New To Gibberish? Check out this Navigation Page!
HAPPY SUBTEMBER! Click Here for 50% off a paid subscription to Gibberish!
Or click HERE to read more about how you can help support Gibberish!
SYNOPSIS: The ambitious monk Manheim and the callow novice Julian are unlikely traveling companions. Both would consider the circumstances surrounding their journey mere bad luck—yet, one way or another, they have been charged with a single, important mission: Find the Blackpage!
Twenty years after Manheim’s rival monk, Byron—now called The Blackpage—was exiled from the Order of Authors, this adventuring party will face dangers in the mysterious wilds of Daranna. Yet, all agree that nothing they could encounter is more dangerous than the man they hope to find…
INDEX | Chapter 1 | <Previous (Chapter 10) | Next (Chapter 12)>
The Way Back
If Julian slept, he didn’t know it. Between the rocky surface under his bedroll, the winter chill, or the unsettling presence of the Blackpage—his mind tossed as much as he did through the night.
When the subtle shift in light outside the cave made it clear dawn had snuck into camp, Julian got up and tiptoed past his sleepy companions, to watch the sunrise from the entrance to the cave. The sky was a dim overcast blue, intensifying rather than brightening, like eyes opening and adjusting.
“You there.”
Julian jumped out of his skin, and whirled around. It was the Blackpage, crouching on the rockface above the entrance to the cave. “Me?” was all Julian could muster.
“You. Why have you come. Your companions sleep—tell me truly,” he growled.
Julian climbed the side of the cave wall towards where Byron was sitting. “I told you. Abbot Targand regretted exiling you. He recognized, in the end, that you had a lot to offer the Order.”
“Abbot, was he? Old fool.”
“Why won’t you come back with us?”
“There’s no need. Nothing to be learned back there, always under someone’s thumb.”
“You could pass on what you have learned—”
“Learned through hardship! Let hardship be the teacher to others.”
“What good is being the best Author to ever live doing you here?” Julian threw a pebble off the cave
Byron was quiet a long while at that. Henri stepped lazily out of the cave entrance, holding himself for warmth. “Julian?” He called, as if Julian had wandered far away.
Julian said, “Hey, Henri,”—Henri jumped the way he had. Julian smiled and tossed a pebble.
“Hey—HEY!” Henri said, noticing Byron. “Everything okay?”
Julian gave Byron a chance to answer first, and he didn’t, so he said “Yeah, I guess.”
Varus set about preparing a hearty breakfast over a cookfire. When Julian came down from his eyrie above the cave, he was surprised to see how well provisioned Varus was. Varus caught his eyes and said, “Prepared for a long journey, pleased it was a short one. Figured we can at least treat Byron to a good meal before we leave—small recompense if he won’t accept reconciliation.”
Julian looked over at Henri, who was staring into the fire—or the pan—intently. “You going to be alright, Henri?”
“Yeah—funny, I feel I’m being spoiled by leaving the monastery.”
“The Monastery is better provisioned than me—scarcity aids discipline. You’re still novices, remember. Don’t be too easy,” Varus admonished.
Byron clambered down and walked in behind them as they spoke, taking a seat around the fire to watch Varus cook. Everyone was silent
Varus, stirring eggs in the pan, turned to him at length and said, “Byron, may I ask you a question? You’ve made your position understood, and I won’t fight you on it—you won’t come back with us. But, as you recall, I was involved in investigating your book. We never found the Beast all those years ago. Yet on the way here, undeniably we were confronted by it. What is it?”
Manheim had woken and sat by the fire by this point, and he and Byron exchanged some manner of look, which Julian interpreted as unmistakably angry. Byron replied, “As best as I can tell—writing these books is pouring a bit of ourselves into the world. Different parts for each of us, perhaps—but nevertheless a part of us must be what animates and gives life to our books. Remember, Brother Manheim, those early books when we were novices together in the monastery? The first worlds we made? How crude they were, how simple.” He sighed, and the faintest ghost of a smile formed briefly before fading away.
“Mine had a single tree on a flat, endless plain. The more I studied, the more my worlds came to life. The more life, perhaps, the more Life. As I said before—the beast was made with the book. You inspected my pages, nowhere is the beast written, and yet it lives.”
Manheim scoffed. “You expect us to believe that? What makes you special? Why doesn’t anything live in my worlds?”
“Maybe,” Byron said coolly, “your skills as an author do not rise to your own reputation.”
Manheim was on his feet in an instant. “How dare you! You blasphemous fool, you murderer—”
Byron tensed up when Manheim stood, but he roared to his feet at the word ‘murderer’, “YOU LISTEN HERE, MANHEIM,” Byron bellowed, his words echoing through the cave. “I did not kill Amos. I did not hate you. YOU, however, burned my book. You chased me away. YOU tried to kill ME. You saw the Beast as much as Varus did—it’s absence always your sword, Amos’ death always your shield. Ever you hide behind your grief, never do you argue for Manheim as Manheim. Are you a man? Or are you a coward? WELL?”
Byron had stepped towards the fire, the fringes of his robes dangerously close to where Varus was cooking. Manheim had stepped back under the verbal lashing levied by Byron. Julian and Henri exchanged concerned looks.
Byron turned to Varus, “I will lead you through the book you came through, if only to see THAT CREATURE,” here he pointed sharply at Manheim, “face down the Beast, and the reality of the thing, the fullness thereof. What say you?”
Manheim said, “Wait just a minute—”
“You have nothing more of interest to say to me. Sit down. Varus—”
Varus gestured calmly, allowing a deep breath to enter into the conversation. “Byron, we are your guests, surprise guests but guests nonetheless. We came with a message to give you, and that has been accomplished. We would certainly welcome you accompanying us through the book. I do not relish the prospect of facing that beast again—but perhaps you can help us if we do meet it.”
“Very well.” Byron said. “After this meal you are preparing—we will go.”
Julian heard Henri breathe a sigh of relief.
They ate in silence, and then packed in silence. Julian had never seen Manheim so taken aback—he looked like a complete different person, so devastating was the Blackpage’s rebuke. Varus returned his cooking supplied to his book; Byron placed a large book in a leather sling and hung it over his shoulder. Henri and Julian both packed their bags and labored to shoulder them again for one last journey. When the preparations were done, all stood.
Varus said, “Well, Byron—we’ve said our piece. Thank you for sharing the meal with us. We wish you all peace and pleasantness, and I hope you recall that the Order holds no grudge against you henceforth. If you decide to return at any point, you would be welcomed as a long lost brother.”
Byron nodded, and said nothing.
“We will take our leave, now. Will you still be joining us?”
“Yes,” he replied quickly.
“Very well.”
Varus, limping, led the march out of the cave, along the rocky ridge, towards the fencepost, to the small pavilion where the stone lectern held the travel book.
Julian took in the scenery. “You think we’ll ever see this again? These mountains—”
“Try to remember them,” Henri said, “Maybe you can write a book with them one day.”
The thought had not occurred to Julian, but now he looked out at the mountains with new resolve. The grey skies of the morning had cleared into a deep blue, making the white snowdrifts practically shine off the grey-black rockfaces of the sharp mountain peaks.
“Come along, Novices,” Varus called. Julian and Henri broke their reverie, and jogged to catch up to the pavilion.
Manheim’s hands were shaking, Julian noticed—Manheim tried to stuff them into his robes, but it was hard to mistake. Varus went around to prepare the travel book, when Manheim interjected. “Wait! Just—just a moment,”
All eyes were on him.
“Byron,” he said, “I recognize now—as we prepare to enter this world again—I recognize that I am terrified of facing that beast again. I cannot deny it exists.”
“So ends your pretense for accusing me of murder.” Byron said firmly.
“Byron I—confound it. I am sorry. What little consolation that may offer—I was wrong. If we go in there and see that beast again, I will be afraid for my life. And that means, whatever the beast is, it is real.”
Byron’s expression was emotionless. He stared at Manheim for a moment—Manheim’s eyes were wet, and his hands continued to shake. Byron finally nodded, “I accept your apology. And I forgive you. Nevertheless—we still must return the way we came.”
Manheim nodded, and wiped his eyes. Henri and Julian looked at each other, unsure of what lay ahead. Varus beckoned all of them to gather around, said the words, and—
The great wind blew once more, and Julian landed on his feet. Varus winced, and Byron looked as if he had been standing there waiting for them.
“Hey,” Henri said, first as always to take in their surroundings, “Weren’t those doors closed when we left?”
A terror struck Julian at the thought that the Beast had opened these doors in their absence. He looked outside—it was daylight, but hard to tell what time.
Varus sighed, “We had better hurry.”
To be continued…
Thank you very much for reading! This is Find The Blackpage, a fantasy adventure serial set in the world of Daranna. This will be a serial publishing every week, for a tentative total of twelve episodes. Please subscribe to be sure you don’t miss an installment sent directly to your inbox!
If you enjoyed this episode, please let me know with a like or a comment! If you really liked it, please share it with a friend! If you would see what other stories I have to offer, you can START HERE and navigate to all my other fiction.
God bless!
AJPM
That's going right on my list of "Questions You Never Want to Have to Ask in a Situation".
Some dynamic changes happening in these characters :D at least the doors weren't saloon doors that were still swinging with the closeness of the Beast... But now I'm scared for the next episode 😨