The Four Elements and the Tablet of the Ancients

By Nick Lang

Two stories woven into one adventure that transcends time and culminates with one ending and one beginning. The first part.... As Zoe sits counting down the minutes until the final bell rings for end of term her attention is drawn back to the puddle she had run through earlier, the puddle she had managed to get ankle deep in whilst a dirt spray doused her but still somehow come out the other side clean and bone dry. She stared at it intently and watched the surface ripple forwards and then back in perfect synchronicity with her breathing.... Bailey walked through the park with his dog Jed, just like he did every day, however today as Jed takes a drink from the river he falls in and Bailey has to come to the rescue, before Bailey physically reacts the ground shakes and his dog is raised up on a dirt pedestal which weirdly enough (Bailey thinks) is the image that he had in his mind, moving quickly to retrieve his friend he drops him back in the water and panics as he struggles to pick him back up, that is until the river bed forms an earth wall across the nearby bridge and stops the water flowing completely... Abbey first felt a tickle on the back of her neck and then made leaves and twigs dance by blinking, before finishing with a mosaic mimicking the pattern in her mind formed by tree remnants on a canvas of air, it was the strangest walk home she had ever had. Upon returning home not only do they all receive a mysterious hand written and delivered letters but they all end up going on a carefully orchestrated trip to Athens where they meet the devious Arcadio who after explaining to them why they have these gifts also explains that he too has a gift but it is stored in an artifact called ‘the tablet of the ancients’ and is only obtainable by the other three uniting their powers. As the four go on an adventure to retrieve the tablet they each face tests of their powers, tests that not only require them to harness their gifts separately but and as a team and a newly formed family. The second Part... Legend writes that the goddess Gaia bestowed her children with the four base elements of life but quickly realized that only one pure of heart and inner strength could control the ferociousness of fire, so with this she removed it and placed it in the tablet of ancients, but ever conscious of the danger it possessed she decided the tablet would need to be hidden from any who would try to unleash its raw power. Being the Goddess Gaia’s most trusted friend and confidant made Aristaeus the perfect choice to anoint protector of the tablet and with this trust she sent him to the mortal realm to find the perfect hiding spot. It was a time of war between Gods and Mortals, Aristaeus scoured the land keeping himself to himself until he met Carotenes a small boy who after Aristaeus rescues him joins him on his journey and together they face harsh terrain, double crossing villagers, a pack of vicious Minotaur’s and make an enemy of the only mortal gods fear ‘Supreme commander Alessandro Daemonious’.

• Language: English
• Publisher: ReadOnTime BV
• Release date: Aug 22, 2014
• ISBN: 9781742844688

Book preview

Chapter 1

‘WATER’

As she lay there listening to the annoyingly repetitive beeping of the her alarm, only one thought ran through her mind - eight hours left to go until the end of the dull existence known as school, at least for another term. After about five minutes of lying there, the overwhelming need to eat took over, encouraging her to get out of bed for breakfast. She gathered her strength, threw back the bed covers and made her way to the shower.

As she arrived downstairs her mum was serving her breakfast; always the same, two pieces of toast, raspberry jam and a glass of orange juice.

Morning sleepy, said her mum.

Yup, she replied mid-yawn, not one for morning conversation. Her mum was glad of a response even as short as that.

You’ll need to hurry up or you will be late, added her mum in a slightly more stern tone. Once again the response was yup and nothing more. Once breakfast was finished and all other prep work for the day ahead was completed, she headed for the door.

Don’t forget you will need to come to my work after school for the keys, her mum shouted.

Yes, I know. You’ve told me like six times, replied Zoe.

Just checking…, added her mum.

She left the house, slamming the door behind her, and walked down the garden path to the gate - stopping to check the mailbox for anything for herself. This had become a morning ritual of sorts, even though she’d normally be lucky to get junk mail with her name on. Now realizing how late she was, she picked her pace up and headed for school.

Zoe was a small girl for the age of fifteen, a petite frame with milky-white skin and a smooth complexion. She was very pretty, boasting almond-shaped chocolate-brown eyes and a smile that could win over the most stubborn person - a cross between Alice from the Wonderland stories and Princess Jasmine from Aladdin; butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth or so she would have you believe. You see, any cuteness she exuded was merely a ruse to fill people with a false sense of security; despite her size she could be a terror. Many an afternoon was spent with her parents in the office of the headmaster, discussing her latest argument with a teacher or schoolyard fight, not that she ever started them. She wasn’t a bully, more a bullier of bullies. She would keep an eye on the kids who couldn’t fend for themselves and as soon as they started to get picked on, Zoe would end it quicker than it started. But make no mistake, she could play the part of the girly girl when needed to - she liked to class herself as a tomboy with a feminine side.

She reached school as the last bell had almost finished ringing. She raced to class across the sports field and around the big oak that stood tall at the far end of the field. Zoe had spent many lunch breaks climbing this tree and was familiar with every twig and branch that was attached to this magnificent monument to nature. She hopped a railing just by her class, hoping to make it in time, but found herself facing the biggest puddle she had ever seen. It had been raining most of the night, allowing this small lake to gather at the mouth of the pathway. She stopped, thinking fast of her next move in her race against the bell; but she quickly realized that she had no other choice - to go back would take too long and she had already been late three days this week, so that wasn’t an option. The puddle was longer and wider than she could jump so the only way was through; so she closed her eyes, lifted her skirt and ran.

As she got to the doorway, she opened her eyes and looked down to survey the damage caused by the muddy water she had just splashed her way through - only to be met, to her amazement, with the sight of clean legs (having milky-white legs meant any dirt would be magnified like white chalk on a blackboard). Her legs were clean, her skirt still dry and her shoes unscathed. She looked back at the puddle, which was still shimmering as if a herd of elephants had recently trampled their way through the dirty water. Weird, she thought, but now all concern was turned to her lesson as she entered the classroom.

As the day progressed, the hours seemed to get slower and slower. She was unable to concentrate on anything other than the impending holiday that awaited her. Zoe watched the clock tick away. After lunch, she found a seat that was positioned so she could stare out of the window. She used it to imagine she was watching a nature documentary and, as boring as that sounds, it was better than maths. As she was gazing out of the large, arched window her attention was drawn to the puddle.

Until now, she hadn’t really given much thought to the strange event that had happened earlier that day, but it now had her whole focus. As she was staring at the small puddle that had now been reduced through the heat of the early afternoon sun, the pearlescent glimmer across the surface caught her eye. The ripples caused by the wind were moving in a rather curious pattern. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but something seemed familiar about the movement - and then it hit her. The ripples were moving first towards her then, without pause, away from her -then again towards and then away. The timing was also strange; it seemed to be in time with her breathing. Thinking she must be dreaming, she held her breath to test the theory. Seamlessly, the ripples stopped as she released the air held in her mouth and the ripples once again moved away from her direction mimicking her fast release.

Zoe, called her teacher, please pay attention.

Yes, Miss, replied Zoe, who was still startled by what she had seen.

Finally the last bell of the term rang out loud. Gathering her things, Zoe made a quick exit from the building, glancing down on what was left of the once lake-like puddle - her mind full of questions and unable to concentrate on anything other than the ripples. As she left the school grounds, some of her friends called out to her, wanting her to hang out, but she politely declined and headed for her mum’s work. Maybe Mum can offer some form of explanation, she thought to herself, only to come to the opinion that unless she wanted to be sent to a mental home she’d better not talk to anyone one about this until she could get some clarity for herself. But how? she mumbled under her breath.

As she got to her mum’s shop she noticed that the awning in the front of the shop was dripping.

The drain must be clogged again, she said to herself. She watched the drips intensely, counting each one as it dropped like a lemming on the edge of a hundred-foot cliff, tossing itself to its demise. But, unlike a lemming, one stopped mid-air. Zoe did a double-take, shook her head then looked again - still the droplet perched level with the tip of her nose. She stepped back and then, splash, it fell. Walking backwards into the shop, she tripped over the curb. Spinning around as she fell, she bumped into a man leaving the shop.

Careful, he exclaimed, as he helped her to her feet.

Thank you, she replied, her head still spinning.

Once inside, she headed behind the counter into the back office where her mum was sorting through what appeared to be brochures of holiday resorts. Her mum had mentioned going away, but Zoe had just assumed she meant up or down the country, not overseas; but all the pamphlets she could see laid out were for foreign countries.

Unable to contain her excitement, and briefly forgetting the events that had transpired that day, Zoe ran up to her mum.

So where are we going then? France, Spain or what about Greece? Her mum glanced up from her desk. I give up. You choose, said her mum.

Pardon? asked Zoe, who was taken aback. Really? she said in amazement.

Yup, but you have until lunchtime tomorrow to decide - OK? her mum added.

Zoe’s mother was busy preparing dinner when she heard the sound of the letterbox clanging. Unlike the post to arrive this late, she thought, hands deep in the rissole mixture. She called out to Zoe to fetch the post. In typical teenager fashion, this was met with a huff and an I’m sure I was only bred for slavery comment carefully made under the breath.

As she made her way to the letterbox, a strange feeling took over; a sense that made her body shiver from one end of her spine to the other without pause. She got to the letterbox and put her hand cautiously in, all the time looking around to make sure she was alone. She reached in and pulled out an old-looking piece of paper carefully folded into an envelope shape and bound by string. The letter itself had no other markings other than an upside-down triangle with one word written beautifully in calligraphy:

ZOE

It had no stamp, no postmark and not even an address. Someone had put a lot of time and care into this, even going to the lengths of hand-delivering it and closing the door to the box loudly enough to instantly draw attention, as if to avoid any possible wear and tear from the weather from prolonged storage. She made her way sneakily back inside the house; for some reason she felt that this had to be opened in private. As she got to the bottom of the stairs, her mum yelled out from the kitchen, where her world-famous rissoles had nearly finished cooking.

What was it then? came the call from the kitchen.

Junk mail, Zoe shouted back, I threw it straight in the bin.

Oh, OK then, shouted her mum. She climbed the stairs, the note gripped firmly in her hand, and entered her room. Closing the door behind her, she walked over to her bed and sat down. She gently took one end of the string in between her thumb and forefinger and pulled slowly, releasing the folded sides and opening up the letter (it bore more resemblance to parchment then paper so she made sure to take extra care). The inside was no different to the outside - only a few words were written, again in calligraphy, but this time no ink had been used. It seemed to be a type of golden fleck, like the type used on expensive decorative tiling. Inscribed in the middle was one sentence:

PUTUS PECTUS PECTORIS PROGNATUS OF PUTUS UNDA

Zoe had never seen writing as beautifully crafted as this before, and written with such precision and style. She took a while to even read the words but, when she finally got around to it, she was left scratching her head. Having no idea what the words in front her meant, she turned to the only thing that could help - her laptop.

Google was brought up on the screen almost instantaneously (it was set as her home page). She typed the sentence in with a hope not unlike that of a child at Christmas waiting to see if Santa had bought that life-changing present. It took about 0.36 seconds to return hundreds of results, all of which having one familiar theme - ‘Latin’. Clicking on the first link, which was an online Latin to English converter, she waited for the page to open with anticipation and crossed fingers. Finally it popped onto the screen with the cursor flashing in the text-to-convert box. She began typing ‘putus pectus pectoris prognatus of putus unda’. She waited for what seemed to be hours, which in reality was only seconds. The English translation appeared on the screen:

‘pure heart born of pure water‘

Again with the water, she thought. This whole day had been about water and it was getting stranger by the minute. As if woken suddenly from a dream, her concentration was broken by the sound of her mum’s voice.

Zoe, dinner, called her mum. As she went to shut the computer down, a pop-up appeared on the screen. Visit Athens, it proclaimed. Quickly, she clicked on the red x to close the page, but again it re-opened. Visit Athens, it repeated. Trying to close it again, it just re-opened - again and again. Zoe had up-to-date firewalls and pop-up protection so for this to be happening was not only frustrating but causing her some confusion. She gave up and tried to shut down Internet Explorer all together. But still it kept popping up. Finally she gave in and closed the whole thing down, making a mental reminder to boot it up again later to check whether it was still doing it.

Sat around the dinner table with her mum, the pair of them discussed holiday possibilities whilst scoffing down the prized rissoles and passing brochures back and forth. Zoe had started to give it