A Regretful Blunder

It was a warm August afternoon as Sean Lanford sat feeling rather sad at the edge of the ravine that overlooked the Satakin River and its surrounding valley. It was nearly 2 years since his grandfather died, and he wondered if the hikers below – who all seemed to be having the time of their lives – still had their best friend to talk to when they got sad.

He pulled open his phone. 4:06 it read. Eight hours had passed at the shift Sean had just worked before coming to the ravine; and while he had not expected to see a plethora of notifications, he still shrunk at the fact that there was not even one.

He sighed, and opened up Facebook. It was a habit he had become accustomed to, an almost reflexive scrolling that never made him feel better. Jack Thompson had just got married in Ibiza. Ash Carrow just went to Cuba; and his old friend Nathan had just posted some pics of his barnyard ceremony.

Sean must have missed the invitation.

He laid back and tried to let the nimbus patterns in the sky distract him from everything that had been going on lately. Most of all he didn’t want to think of how crummy he’d been feeling, but that was hard to avoid. It wasn’t anything in particular that bothered him, just certain things that seemed to add up like a ledger keeping track of all his failures.

Earlier today, he’d given up his seat on a busy bus so an older woman could sit, and she’d only scowled at him in return; but he expected that – to be scowled at. He deserved that.

Sean tried to push the thoughts out of his mind. The clouds were nice; the way they drifted into shapes of animals or faces. One large one sort of looked like an elephant spraying water on its back, but then a small gust of wind blew the elephant away. It looked more like a telephone now, and that, reminded him of work.

Images of the performance board at work flashed through his mind – which he’d snuck a glance at before leaving – his name was right at the bottom. Not good at anything, he thought to himself.

Sean stood up, and looked towards the edge of the ravine and its trees below.

“And all I do is make things worse.” He said kicking a stone off the ledge.

“My Grandpa’s gone!” He said, sending another hurtling over twenty pines; the kick-up got dust all over his pants.

He brushed the dirt and steadied his breath, then went to grab his phone, which was a few paces back, but as he did a rock caught his shoe and rolled his foot, slamming his knee into the ground.

He yelled with pain.

He picked himself up, and looked furiously at the stone which stood at the ledge.

“Maybe it’d be better if I was just dead.” He said, running for the rock, attempting to kick it harder than he had any of the others, but as he did, he lost his footing and in one slow motion moment, dropped from the precarious perch.

***

From blackness emerged a new scenery. While Sean was still in a forest this one was much different than the last. For one the typical maple and pines had been replaced by expansive oaks, far larger than he had ever seen before. Towering overhead they created a roof of sorts that let in only leaf shaped patches of light here and there, but there wasn’t much light in this forest, and it all seemed to be in irregular hues of purple, turquoise, and pinks.

The ground beneath him feet felt crunchy and odd, and the distances he gazed out at seemed to loom and stretch away from him when he focused on them too long. Dizzy, he shook his head. How did I get here?

He was trying to clear his mind, but it wouldn’t settle. From under the large oak, he swore he could hear giggles in the distance – in the dark deep distance of the now endless, twisting forest.

Suddenly, he felt parched, and his head was hurting something awful. He looked around, trying to find a source of water to sooth his dry throat, but it was difficult to focus on anything for too long; it only made his head ache and his dizziness worse. But on the edge of something - something in his mind - he thought he could smell it. Smell water? He thought. But he could. Indeed, he could – a ripe cherry blossom pink smell is what it was.

Sean stuck his nose in the air, and sniffed around blithely. When he thought he had it locked in, it transformed – it became something else altogether, or at least, something else all at the same time; it changed into a pink ribbon which floated in the forest air and trailed towards the direction of the water.

He emerged at a large pond with a climbing rockface at its left side; the pink ribbon coalesced over the water's unfettered surface like a blanket. The smell intoxicated him.

It made him want to drink. Made him want to give in. He leaned down on two knees, and cupped his hands together about to reach for some of the silvery liquid before he heard a voice from behind him.

“Drink from the Deadman's glass, and it shall be your last.”

Spinning Sean looked in all directions to see where the voice had come from, but could see no one. A giggle emanated from the forest wall behind him, and some of the bushes rustled as if someone had darted back behind one of the towering oaks.

“Who’s there?” He called out.

“The Deadman! The Deadman!” A small, high pitch voice giggled, before another came – distinct from the first.

“He’ll watch you slumber, what a bummer!”

The two voices giggled in unison now.

Sean approached the forest edge trying to find who was there. The grass that lined the wall of the forest was tall enough for someone or something to hide in. He pushed aside a section, and then another, and then another. It started to feel like a game with all the jovial giggling going on.

Finally, after pushing aside a rather thick section of grass, two small impish creatures rolled out from their cover, squealing gleefully as they did; cartwheeling, dancing, and tumbling back onto the sand which was at the opening of the pond.

Sean turned to look at their faces which smiled from pointed ear to pointed ear; one purple and one pink.

“And who might you be?”

The two imps brightened as if they might burst and began to dance, interlocking their arms and skipping in circles.

Pippin and Lomp.

We guard the swamp

Ever so strong, ever so bold

We know stories never told

Ever high and ever low,

We guard where the Deadman go

The two creatures finished in dazzling fashion, giving him a celebratory bow. Big sparkly eyes met his gaze, before they broke away, and began to play trumpets which had just materialized out of thin air.

“I don’t understand. Who are you?”

A voice that seemed to carry, rang poignantly from the side of the pond near the face of the rock wall.

“They are guardians. Guarders of the water from which you nearly drank.”

Sean spun again; this time to see a woman in grand attire – made up in fine garments, and on her head, sat a rather large hat which was fashioned into the shape of an owl.

“Oh no!” Pippin exclaimed, covering his eyes. Lomp had ducked behind a nearby cattail, though it didn’t provide much cover.

“We swear! We didn’t talk to the... the...” Lomp pulled two brown eyes from behind the reed “...what is it that you are exactly?”

Sean didn’t know what to say.

“I’m a human, of course.”

Pippin and Lomp both bounced up and down.

“A human!” They cheered. “We’ve never seen a human before!”

In the distance a crack echoed over the pond. Sean could see the rockface at its perimeter move uneasily, and rocks tumbled down its steep angle.

The woman had now appeared beside Sean and the imps. He did not see her walk, but somehow, she was just there.

“A human?” She asked seriously.

Sean nodded.

“I am Renoara, The Wise Woman – bridge between the two worlds. The human world, and The Nethers.”

“The Nethers?”

“Yes, the gap between life and death lives a realm and it is called the Nethers, where you are here and now, and if you are here.” She placed one white gloved hand to her mouth. “A grand injustice must have taken place.”

Sean shook his hands and scratched at the back of his head.

“Tell me...”

“Sean.” Sean added.

“Sean.” She smiled. “What exactly happened before you arrived to The Nethers.”

“Well I... ah... I was kicking rocks.”

“He was kicking rocks!” Pipping and Lomp repeated merrily. The Wise Woman shushed them to allow Sean to proceed.

“And I was at a ravine...”

“At a ravine!” chimed the imps.

“And I might have gotten too close to the edge. I was being a bit daring I suppose you could say, and then after that I don’t remember anything, except that I might have fallen down, and then after I don’t remember anything much. But I woke up here and was very thirsty.”

“Thirsty?” Her face grimaced. “No. One must never drink from the wake. Were you feeling any particularly strong emotions before you arrived?”

“Well yes.” Sean admitted. “I was feeling rather upset. It was my birthday and nobody called me.”

“Ah ha! That must be it. Whatever emotion a human is feeling will bring itself into the Nethers should they arrive, should they be lucky enough to arrive here instead of well...” She motioned to the pond. “Well instead of right into the Deadman’s glass. But unfortunately, I fear something terrible has been released –”

The earth shook again as boulders split in two and tumbled down the rocky perimeter.

"What is that?"

“That.” said a deep voice which projected from the side of the pond. “Is the veil between our worlds breaking."

The four of them turned to look at an old man walking over from near the rockface. He was dressed in a brown tunic with a white belt. His face was weathered and wrinkled beyond the years of any man Sean had ever seen. In the place where his cheeks should have been, there was only sinewy threads connecting his upper and lower jaw.

The man was now close enough to them that he didn’t have to project his voice so loudly.

“I am the Deadman. I am Anthor. Please to meet your acquaintance. Now, if you wouldn’t mind getting in the pond that would be greatly appreciated. If a human is here that means that the division between the two worlds is breaking, and the only way to put it right is if he drinks from the water– something he was about to before you two...” Anthor shook his fists at the cowering imps.

“Hello Anthor.” Renora said placidly. “Yes, I am aware. I am the Veil between them if you’ll recall. Also, if you’ll recall, the Law of the Nethers states that if a human ever comes to The Nethers they also have a chance to set things right themselves first, without ever going in the glass.”

The Deadman grumbled, looking as if he’d hoped Renora had forgotten that part.

“It’d be faster if he just got in the glass!”

“Yes well, as keeper of the laws in the Nethers. Sean will have his chance.” Renora stood up a shade taller.

“Fine! Have it your way.” he growled. “But he’ll have to defeat Kitty then.” The nonexistent lips curved into a sickly grin.

“Oh no!” Pippin covered his eyes, and Lomp conjured a soldier’s hat, dropping to his knees, just to take it off and look up to the sky despondently.

“Anything but Kitty!” They cried.

Sean was rather perplexed.

“Kitty? What’s Kitty?”

The Wise Woman shifted uncomfortably.

“Well... Kitty is... How would I describe Kitty... She’s well. She’s a fire breathing dragon.”

“What!”

“Oh, but not to worry dear. She’s nice for the most part except for when, well she’s hungry, or when, well when she gets out of her cage.”

“Which is exactly what’s happened now...” said Anthor. “...since this human has arrived and put the delicate balance of the worlds at risk.” The Deadman looked at Sean. “You’ll have to kill the beast in order to put things right.”

“Kill it?! You expect me to kill a fire breathing dragon?”

“Oh, fret not!” said the Wise Woman. “Once you’ve slain the dragon you’ll be back to the human world and all will be as it was, and the dragon will be safe and sound, back in its cage.”

"Oh, well that’s a relief! And if I’m not able to slay the dragon?”

“You’ll be torn limb from limb and the entire fabric of our universe will disintegrate in front of our very eyes.” She replied simply, tapping a white gloved finger on her chin and gazing somewhere off in the distance. “Of course.” she said looking back towards the four of them. “We’ll have to find you something to it fight with. Whatever it may be – what does one fight a dragon, I don’t know – but no matter, I know exactly where to find it. To the Tower of Time!”

She yelled and then Pippin and Lomp echoed her words in usual fashion, following in tow as she made her way back up the hill and through the bushes that separated the pond from the forest.

Sean blinked, trying to take it all in.

“Hey, wait up!”

Behind them the Deadman grimaced.

“What is the Tower of Time?” Sean asked when he finally caught up to Renora and the imps.

“Well, if you need to ask, then you might never know. The Tower of Time is where all things go.” Lomp said, picking a booger from his nose.

“Lomp is right. The Tower of Time possesses all things that are, and all things that have ever been. Well, I might even go so far as to say as it possesses all things that will ever be also! It will give you what you need to defeat Kitty.”

Sean gulped. He still didn’t know how much he liked the idea of fighting a fire breathing dragon, even if its name was Kitty.

The four of them continued deeper into the forest until they emerged at a wooden door. Renora placed one white glove on it and turned the handle.

“This way.” She smiled, pushing open the door.

On the other side of the door was a great open expanse with blue skies and clouds both up and down. A strong breeze lifted Sean’s hair and nearly made Renora lose her owl shaped hat; and around them in all directions was a wall of trees, their branches so thick and interweaved no images of the forest behind was let through. The four of them stepped onto a rocky ledge that was encircling the expanse’s perimeter. In front of them was a drop that seemed to stretch on forever.

“Mind your step.” said Renora. “There’s no bottom to the room of time.”

Sean however had been too focused on the large tower in the center of the room to even notice. It stretched from an unseen ground up to an apex which, as far as Sean could tell, was either hidden by clouds or went on endlessly.

“Does it ever end?” He asked.

“Does time ever end?” She said raising an eyebrow at him.

“And are those...”

“Clocks!” answered the imps. The two of them had now conjured flower garlands on their heads and began dancing in circles singing.

“Would you two please quit it, you’re going to fall off the edge!” chided Renora.

The walls of the tower were covered by every type of clock imaginable; grandfathers, hourglasses, cuckoos chirping with intricate birds, all ticking off kilter to the next.

In the center of the room, over the bridge, was a platform with a hanging cord capped with a steel ring. Sean looked up, and the cord, similar to the tower, seemed to stretch on forever.

“Well, what now?”

The Wise woman grabbed the beaded cord, which Pippin and Lomp had now been sitting in like it was a swing.

“Well, we just grab the cord...” She ushered Sean over, placing his hand on the ring.

“And then?” asked Sean.

Renora laughed.

“Pull!” she exclaimed as she pulled the cord, slingshotting them into the air.

Sean felt his stomach lurch as they bulleted skywards so fast that the wall of clocks merged into one solid blur.

They came to a bolting stop at an arched doorway and jumped off landing on a ledge outside a doorway into the tower.

“Okay.” Renora took a deep breath. “No time like the present. Follow me.”

Beyond was a grand hall with marbled floors flanked on either side by a collection of displays; there were sixteenth century dresses in wood-based glass containers, swords and breastplates, banners throughout time.

Down the middle, at the end, was a large crystal ball held by an ebony cradle, and sat beside it, was a man with a beard to his knees pondering carefully at its contents.

The old man with silver-worked robes stood up to greet them.

“Ticking time bombs. Is it that time already Renora?” He asked, waving a hand over the ball which flicked from its previous depiction of knights on a battlefield to that of a scarlet cloudiness.

“I am afraid so. The Nethers is breaking at the seams.”

“Yes, yes” The old man said stroking his long beard. “And this is... you must be Sean!”

Sean’s eyes widened. “You know my name?”

“Well, of course I do! I’m Angus - father time. I see all things in the crystal.” He gave the ball a wave and the scarlet clouds spun themselves into an image of a baby boy, being held by a joyous mother and father in a hospital room.

“I’ve known you since you were a baby. You gave your mother a right scare with that tricycle incident. Of course, you might not remember that.” The man scratched his beard. “...seeing as how you were three and all. Ah, it all feels like yesterday to me. Just a moment ago I was watching the Battle of Hastings. You know the thing they always get wrong about The Battle of Hastings...”

The father time shook his finger, but Renora him a communicative look.

“Right! The time. We haven’t much of it. We don’t want the fabric of space disintegrating in front of our very eyes and all that.”

Sean gulped.

The man walked towards him, placing a consolatory hand on his shoulder. “You, my boy, have not had a good few months, have you?”

Sean opened his mouth to answer.

“I... well, it’s been... hard...”

“Agh, no need to feel uncomfortable my son. Of course, it’s been hard! Life is hard! You’ve fallen into the grips of it; the hardship that seems to never end. But you know my boy?” Angus said, locking his starburst eyes onto Sean's.

“It’s the hardship that gives it meaning. The hardship that makes the blessings worthwhile. There is no life without misery, no happiness without pain... but you must never let it consume you. Not for one second.”

Sean now felt keenly aware of the twitching beginning in his chin.

“No worries!” Said the Father of Time, spinning and going to a cabinet. “I have something for you laddie.”

“This.” He said, returning with the most intricately inlaid silver breastplate Sean had ever seen. “Is the Armor of Acceptance. It allows you to accept the things you cannot change. And my boy, I know there has been something as of late you cannot change... the death of your grandfather, but from death comes memory. All things must end, in a time. But it’s how we remember them that counts.”

Sean grabbed the breastplate, and thanked the father.

“I have another.” He said, spinning and attending to another cabinet. He returned.

“The Shield of Memory.” He said handing Sean the golden worked brass shield which glimmered in the light from the outside window. “To protect you in the times when life gets too tough. To remember the good times, because there will always be more!”

The Father of Time turned once again, this time not to a cabinet but to the wall where a large sword was hung. He returned.

“And lastly, The Sword of Truth. To cut through the lies of deception that we sometimes believe. That we’re not good enough. That all we do is make things worse.”

A sound cracked through the air, and the tower shook as it did.

“I fear we have to go Father.” said Renora, making her way to the door.

"You haven’t the time to return the way you came!” The old man walked to the back wall of the room where a door sat. “Take my portal. It will take you right there. Back to the pond in the forest.”

The four of them looked perplexed at him. Angus opened the door.

“Well, clicking clocks, you must go!” He said motioning them towards the door.

The two imps leapt through the magenta portal. Then Renora made her way to the door, followed by Sean.

“Sean.” said the father. “Remember what I said. Focus on your strengths, and your memories, and the good of it all and you will have no problem facing the dragon.”

“Thank you.”

“Alright, now time for you to go through. You’ll do well my boy. Don’t worry.”

Renora and Sean said their last goodbyes and stepped through the portal. On the other side was the pond in the forest. The Deadman was still there, holding out a rather large T-bone steak.

“Here kitty kitty.” he said waving the steak up in the air. He turned to look at the four of them, seeming to have just materialized out of thin air. “Oh, good you’re here.”

Renora turned to Sean.

“Quickly, put on the breast plate and ready yourself. The dragon will be here soon.”

Sean hastened himself, slipping the breastplate over his head, and trying to push the butterflies that were now fluttering rapidly in his stomach out of his mind, but before he could Kitty emerged from the skies over the pond flapping gigantic bat like wings, sending dust from the beach of the pond in every direction.

It screeched as it landed, digging knife-like talons into the sand, and craning its scaled neck to snatch the steak The Deadman had thrown there.

The Wise Woman gave an intense look at Sean, placing two gloved hands on both shoulders.

“Remember what the Father of Time said. You can do this.”

Sean nodded his head hastily; there was a courage growing in him. It had started as an inkling but it was like rocket fuel was being poured all over it. He stepped towards the dragon, which had now looked at him eyeing him like he might make a fine dinner.

It screeched an ear-piercing cry. Then in one swift jerk, opened its mouth and blew jet engine fire in his direction. Sean pushed the shield in front of him, protecting him from the torrent of flames

He could feel the shield heating up, heating his hands. But he kept focus on what The Father had said and advanced towards the dragon.

“I am no longer lost!” The torrent of flame was pushing him back with tremendous force but he took a step forward anyways.

“And people do love me!” He said taking another step.

For a split-second Sean was no longer Sean; he was a toddler, his inner child. The shield of Memory had fallen but the armor of acceptance now protected him.

In the same split second that made him a toddler, he was his old self again.

“AND I AM NOT WORTHLESS!”

He charged the Dragon, piercing it through the heart, through the iron hard scales that lined its skin, with the Sword of Truth.

Everything faded to black

***

Sean woke up to a white ceiling and blue walls. The IV in his arm itched something awful, he would have scratched it but he was too distracted by all the flowers that lined the balcony window with large plastic pop out words saying things like Get Well Soon, and Wishing you Well.

On the far wall sat his mom and dad, his friend Eric, and his grandmother – who looked up from their intertwining thumbs with bright beaming smiles.

“You’re awake!”