At World's End Page 2

  “What is it, Dad? Just tell me.”

  Zac’s father smiled again and got back to his feet. He took the cigarette off the kitchen counter and placed it in his mouth, taking another deep drag.

  “Well, I suppose you’re old enough.”

  “Tell me, Dad.”

  Zac’s father seemed to shrug to himself, and then he started speaking slowly after taking another drag of his cigarette.

  “I suppose you’ve figured that your King is very much a superstitious man.”

  Zac shrugged.

  “Well,” his father continued, “this war is probably the greatest threat the kingdom has faced since it was founded a thousand years ago. A large army of heathens will descend on our beautiful kingdom, and the chance of success looks bleak.”

  Zac frowned. “Why don’t you come with me, then, Dad? If it’s an unwinnable war, you should save yourself and Mom while you still can.”

  Zac’s father smiled. “I hope it was that easy.”

  “It is easy!” Zac insisted. “Let’s travel together, then.”

  “What I haven’t told you yet is the strategy that the King is using to win this war.”

  Zac looked at his father. “There is hope for winning this war, then? That’s surprising.”

  The cooker behind them let out a steaming noise, and Zac’s father put out the fire. He proceeded to remove cups from the top shelf in the room and poured in a concoction of sugar, milk powder, and drinking chocolate. The cigarette was still burning seamlessly between his darkened lips.

  “What are you not telling me, Dad?”

  Zac’s father sighed, putting the cigarette down on the kitchen counter.

  “The King has gathered magicians from across the country and is killing all boys less than eighteen years of age in the kingdom as a sacrifice to the gods to grant us victory.”

  Chapter 2

  The Kingdom of Atlantis was in a mess. Everybody was scrambling about trying to prepare the kingdom for war, and there were almost no little boys in sight.

  Zac was wearing a heavily hooded jacket that was black in color and meant for the snow. His father had told him the previous night that he will need it for his journey. They were walking through the main town to his father’s friend’s house.

  “How am I going to travel?” Zac had asked his father. “The King’s guards are everywhere. How will I leave? I haven’t even said goodbye to my friends.”

  Zac cast a warring look at his son. “That’s if your friends are still alive.”

  Zac’s eyes widened. “James, Cathy and John.”

  “I need you to stay strong, son.”

  They turned out from the main street of the town that was crowded with people rushing everywhere, and they branched off to a small alley where a large mahogany door stood at the end of the path. When they reached it, Zac’s father knocked twice, lightly.

  In a matter of a second, the door opened eerily by itself, creaking loudly as it allowed flashes of light to invade the darkness within. A very thick, white smoke whiffed from the darkness and formed a cloud above the two visitors who stood motionlessly on the doorway.

  “It’s me, Dolores,” said Zac’s father, speaking up to the smoke.

  Zac watched in amazement as the smoke spiraled on top of their heads in a single, quick motion, then it wafted back into the house, with the visitors in tow.

  Zac immediately noticed the distinct coldness and darkness that engulfed them as soon as they entered the room. The door behind them shut all on its own.

  “Don’t be scared. Follow me,” Zac’s father’s voice came through the darkness.

  “I can’t even see,” Zac whispered back.

  He could hear silent whispers and the chilling hissing sounds of unknown sources. The house seemed to be very much alive even though Zac could barely see a thing.

  He could hear his father’s footsteps in front of him, and so he followed timidly, conscious that he might stumble into a piece of furniture.

  “What’s this place, Dad?” Zac whispered thinly.

  As soon as he said that, a bright light above them suddenly flashed on, and almost twenty other flashlights in different locations turned on, flooding illumination into the room like gushing water.

  Zac had to shield his eyes from the sudden light, and it was so frightening that he got knocked off his feet. He heard his father laughing in front of him.

  “What is this, Dad?” Zac asked, getting to his feet but still shielding his eyes from the bright light.

  “This is my friend Dolores’ home,” Zac’s father replied.

  Now that Zac’s eyes acclimatized to the sudden bright lights, he was able to see just exactly where they were, to his amazement.

  They were standing in the middle of a jungle—a jungle that did not seem to have any limits. They were standing on top of green grass—grass that was immaculate and well-manicured, and it stretched into a horizon where Zac could not ascertain the limits.

  There were trees and shrubs everywhere, and Zac noticed a small flock of sparrow-like birds flying from tree to tree. The hissing sound was that of crickets and other concealed animals that Zac could not see, and there was a whiff of mint in the air.

  Zac was completely unable to understand the sense of space in the place because he was still under the assumption that he was inside a house. After all, he had just walked through a front door.

  Zac was completely lost for words as he turned around on the spot and looked around him. His father remained silent for a while, observing his son’s reactions and snickering to himself. He was enjoying the sense of befuddlement that had suddenly overcome his son.

  “What the hell is this place?” Zac asked, for the first time lowering his hood all the way and noticing that there was no door behind them, just more jungle.

  His father snickered again.

  “I thought we were going to your friend’s house”, said Zac, trying to take in the strangeness of the place.

  “This is her house, alright,” replied Zac’s father.

  “We’ve never been taught this kind of magic in school, Dad,” said Zac. “How is this even possible?”

  “Dolores is a practitioner of the highest order of magic in the kingdom, son,” said Zac’s father. “Only the highest-level wizards in the kingdom can achieve this.”

  Zac was struggling to contain his amazement, watching in the distance as a group of antelopes appeared, walking side-by-side amongst one other and grazing on the beautiful grass.

  “This is amazing, Dad.”

  Zac’s father smiled.

  “So where is your friend?” Zac asked.

  “She’ll be along soon enough.”

  Zac scratched his head. “Where is Mom?”

  Zac’s father shrugged. “Beats me.”

  Zac was trying to think about any potential connection between his father and the friend he was about to see. Was this the reason Mom was not living with them?

  “How is your friend going to help?” Zac asked, suddenly wondering exactly how he would get out of the kingdom.

  The smile on Zac’s father’s face seemed to widen. “Be patient, my son—you’ll see.”

  Zac had a multitude of questions to ask, and just as he was about to shoot another at his dad, a large, trembling sound made him reconsider. Suddenly, the antelopes that were grazing peacefully and unperturbed in the distance started to run away.

  They soon disappeared out of sight.

  The trembling sound grew louder, and Zac could feel a distinct movement approaching them. The sparrow-like birds in the trees flew away, gradually disappearing from sight, too.

  “What’s that, Dad?” Zac asked. He was feeling panicky.

  Zac’s father did not answer. The smile had disappeared from his face, and a frown replaced it. He stood there, rooted to the spot, looking up into a very clear and blue sky.

  Zac followed his gaze, and just as he was looking up above, he felt a slimy, gripping rope grasp at his leg.


  But it was no rope.

  It was the largest snake Zac had ever seen, weaving its large body in a spiraling fashion around Zac’s legs like the smoke that had opened the door for them earlier.

  Chapter 3

  Zac screamed.

  So loud, in fact, it felt as though his lungs would shatter inside of him. The snake was a large green creature, with grey scales teaming its body and its large forked tongue lashing in and out between gigantic fangs.

  The snake had very yellow eyes, and its pupils had contracted into slits in the brightness of the surroundings.

  “Get it off me!” Zac screamed as the snake weaved itself right to his abdomen, and despite the fact he was clad in just jeans and a heavy jacket, he could feel the wetness of the creature on his body.

  The snake curled itself comprehensively around Zac, just stopping short of crushing the life out of him. Zac could almost no longer feel his ordinary bodily senses—and instead feeling the drumming of his heart dictate his nervousness.

  Then, the snake proceeded to do the oddest thing.

  It raised its head, high enough so its slit-eyes were in direct contact with the petrified Zac’s dark eyes. Then, in a soft but shrill voice, the snake asked its victim,

  “How are you?”

  For the first time since the snake attack, Zac managed to throw a glance at his father, noticing for the first time that the older man was watching in silent bemusement, struggling to contain a burst of laughter that seemed ready to come out any time.

  “What the hell?” Zac screamed, still in the clutches of the snake.

  “Don’t be rude,” said the snake. “You should respond when you are greeted.”

  “Get off me!” Zac was becoming hysterical.

  The snake seemed to sigh to itself—then, it started uncoiling itself from around Zac. The frightened boy stood there and watched as the snake transformed into a beautiful middle-aged woman in a haze of smoke and hissing sounds.

  “Dolores,” said Zac’s father, stepping forward to meet his host’s outstretched hand. “I thought we agreed that you'd stop greeting your guests like that.”

  Zac was still standing in the same spot, his eyes wide and his mouth agape but without words. He was sweating profusely despite the coolness of the jungle, and he could not seem to set his mind straight on what he had just seen.

  “A handsome young boy you have here, Jack,” said Dolores, eyeing Zac with a mischievous eye. “He has your eyes, you know.”

  “W-w-what are you?” stammered Zac. He could still feel the slimy scales of the snake convoluting up his leg.

  His father laughed out loudly. “This is my son—Zac.”

  Dolores now stepped forward, standing right in front of Zac and observing him from head to toe. She had a minty smell about her, yellow eyes just like the snake, and she wore a flowing drape-dress that was green in color.

  “Your father keeps telling me about you, youknow?” she said in that familiar shrill voice, and Zac was still motionless as she cast her eyes all around him.

  “Your father is cruel,” she said. “He should have told you what you were walking into.”

  Zac’s father was laughing.

  Dolores now seized a handful of Zac’s hair in her hand, yanking it and causing him some distress.

  “Ow,” shrieked Zac, “that was painful.”

  Dolores had a big smile on her lipstick-stained buck teeth. “My apologies, boy.”

  She let go of Zac, turned around, and started walking towards a big tree nearby.

  “Follow me, boys,” she said.

  Zac remained too rooted to his spot, and only a shove from his father could prompt him to walk towards the tree.

  There was a small opening on the base of a tree, no smaller than a mouse-hole. However, Dolores seemed to locate a miniature door which opened and seemed to suck her into the small abyss.

  Zac turned to look at his father, petrified.

  “Follow her,” Zac’s father said, that familiar big smile still plastered on his face.

  Zac turned to face the tree, and with his eyes closed, he walked forward until he felt a distinct change in the surrounding temperature. Upon opening his eyes, he was surprised to find himself in a small, cramped kitchen, no different from their own back at home.

  There was a large fireplace at the end of the room, and it was responsible for half the smoke that rent the air. The other half of the smoke came from a large cigarette set on an ashtray on a dining table in the middle of the room. The cigarette was larger than any that Zac had seen his father smoking, and it seemed to burn with a much thicker smoke.

  “Welcome to my humble home,” said Dolores, ushering her visitors to worn wooden seats on the far end of the wall that seemed to rely on the wall as part of their structure.

  Zac sat down slowly and nervously, watching his father the entire time, uncertain whether he was truly safe.

  “Zac,” said his father once he had taken a wobbly seat, “Dolores here is going to help you to travel out of the kingdom.”

  Zac’s skeptical stance was unchanged. However, he said nothing.

  “I’m going to help you get out of here for the time being, and I am the one who will return for you,” said Dolores, walking over to the fireplace where a large black pot was brewing a stew.

  “Your safety is paramount, son,” said Zac’s father.

  “We’re going to fly out of the kingdom at night where no one can see us,” said Dolores.

  “H-how?” asked Zac, speaking for the first time since meeting her, softly and inaudibly.

  “Come again,” said Dolores, pausing from stirring her stew for a moment.

  “You say we’ll fly. How?”

  Dolores had a large, toothy grin on her craggy face. “I’ll give you wings like a bird.”

  Chapter 4

  The mood in the room was despondent. Zac was more confused than ever, wondering what cryptic message his father’s friend was trying to communicate to him.

  “I don’t understand,” he said, for the first time feeling confident enough to address their host directly.

  “Like I told you,” Zac’s father chimed in, “Dolores is one of the highest order witches in the kingdom. You are safest in her hands.”

  Dolores turned her back on her hosts and continued stirring her stew in her pot. She spent the next five minutes focused on accomplishing this. She then grabbed a serving spoon by the kitchen sink, along with a wooden bowl, and proceeded to serve the stew that she was brewing. She was only serving one wooden plate.

  Zac and his father watched in silence as she went along with her responsibility, humming silently to herself and seemingly oblivious for a moment that she had company in the room.

  “Well,” she said, finally breaking the silence and walking over to Zac, “dinner is served.”

  She placed the steaming wooden plate before Zac, and it carried a black-grayish liquid substance that looked like porridge. Bubbles were frothing from the stew, even in the wooden plate, and it had the distinct smell of watered-down mint.

  “What is this?” Zac asked, staring down at his alleged meal. “Why am I eating it alone?”

  “I’ve prepared it, especially for you,” said Dolores. “And, oh, before I forget—”

  She fished for something on the side-pocket of her dress, revealing some strands of hair.

  “I plucked these off your head earlier.”

  She then stepped forward and placed the hairs into the wooden plate. Zac was watching in amazement.

  Suddenly, the plate started shimmering, and the porridge-like substance started to rise up and down the plate, the color changing rapidly, until it was deep red.

  “What the hell is that?” Zac asked.

  The plate stopped bobbing about, and a light steam started to rise from the plate.

  “This is your dinner; it will help us get out of the kingdom,” Dolores said.

  Zac looked down at the goo, mortified by its appearance, and then looked at hi
s father. He was nodding encouragingly, and so Zac gulped down his dinner in record time, seemingly holding his breath in the process.

  When Zac was done, he set his spoon down, panting as though he had run a marathon. His father and Dolores were watching him closely, as though waiting for a specific reaction.

  “I’m sorry Ma’am,” said Zac, finally, “but that was not particularly delicious.”

  Dolores let out a burst of shrill laughter. “Your security concerns me more than your satisfaction, little man.”

  The Kingdom of Atlantis was in a wreck, harboring all types of crimes and disorders one could conjure.

  The capital city, Poseidon, lay in ruins.

  The King had ordered all able-bodied men to fight for the survival of the kingdom, and this order had to be implemented by force. Most people were evicted from their homes, their properties stolen, and the cities were destroyed. The excuse that was given by the King to justify this action was that in the event the kingdom is overrun, the enemy will take over an area that has already been destroyed.

  Several people were fleeing the island by boat, but the King had eventually passed orders for this to stop. He needed as many subjects as possible on the island to offer support to the defense forces, both technically and morale-wise.

  The King was carrying out sacrificial practices and ensured that they remained clandestine, but the rumors that were circulating around the kingdom were most disturbing.

  In raids carried out by the king’s forces to abduct able-bodied men in the kingdom, teenage boys and younger boys were also being taken in. However, they were systematically disappearing because the defense forces of the kingdom mainly consisted of grown-up men.

  The rumors that the King was sacrificing the kingdom’s young boys were, at first, disregarded—however, the steady disappearance of a large number of boys, with several families reporting missing children, was a sign of concern for everybody.