Lucius's World Read online

  “The entity is gone… that part of the prophecy has come true, but maybe there is more to it...” replied Thea.

  At that moment, I knew, what had to be done and I said: “I must find the key and then we can finally bring an end to all this.”

  “Restore order in one world, to save the other,” quoted my grandpa.

  “There is a ship being deployed to Calais Port, France, to drop off some recruits. I will join them.”

  My grandfather was concerned for obvious reasons, worried at the prospect of me being court-marshalled for disobeying direct orders, to return to Scotland, Scapa Flow, but this was too important. I also realised to make progress, I would need to make my own way and reluctantly, abandon my new company. Death would have certainly been a punishment for desertion.

  “When do you go, Lucius?” asked Thea.

  “Soon...”

  My ship was in Portsmouth and would leave the next day, early morning, so my time at the manor was very limited.

  Chapter Two - Shadow on the Ship

  It was early morning when I’d left for Portsmouth with Thea and Grandfather. I said my goodbyes to the Eve animals and made the promise of retrieving the key from France. I couldn't say what to expect in my travels and felt more nervous about disappointing my friends. Bjorn was the last animal I had spoken to and he listened with an intense stare or maybe he imagined me like a plate of raw meat. We were cautious around the big bear, we had to be, encase the grip of nature tightened its hold and completely wipe out Ullpli's remaining magic. We didn't know if there was a time limit or whether the animals would fully change into their natural state; without the Green Man's guidance, we were in the dark.

  It had taken us half the day, to reach the Portsmouth dockyard by Grandpa's new Automobile. He had purchased his car from the Ford company in Detroit, Michigan, and the shipping alone cost him a hefty sum. It was his new love in life after the garden was destroyed; I suppose he needed something to keep himself occupied. The Ford Model T was a beautiful black car and its popularity was increasing before the war, but most businesses were struggling with the repercussions of warfare.

  I drove his car for the first time that morning, I couldn't decide whether it was a typical act of kindness by Egbert or he realised, it could have been my last chance.

  Before we entered the docks, I paid a visit to an old Navy friend, Sgt. Wilks, who had an exceptional talent for the creation of fake documents, which were recognised by our British intelligence. I asked him for a favour to forge new orders. Hopefully, they’d grant me an easy excess into France. I couldn't tell him the real reason because one would think I was mad; so, my story of desperation, to join our country in battle was enough to convince him otherwise. Besides, he owed me a favour for keeping his secret. I caught Wilks sleeping on the job. It was a high offence in the Navy and a one-way ticket to court.

  With our detour done, I abruptly stopped at the Royal Navy Department, where I handed in my new forged documents, which in theory, would allow me entry to Calais Port. Wilks changed my surname to Lt. Lucius Wild; my mother's maiden name, and that I was ordered to join the supply arms and reinforcements to Normandy. He kept my position as Lieutenant. Luckily, my title proved to be handy in future situations.

  My orders were stamped with approval and I had to say my goodbyes to Grandpa and Thea. My grandfather handed me William Frankfurt's journal and said: “Take this with you. I think you will have better luck, deciphering it on your travels, than in our library.”

  I hugged him and promised I’d return; although, I felt just as anxious as the passing troops who wore mixed emotions on their sleeves.

  I looked around at the families, who were reluctant to let their loved ones go, and I could certainly relate.

  Thea gave me a tight squeeze and my temperature rose, causing the blood in my cheeks to go red; she smiled, and we kissed for the first time.

  At that moment, I knew my obligation was to retrieve the key, so they could go home; but deep down, I couldn't be sure whether I'd be able to let her go.

  There was the ship’s siren in the distance, signalling for an inevitable departure. I left my loved ones and jogged towards my ship. It wasn't the largest boat, but to my knowledge, the Q-boat played an important part in destroying German subs; the one I entered was ordered to join forces in the Mediterranean Sea, once it made the rendezvous in Calais, France.

  We set off at night to avoid any detection, many submarines were being used to attack supply boats, but luckily the Q-boat was invented to combat against enemy subs.

  The stars were out, and I was on deck gazing up at the bright moon, which sparked a memory of the Divided High Grounds. I always felt I could have done better in saving King Eirik on the mount; I wondered about Ullpli. Someone with his power couldn't have disappeared without a trace, maybe he still lingered in the shadows of Eve or found a lasting light in the darkness, to hold onto. It would have explained the animal’s resilience in changing into their natural state...

  I pulled out the journal from my coat and opened a map, I’d borrowed from Wilks. I had hand-drawn and copied the ley-lines from the journal's map and discovered, it went through six locations. Calais was the first, then Aizecourt, Anizy, Olizy, Aizenville, and the last, Alaise.

  I hadn't heard of any of these towns and wondered about their significance; I still couldn't read the text and had asked around my comrades to see if anyone could speak Latin. There was one man called Abraham Halls who managed to reveal a bit about William Frankfurt. His Latin was rusty, but he recited some of the text, from the first page: “He was a Priest for the Church of England, who travelled on a pilgrimage path to find the myth, the Holy Grail. He mentions a Chateau, Castle Creminil; east of Estrée-Blanche, a village in the Pas-de-Calais department.”

  I couldn't say or reveal much to the corporal, but I thanked him for his service and discretion on the matter. I wanted to keep any detail about my mission under wraps, besides, who would have believed in the tale?

  William Frankfurt seemed like an unusual priest, the context in his journal caused me to think, he must have travelled all over the world to collect such information for the ley-lines; did he find the key? And could the Grail be in Eve? At least I had a destination; Chateau Creminil.

  I was told it would take under six hours to arrive in Calais port, so my nightly shift gave me the time to relax and try to calm my mind. The route was straight forward, but to avoid the military would be hard; I suppose an escape is to be expected from some of the troops. War can corrupt even the finest.

  Four hours in counting and I could already see parts of Normandy in a blaze; there was a raid a couple of hours ago. The German’s had targeted our supplies, but we managed to bring down their bombers.

  The light from the horizon cast shapes across my boat and I watched the shadows form, like the clouds in the sky. There was nothing unusual about it, just my boredom succumbing to the long and slow journey.

  I studied William's journal again and found drawn pictures of a forest surrounded by snow. He was a very good artist, especially the colours he used for a hare who resembled a small Flit; there was a deer, and a bear. Strange, I thought...

  Amongst the quietness of the sea, I was disturbed by a cry, which came from the starboard bow.

  It was quick, loud, and then soft.

  I went to investigate and found a rifle on the floor. I picked it up and examined the area, but there was no sign of the owner. My shadow seemed to be dancing across the floor; I felt like Peter Pan. It stopped directly in front of me and two red eyes appeared.

  I gasped and spoke my mind, “Dante?!”

  “No,” said the shadow and a strange creature submerged from out of its plain.

  It looked feral and wild; reminded me of a large bat. It displayed its fangs and encroached my space.

  “You were in the woods when I visited with Thea?” I said, knowing it wasn't a trick of the mind.

  It stared and said nothing; only glared at my
throat, like I was a piece of meat. Its gaze diverted to the leather-bound book that I held in my hands and it licked its black furry lips. I wasn't the only one interested in the key…

  It moved fast and went straight for me. It was quick and I would’ve perished right on the spot if it wasn't for a patrolling soldier, who’d used his torch to see the commotion. He didn't see the intruder, just witnessed me squirm in the dark; the strange being instantly dispersed, when the artificial light touched its skin.

  “Are you okay sir? I heard a scream coming from this direction...”

  “I did too,” I confirmed.

  We both heard a cry for help overboard and we looked down to see a soldier hanging onto a bit of rope. We quickly hoisted him back up and he thanked us.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “I'm not sure? I was looking out to the sea until I felt this strange sensation from behind me. Next thing I knew; I was going overboard...”

  “Do you think someone pushed you?” I quizzed, knowing full well who had done this but couldn't afford an investigation.

  “No, I didn't feel anything. Maybe I'm tired; I just don't know.”

  I commanded the Corporal to escort the Soldier to the med bay to get assessed and then, an hour sleep before our arrival in France, and hoped nothing would come out of the situation. Luckily the morning sun was coming up. The red pupils that lurked under the stairwell disappeared.

  The incident had shaken me, it was unexpected, and I wondered where this creature had come from...

  I’d concluded, the animals weren't the only ones who had left Eve; somehow, a servant of Maylok had passed through.

  I had to shake off the negative vibes and get my mindset right because we came into Calais Port to set the anchor. I retrieved my survival gear and met up with the other officers, who barked out instructions, on where the supplies should be deposited, and which regiments needed re-enforcements.

  I heard reports that Reims was completely overrun by the enemy and it seemed we were in dire need of soldiers.

  We were selected to join certain companies from the western front, who’d just returned from the fight in the heart of France. I felt guilty at the time, knowing I would have to make my own way. I couldn't drag another man’s life into my conquest. It seemed the mission had gained a deeper meaning since my run-in with the shadow. I thought the key must have held some significance in the secret war between realms; light and dark, the battle between good and evil, which unfortunately existed in both worlds. Where there is Light, there is always Darkness.

  If this minion of the dark was free to roam the world, then there was a possibility of other Maylok creatures being free. I couldn't understand how they've escaped, especially since I vanquished Dante... or so I thought.

  I managed to sneak away from the military undetected and found myself wandering up a street called Boulevard international. Trams were travelling up and down the long road. I came across a monument of a man who was bent over with some sort of fishing line in his hand.

  This side of Calais was a bit scarce and the remaining public stared at my uniform; they must have wondered why a Lieutenant was walking the streets by himself. I suddenly thought it would’ve been best to change clothes. Walking around in an Officers uniform is just like having a target on your back; perfect for German snipers.

  I found a little clothing shop and bought some simple clothes; travelling attire. I had to change anything that screamed British, including my military boots. The only thing I kept was my knife and a sidearm; I had to look completely incognito.

  I bought a new rucksack, with some jeans, a shirt, a nice thick woollen coat, and a black flat cap. Hopefully, the idea was to fool the enemy into thinking I was just a simple farmer. I kept my rations of corned beef, bread, and my flask of water, carefully organised in my new bag.

  With my plan in motion, I set off to find the Castle Creminil and with the notion of its importance.

  Chapter Three - Chateau Creminil

  I managed to get a lift from an elderly gentleman who spoke a bit of English, which was enough in our exchange. He drove a white Luxior, a new French manufacturer of automobiles. My grandfather would have appreciated its design. It had a wooden roof and very refined bodywork. There were no dints or scratches. The automobile looked to have been well kept by the gentlemen. The only damage I could see was the split in the front window. He said it was caused by a shrapnel bomb. I must say, you wouldn't have thought the car belonged to the man, it was certainly in better condition than him.

  The man's name was Pascoe Sagnol, a simple shop owner who had evacuated his home in Brussels, Belgium. He crossed into France last year and had lived around Paris but came up north due to the enemy's failed attempt to take the capital.

  I gave him some money for the help, although he declined at first, I insisted; anything to help out those in need and so, we headed east to the village, Estrée-Blanche.

  The journey was long, and it gave me the chance to observe the French countryside; it almost had a Cornish feel. There were fields in every direction and the land was flat, but the colour made up for some of the dullness.

  Midday came and the sun was in full force. The rain from the previous night had dried; only puddles remained between the cracks in the roads.

  There were signs of military movement everywhere. The mud was spewed up on the side of the road, and there were large tire tracks, which cemented the crushed stones into the earth. It was a sign of tanks, but from whose side? I couldn't be sure and hoped it was friendlies.

  Pascoe had warned me German troops were heading further east, most likely to attempt sabotage on the supply runs.

  Unfortunately, our nice day of avoidance had come to an end as we came to a village called Therouanne. The east entrance had been partially blocked and there seemed to be evidence of a recent skirmish.

  We passed the blockade and slowly headed into the town centre. Curtains were drawn, and the fabric twitched every time we passed by a house. I was beyond nervous, especially when I'd noticed the bullet holes in the walls of a bakery.

  There were pools of dried blood on the cobbled narrow road and an occasional body of an innocent bystander.

  Pascoe kept repeating himself, “Mon dieu... mon dieu.” He shivered after every word...

  Up ahead was another blockade, this time with soldiers hiding behind, luckily, they were American. I remember them screaming for us to get down and I wished we listened - because Pascoe would’ve survived…

  His body laid limp in the driver’s seat and his blood-stained my clothing.

  The car kept moving from his heavy foot that clamped down on the accelerator and we crashed into a house. The Luxior was destroyed and I was dragged out of the passenger’s seat and into the building by two soldiers.

  “You okay, bud? Erm - Est-ce que tu vas bien?” he asked.

  “I'm English... and yes, I'm fine, but is Pascoe?” I replied, knowing full well, the old man was gone.

  “He was shot. There is a German sniper up the road; we've pushed them back and they've left us a gift in return.”

  “So, it's just one man?”

  “Looks like it. Where's your uniform? You have to be military, can't say anyone would want a holiday at this time or place.”

  I had to think fast and have a reason for heading for Chateau Creminil. “I'm a Lieutenant for the British intelligence, can't really say why I'm here; except I need to pass through.”

  “Classified, ey? I don't know why allies have secrets, but it’s not my place to ask. I'm Sargent Millar and this egg-head is Kowalski.”

  His young comrade nodded my way; he looked too young for such a war, probably just turned sixteen and lied about his age to enter the military.

  Reckless, I thought, but during this time-period, everybody wanted to help in some way.

  The sergeant reminded me of my mathematics teacher, very clean, and maintained; tall like a centipede.

  “We have a few boys up ahead. I thi
nk they can keep the Kraut occupied, whilst we outflank him. This place should have a back door,” said Miller.

  Indeed, it did, and we sneaked through the back and up to a narrow alley. We kept our heads low for any surprises and I tried my hardest to erase the mental picture of leaving Pascoe; we didn't have a choice. Although he was a stranger, I’d felt responsible for his passing. It was his life because of a key. I had to remind myself of the importance of its retrieval and the interest of the shadow, who I'm sure, was nearby. I had a theory about the minion of the dark; it reacted to light and I guessed it would return, once the sun had settled, which was soon.

  We came up to an alley. It veered off to our right and carried on up the backstreets. We could see the remaining US soldiers ducking for cover behind some cars. Millar signalled our intentions and they understood and responded with fire. We took the chance and ventured further up the narrow alleyway. We could hear a single shot from a sniper rifle, it sounded close, but the wind can deceive the enemy’s location; he was much further away than we realised.

  Kowalski peered around the wall and pinpointed the marksman, who hid inside a rather extravagant building on the corner.

  “He's high up, sir. Top left window,” reported the young lad.

  There was a street that separated us from the German and a blind spot, it was a good opportunity to counter. We needed a round of cover fire directed at the top left window, so we could move without being detected. Millar radioed his company and we waited until their retaliation. The window was lit up from gunfire and we ran across the street and into a clothes shop. We were in the marksmen blind spot and luckily moved like ghosts.

  We exited the building through the smashed shop corner window and carefully made our way around the side of the enemy’s nest. Kowalski went first, then me, and Miller, who guarded our rear.

  There was an assault rifle left on top of a deceased Jerry. I retrieved and inspected its ammunition; it was half-full.