Torrential Reign

By Yalmact Swillirs

Sophie and Ken must be dead – that’s the most rational explanation for their current situation – but when you’re directly faced with strange, enchanted beings; logic and reason fly out the window.

The burden of heavy responsibilities, foreign customs and alien surroundings makes life for them – wherever they are – no less difficult from the ones they left.

Sophie is once again placed into a role that she knows quite well, while poor Ken is forced into a position that requires him to master concepts and ideas capable of sending the sanest person mad.

No wonder Torrential Reign, the second installment of The Fynian Fable, is wrought with hate, pain, betrayal and unearthly delights.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Yalmact Swillirs
• Release date: Jul 10, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310850769

Yalmact Swillirs

Being born and raised in Adelaide, South Australia, demanded Yalmact to develop an overactive imagination in order to tolerate the city's dreary atmosphere. A twisted sense of humor enabled Yalmact to survive a series of dead-end jobs and difficult life events while penning Mad Town, the first novel in the Fynian Fable series. Often escaping reality into a wide variety of written works by remarkable authors such as Stephen King, J. K Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien, enabled Swillirs to develop their own unique voice and writing style. Had these elements not been present and Yalmact had not taken up writing, it is in all likelihood that Swillirs would have thrust their head into a cement wall to escape the monotony of their life.

Book preview

Torrential Reign

The Fynian Fable

Copyright Yalmact Swillirs 2014

Smashwords Edition

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People are lonely because they build walls instead of bridges.

–Joseph F. Newton.

The A-Z of Faery Vernacular is located for your reference at the rear of the book

Chapter 1

The Morning After

Ken began to stir. He arched his back, his hand sliding down something smooth as the haze of sleep lifted. With the awakening of each sense, he became more aware of extra weight on his stomach. He opened his eyes. A head, hidden amongst messy blonde tresses, rested on his stomach. Memories of the previous night started to flash back: Kerry’s party, Joekhol, the elders, meeting his father and something about Sam.

Ken’s eyebrows furrowed as he struggled to remember. What was it again? It had been some sort of secret. He rubbed his eyes; frustrated that the information didn’t come easily. What was it? It was important. Sam … Sam hadn’t really been Sam; he’d been a completely different person to whom Ken had known. Ken’s eyes snapped open when the answer hit. Sam, the scrawny boy he’d lived with for months, had never even existed. Sam was and had always been… Sophie. The previous evening’s events all became crystal clear – Sophie in tears, carrying her into the bedroom, the feel of her soft kisses and then the most exhilarating experience of his life.

Although he could feel her lying against him, it was hard to believe that any of it had actually happened. Surely, he’d wake up at the convents and find out this had all been a hallucination from a vicious beating. Ken’s eyes wandered down Sophie’s naked back and his caressing hand followed their path.

Sophie’s breathing deepened at his touch as she began to wake. She swept the hair from her eyes and her brow knitted. Ken watched her with apprehension. What was she thinking? Was she regretting what had happened?

She rested her chin on his bare stomach and met his gaze as the last remnants of sleep departed.

‘Good morning,’ she whispered.

Relief washed over Ken at the sound of her voice. He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.

‘Good morning.’

With each passing moment, Sophie became more alert. She deeply breathed in Ken’s scent, savouring each aspect of it. The delightful feeling of his warm, firm skin under her chin felt even more heavenly against her breast, Sophie paused.

Wait … against my what?

Colour rushed to her cheeks at the realisation that they were both naked. She started to recall the entire events from the previous evening: meeting her father, weeping and then Ken—

As she recollected that final memory, she flung herself away from him.

‘What’s wrong? Are you okay?’ Ken asked, sitting up.

Sophie pulled the blanket from the bed and covered herself with it. She was embarrassed and couldn’t meet his eye. She couldn’t believe how weak she had been. Sobbing like a child because she had met her father, a man who was nothing more than a stranger to her. It was one thing to cry amidst a bashing, but what she had done was quite another matter. It had her feeling more exposed and vulnerable than any form of nakedness could. She was ashamed that Ken had seen her in such a state.

She stared at the ground. ‘I just feel a bit disgusted.’

If she’d been watching Ken, she would have seen the hurt in his eyes. Her words from their wedding echoed in his mind.

I don’t want to marry you.

With his hands, Ken covered his privates and averted his gaze.

‘Did you move our clothes somewhere else?’

Sophie lifted her eyes. ‘No, I didn’t. They have to be somewhere around here. They can’t have just vanished.’

Ken took from the bed a pillow which bore a large S on it, and used it to conceal himself. Aside from the door from which they had entered the prior night, there were two others in the chamber.

‘They weren’t accidently kicked under the bed?’ he asked.

Sophie bent over and checked. ‘No, there’s nothing there. Do you think someone came in here last night and took them?’

Ken shook his head. ‘No, we would have heard them.’

Sophie blushed. ‘Well, we were making a fair bit of noise.’

Ken turned bright red and cleared his throat. ‘Um … yes. Well, I’ll have a look behind one of these doors. Maybe we’ll find something else to wear.’

He went over to a crimson door emblazed with gilded decorations. The moment he touched the golden knob, he jumped back.

‘What is it?’ Sophie asked, gathering the blanket around her as she moved beside him.

‘The painting started shifting when I touched the handle.’

They read the words which appeared in the middle of the door:

A tear, a scream, a ghoulish dream;

A hillock, laughter or a blissful stream;

See the truth, which shall set you free.

‘I don’t think we should open it,’ said Ken, stepping backwards. ‘Come on, let’s check behind the other door that has no threats.’

‘Ken, can you read it?’ Sophie asked.

Ken paused, perplexed. ‘Wait … yes, I can. How can I even do that? I can’t read properly.’

‘It’s only a door, what’s the worst that could be behind it?’ said Sophie, opening it.

They each beheld the extreme opposite of what the other saw. For Sophie, the door revealed a beautiful meadow with gnarled trees with sunlight that peeked through their canopy. Butterflies, birds and small animals frolicked through the lush green grass. The atmosphere was peaceful and beckoned Sophie to enter.

Ken, on the other hand, saw something quite disturbing. Torrential rains hammered down and flashes of lightning revealed a grotesque creature which lurked in the darkness. The overwhelming sense of hopelessness and despair which radiated from it made Ken’s stomach lurch. He could not believe his eyes when he saw Sophie willingly step through the threshold and into the darkness.

Within a second, Ken had dropped his pillow, leaped over to the door and pulled Sophie out. He slammed the door shut and held her by the shoulders.

‘What were you thinking?! Why would you even consider going in?!’ Ken demanded.

Sophie watched him with confusion. ‘Calm down, Ken. I hardly think I was in any danger.’

Ken’s eyes bulged. ‘Not in danger?! Are you kidding me? Sam … I mean, Sophie … I know you’re brave but do me a favour and promise me you won’t go back in there!’ He pulled her into a fierce, protective hug. ‘Promise me! Please, promise me!’

Sophie placed a comforting hand on his back. ‘Alright, Ken. If it means that much to you, I promise I won’t.’

‘Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!’ he whispered, showering her cheek with grateful kisses. It wasn’t long until their lips were locked.

‘Oh, would you look at that young stud! He’s ready for another roll on the floor.’

Sophie broke away, her eyes darting around the room. There was no one there.

Ken stared at her, his eyes hungry. ‘Is everything alright?’

‘Yes,’ Sophie whispered, resuming their kiss.

Things were becoming very passionate; with Sophie’s blanket falling from her hands.

‘They’re certainly like rabbits! Always ready to go again. Gosh, it brings back memories.’

‘Ha! I don’t think so! They’re about to be rudely interrupted!’

Sophie broke away and picked up the blanket. There was an uninvited audience watching them from somewhere.

‘What’s wrong?’ Ken asked, breathless and confused. He leaned closer, wanting to kiss her again.

Sophie covered herself and pushed him away. ‘You don’t hear that?’

Ken was bewildered. ‘Hear what?’

There was an unmistakable thundering against the door.

Ken jumped, picked up the cushion which he had previously discarded, and used it to shield himself. ‘Wow, Sam.’ He blushed. ‘I mean, Sophie … you’ve got very good hearing.’

‘Come on, Kenny-boy! Open up, Sophie-man! It’s time to get up and start the day!’ yelled Joe.

‘Yeah! You’ve got a lot to do! Open the door!’ added Big Ears.

‘Um, we’re not quite dressed yet,’ Ken answered back.

Laughter roared through the door.

‘Oh, you little cherubs!’ squealed Joe. ‘I bet you’ll be unable to stay awake!’

‘I bet Sophie will be limping down the corridors,’ laughed Big Ears.

In anger, Ken threw the door open to lecture them on manners. At the sight of his near naked form, the small dog and large eared man, burst into uncontrollable hysterics; their frames convulsing while they floated in the air.

‘Oh, Kenny-boy! I know you’re king, but a cushion is hardly appropriate!’ said the dog, wiping his tears on the sleeve of his red jacket.

‘What’s Sophie wearing? A couch?’ chimed Big Ears. ‘Look – he’s wearing a sex cushion! See the S?’

‘Ha! She’s got a blanket on! You two are the silliest royals we’ve ever met!’ said Joe.

Ken reddened and hid behind the door. ‘We can’t find the clothes we were wearing last night.’

‘Well, where did you leave them, you silly daft?’ asked Joe.

‘Erm, well, on the floor, I guess,’ muttered Ken.

‘Oh, they did it on the floor! What, is a bed too high class for you?’ asked Big Ears, smirking.

‘Alright, alright!’ cried Joe, wiping away tears. ‘We have to stop, otherwise we’ll never leave. Okay, have you checked in the boudoir?’

‘What’s that?’

‘Oh, Kenny-boy, don’t be silly!’

Sophie came to the door. ‘Come on, guys, give us back our clothes. I know you were just in here. I heard you call us rabbits.’

‘We never called you that,’ said Big Ears.

Ken glanced at Sophie. ‘I didn’t hear them say it, either.’

‘Oh, I must have misheard.’ Sophie blushed. ‘Please, just give us back our clothes.’

‘Okay, as I was saying, Sophie-man, just go into your boudoir. You’ll find all of your clothes in there. Whenever you take clothes off in the chamber, they instantly get cleaned and put in there.’ Joe pointed towards the other door in the chamber.

‘But if you really want to spend your first day on the throne wearing a cushion, I’m sure you can, Ken,’ said Big Ears. ‘Otherwise, you’d better hurry up and get dressed. The elders won’t appreciate being kept waiting.’

‘Just wait out here,’ said Ken, shutting the door.

‘We have no choice,’ called Big Ears.

‘Can you believe those two?’ asked Ken, trying not to smile as they headed towards the door Joe had pointed out.

Sophie shook her head. ‘It’s strange that we have to rely on them for guidance.’

The boudoir was divided in two by several couches that were strewn in the centre. One side contained the latest fashion for men, and the other for women. Each article of clothing levitated along the wall, seemingly hung on an invisible pulley. It was an ingenious idea as the onlooker could properly appraise each item. Every article of clothing was unique and elegant.

‘I’m a bit uncomfortable wearing something like that,’ said Ken, intimidated at the sight of a heavily jewelled shirt.

‘I don’t think we have many other options available unless you want to keep wearing that cushion.’

‘Oh, get him to wear the emerald one. He’ll look dashing in that.’

Sophie’s eyes fell on a green shirt that was levitating past. She went over and took it out of the procession.

‘Why don’t you wear this?’ Sophie asked.

Ken raised an eyebrow at its diamond buttons. ‘I don’t know about this.’

‘Ken, there aren’t many different choices,’ said Sophie, pointing to other sparkling shirts.

‘You have a good point.’ Ken sighed, taking it.

He put the shirt on and as soon as he fastened the last button, dark pants, knee high boots and a crown magically appeared on him. The outfit completed itself.

‘What the hell?’ said Ken, staring down at himself. ‘How did that happen?’

‘Wow,’ said Sophie.

‘See what happens when you put on a dress.’

‘Oh, pick the olive one. You’ll be matching!’

Sophie again followed the advice of the unseen voice and chose a shimmering olive dress from the wall. The moment she put it on, sparkling shoes appeared on her feet and her hair was styled into an intricate braid around a crown.

‘Wow,’ said Ken, his eyes full of warmth. ‘You look breathtaking.’

‘Walk over to the empty wall.’

Sophie glanced at Ken. ‘Did you hear that?’

‘Hear what? Did Big Ears and Joe say something?’

Sophie took his arm. ‘I’m not exactly sure what I’m doing but come with me.’

They went over to the boudoir’s only empty wall. As soon as they were within a metre of it, the wall began to ripple and turned to silver. They stared in awe at their reflection. The word ‘royalty’ described them perfectly.

‘How did you know that would happen?’ Ken asked.

‘I have no idea.’

Hammering against the bedroom door startled them.

‘Hurry up, you two rabbits!’ called Big Ears.

‘I guess we had better go out to them,’ Ken said.

‘I doubt that our day could be worse than how last night played out,’ said Sophie, thinking of their encounter with Ummud.

For a second, Ken’s face was clouded with pain and hurt. He took a deep breath and wiped away all trace of it.

‘Well, each time it seems like it can’t get worse it does,’ muttered Ken, walking to the door.

‘I know that feeling,’ said Sophie, following him out.

Ken grimaced; he hadn’t expected her to hear or agree with him.

Chapter 2

The Paian

‘Quickly! Quickly!’ barked Big Ears as he and Joe led Ken and Sophie through a labyrinth of corridors.

‘Where are we going?’ asked Sophie, struggling to keep pace.

Joe, who was floating ahead of them, swung himself so he faced them upside down; his red jacket falling around his head and his sunglasses managing to somehow stay on his head.

‘Duh! We’re taking you to meet with the elders.’

‘Why do they want to meet with us?’ asked Ken.

‘Gee, I wonder why?’ asked Big Ears. ‘Hmm, maybe to talk to you?’

‘Are they God?’ asked Ken.

‘The Moerae, God?’ repeated Big Ears. ‘Yes, yes they are.’

He and Joe held a serious expression for a moment before breaking into hysterics. Unable to speak, they gestured for Sophie and Ken to go through two large, ornate doors. On their approach, the doors swung open, revealing a grand, richly decorated room. Thousands of books lined the shelves on the walls; it was the largest library Sophie had ever encountered. In front of the only window was a large table, piled high with books with three small women seated behind it. Sophie and Ken stood in the doorway, stunned. The woman with green hair raised her eyes.

‘Ah, your Majesties. Please, do come in. We've been expecting you.’

Sophie and Ken exchanged unsure glances.

‘There’s no need to be anxious,’ added a woman whose brown hair was styled into pigtails. ‘You certainly won’t come to any harm. I understand that this might be confusing for you.’

‘Joekhol and Ephram, please come in and control your laughter,’ said the woman with green hair.

The small man with large lobes whizzed past Sophie and Ken, halting inches in front of the women.

‘My name is Big Ears! Don’t you dare call me anything else!’ he warned, his fists shaking. ‘We’ve been through this a million times! Keep testing my patience and I’ll lose it!’

The woman with brown hair raised her hand. ‘Calm down, there's no need for anger. You know Kikazaru, on occasion, has difficulty hearing and remembering certain things. You only recently made the change.’

Big Ears’ face darkened. ‘Only just changed it? It’s been changed for fourteen of their human years.’

Kikazaru turned to the woman with brown hair. ‘How long is that in our time, Mizaru?’

‘Oh, I’m terrible with converting other time measurements to our realm. You’d probably know, wouldn’t you, Iwazaru?’

The woman with blue hair raised her finger and used the air as a workbook. Sophie and Ken watched as she worked through the process, crossing out at the end of each step each of the golden, foreign symbols that appeared. With a sweep of her hand, she wiped the air clean.

‘That’s the equivalent of four and a half lunar cycles,’ Iwazaru answered.

‘So you must forgive Elder Kikazaru; it really hasn't been that long,’ said Mizaru.

‘Just call me Big Ears and we won’t have a problem,’ he said, moving next to Joe, who was hovering beside a diorama of a solar system that bore no resemblance to the one known on Earth.

Iwazaru glanced over at Sophie and Ken, who were still in the hall.

‘Please come in, you have nothing to fear.’

With a wave of Mizaru’s hand, two chairs appeared in front of the table. ‘Please, take a seat.’

Sophie and Ken sighed as they entered. Once the couple were seated, the elders floated high so they could be seen over the stack of books. Mizaru was the first to speak.

‘Now, from our brief conversation last night we’ve gathered that neither of you have an understanding of our realm. Is that correct?’

‘Well, we’re obviously dead,’ muttered Ken.

‘You ain’t dead, Kenny-boy,’ said Joe. ‘You’ve finally come home, where you belong.’

‘How much have your fathers explained?’ asked Kikazaru.

‘I didn’t even know I had a father,’ said Ken.

‘Who did you think was the person raising you?’ asked Mizaru.

Ken fixed his stare onto a book. ‘I was raised in a convent.’

The women exchanged glances.

‘Sorry, but what is a convent? We’re a little rusty with our human,’ said Iwazaru.

Ken raised his eyes and met each of theirs. What was the worst that could happen if he told the truth? He was already dead.

‘It’s a place that takes care of unwanted children.’

A book appeared in Iwazaru's hands. She leafed through the pages until she found the one she was after. She looked up with a frown on her face.

‘According to the magic registry, about a month after both of your of mothers’ passing, you began using the survival mechanism. Were you living with your