”

 

“Please?”

 

“MAGIC!!!”

 

The scream was deafening. She backpedaled as fast as she could, slamming herself against the wall. She grabbed at the doorknob desperately, never taking her eyes off of the tiny squirrel. Finally, she managed to get a hold of it, slammed the door open, and ran into the hallway screaming.

 

Isachar rushed into the room, draped in nothing but a towel. He glanced outside; the maid was still screaming. He quickly shut the door, locked it, and braced it with a chair.

 

From behind the both of them, Lewis opened the window loudly and angrily. He had a sneer on his face.

 

“And we all rue the day Simon ever met Elrond Peredhil,” he spat.

[Isachar]

The room had been silent ever since the maid had burst out screaming. Outside, there had been some sort of panic, but it was all quiet now. Everyone had gone. Isachar was worried.

 

When Lewis returned, he had a worried look on his face. Isachar had sent him out to do some scouting. His expression did not bode well for their flight from this place.

 

“How bad is it,” Isachar asked, pulling his heavy coat over him.

 

“Bad,” Lewis replied, watching the scene down below. “I count maybe twenty or so now.”

 

Isachar cursed quietly and began putting his boots back on. Somewhere behind him, Simon was berating himself for his stupidity and doing a rather good job of it.

 

“It would seem magic here isn’t as dead as you thought,” Lewis said, still looking out the window.

 

“The thought had occurred to me as well,” Isachar replied. “But whatever magic used to be here, it’s long since dried up.”

 

“Or just sealed.”

 

“We should be so lucky.”

 

Isachar tied the last knot on his boots and looked up. Simon was still kicking himself over it all. That was the last thing he needed right now.

 

“Simon,” he said. “Forget about it for now, we have to go. I’m sure Lewis will take his time with this little screw up later, once we’re gone from here.”

 

“You can count on that,” Lewis agreed.

 

Simon grimaced at that, but he nodded and hopped onto Isachar’s shoulder.

 

“Think you can lead us out of here in one piece?” Isachar asked Lewis, walking over to the window.

 

“As long as all of those guys with swords just stay perfectly still,” the squirrel replied.

 

“Then lead the way.”

 

“Just see if you can keep up,” he grinned and hopped out onto the rooftop.

 

Isachar followed suit and winced as he heard the thump his weight brought down onto the roof. Suddenly, there were shouts from below. He looked down and saw people staring and pointing. Isachar grimaced.

 

“Smooth,” Lewis muttered, and he broke into a sprint. Isachar followed.

 

They followed the rooftops a ways, but the shouts of alarm and anger did not disappear. They weren’t shaking them. Without warning, Lewis leapt off the rooftop down into the alleys. Isachar took a deep breath and jumped down after him. He landed with a loud thump and a terrible pain in his legs. He fell to one knee.

 

“Suck it up,” Lewis urged him.

 

Isachar took another moment and stood back up shakily, but by then it was too late.

 

“He’s over here!” someone shouted.

 

Isachar whirled around to find a uniformed man facing him down, sword drawn.

 

“Take him out fast,” Lewis said. “We need to move!”

 

“Uh,” Isachar was at a loss. “And how do you expect me to do that?”

 

“You were a knight in the Legion of the White Rose,” Simon reminded him from his shoulder. “Smashy, smashy!”

 

“Mage knight,” Isachar corrected him.

 

“Oh for crying out loud,” Lewis groaned. “Don’t tell me you never learned how to fight.”

 

“I joined a guild called ‘The Pen is Mightier Than the Sword’!” Isachar cried defensively them. “What does that tell you about me?!”

 

“Bloody sporking-”

 

The clang of the sword hitting the ground suddenly reminded them all that there was someone else present. Their would-be captor was backpedaling furiously, looking very afraid.

 

“Umm…” Isachar was very puzzled at this for a moment, but then he figured it out. He gently plucked Lewis off the ground, held him out to the man, and asked, “Would you like to see my squirrel?”

 

The man ran away screaming.

 

“It must be your charming personality,” he said. Lewis did not look amused.

 

The shouts came again, and this time they came from in front as well as behind. Isachar groaned as it came quite certain that he was going to get caught.

 

“Get going, you two,” he sighed. “But don’t you dare leave me rotting in some cell on this magic-forsaken world.”

 

“How selfless,” Lewis snorted. Simon only nodded.

 

Then they were both gone, out the alley and lost in the city. He sighed and got back down to his knees, hands behind his head, and waited.

 

“There’s the magic user!” he heard someone close shout.

 

“Careful!”

 

“Seize him!”

 

The hands came on him then, pressing him to the ground as they restrained him. His hands were tied roughly behind his back and he was forced to march. He sighed and again wondered how much simpler his life would be if it wasn’t for a certain pair of tiny, furry animals.

 

And then Isachar felt something strange. He jerked his head up in surprise. It was impossible, but there was no mistaking it. He was being watched. The source was far away, but it was there.

 

He didn’t know whether or not to laugh or to cry, so he ended up doing a little of both. The guards were staring at him. Some whispered questions to their comrades, only to get shrugs in return. Isachar couldn’t have answered any of them either.

 

All he knew was that this world had just gotten a lot more complicated.

 

(To Be Continued...)

Edited October 19, 2004 by Isachar