Encraty: Mystery of the Silver Panflute

By Martez Andrews II

A young teenage boy wakes up with amnesia. He has no memory of who he was or who took his memory. 

He partakes in a hero's quest to realize his true identity in what seems like a past life. On his journey, he meets new friends and encounters various artifacts that help him restore pieces of his memories. 

Among these is the

• Language: English
• Publisher: Martez Andrews II
• Release date: Aug 11, 2020
• ISBN: 9781087905181

Book preview

Encraty

Encraty

Encraty

Mystery of the Silver Panflute

Martez Andrews II

COPYRIGHT 2020 ©  BY  Martez Andrews II

This guide is a general work. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s mind or are used respectively. Any resemblance to similarly named locales, events, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

First Printing, 2020

For Sterling, Solomon, Christa, Kyron,

And anyone who has helped in life.

Contents

1 Tin Foil

2 Amnesia

3 Amethyst Relic

4 The Man with the Linen Shirt

5 Summer Solstice

6 Lady Monique

7 Team Encraty

8 Earl Grey Tea

9 Cable Men

10 Metal Detectors

11 Transfer Flight

12 Baggage Claim

13 Crab Rave

14 Christmas Caves

15 Abandoned Blade

16 Winter’s Edge

17 Shimmering Leaves

18 Pompous Pegasus

19 Industrial Improvement

20 Unexpected Visitors

21 Shadow Seeker

22 The Almond Eater

23 The Dozers Brotherhood

24 Nocturnal World

25 The Chase

26 Truth Revealed

27 The Silver Panflute

28 Solemn Song

29 Memories Restored

30 The Fall of Omar

31 Golden Eagle

1

Tin Foil

It was 10:00 a.m., a Friday morning. The sun was glistening through the windowpanes. The morning ravens were chirping eagerly. A gust of wind passed by and embraced a yellow dandelion outside. It was quickly snatched up by a passing adult and discarded. 

Devonte was just waking up. He noticed he had set his alarm for 9:00 a.m., but some odd feeling told him to sleep in for an hour. He walked into his bathroom and used a navy-blue toothbrush in the holder near his mirror. It felt strangely unfamiliar as he brushed. Afterward, he grabbed a quick shower. His shower curtain had a foggy, translucent plant pattern depicted on it. The temperature was cold, so he adjusted it more to his liking. It looked unfamiliar. Everything looked unfamiliar. 

After getting ready for the day, he walked downstairs to find his mother. She was cooking eggs and sausages into an omelet on a stainless-steel pan. Her dress had a lavender design and flowed gracefully. It flowed as if the summer breeze was present inside the room. 

I know you’re just getting up, but be sure to do the dishes before you go out and about, his mother exclaimed. The sink had bowls, a few greasy pots, and two iron pans, all with dried crumbs from last night’s family dinner in them. 

Alright, I’ll get it done, he responded. He took a small bowl with spinach residue and started. After about an hour, he finished…or so he thought. His 10-year-old little brother, Ethan, placed a dirty bowl of cereal mixed with rice milk into the sink. Following this escapade, he saw his mother staring at him. 

You’ve finally woken up. We found you unconscious at the park, she said. Devonte looked perplexed. 

How long have I been out? he asked. His mother grabbed a spatula and flipped the omelet. 

Two whole days. I fed you, and you were still breathing, but I was beginning to get worried, she said. A bewildered expression took on Devonte’s face. He paced around near the kitchen countertops for a moment. 

Two whole days? That’s crazy! Devonte exclaimed. I wonder how I ended up there... 

Do you remember what happened? his mother asked. 

I don’t seem to remember anything specific, he sighed. He had a slight bruise near his left temple. 

Well, here’s what I know, his mother started. Earlier that day, you texted me and told me that you were out...with a friend, studying or something. You left the house saying that you had to go somewhere. You were in quite a hurry to leave.

That’s interesting. I don’t remember sending that text. I also don’t remember what friend you are talking about, Devonte sighed. 

You must have hit your head very hard, his mother said. She was now concerned and worried about him. He was acting rather strangely. His behavior was somewhat different than usual. Devonte’s stance seemed rigid and stiff rather than loose and jubilant. He was wearing his shoes tied in an unfamiliar knot rather than the typical knot that he usually tied. He was holding a phone in his left hand instead of his right. 

I suppose so, Devonte said. He didn’t feel any different, but that was probably figuratively speaking. He did not remember how he was supposed to feel. His mother opened the refrigerator and took out a pitcher of apple juice. She retrieved a tall glass from a pine cabinet and set it down. She then poured the apple juice into the glass and passed it towards him. Devonte now leaned against the countertop with the coldest beverage he had felt in his hand in a long time. His mother had given him an organic brand straight from an apple orchard. 

Well, this juice should help to calm your senses, his mother suggested. She was now zealously preparing the omelet, adding peppers, onions, and garlic seasoning to it. This was an undisclosed family recipe. She had picked it up from a handmade cookbook, passed down to her. 

Thanks, Devonte said as he took a large sip of the cold refreshment. After drinking the juice, he felt slightly better. His left temple was still in pain from the concussion aftermath. Nonetheless, he felt somewhat better. The drink had a pungent refreshing flavor. He could taste the tang of the apple tree from which it had fallen. It renewed his senses and allowed him to allocate his energy towards the beginning of his search to recollect and remember. 

Suddenly Ethan walked over to a cabinet. 

Can I have a Pop-Tart mom? he asked. She looked at him for a second and then nodded yes. Ethan’s face lit up with wonder and excitement. Devonte’s mother opened the cabinet and handed him a strawberry Pop-Tart. He grasped it in his hand as if he were a college student that had won the lottery. Ethan then rushed off into the living room, proud of his prize. His mother must have been in a good mood.

Why did you give him that? I thought he had already eaten breakfast, Devonte asked.

He did a good job on his homework yesterday. I have to be sure to reward that kind of behavior, his mother acknowledged. 

Oh, right, Devonte said, now with slight understanding. 

You should follow his example. Next year, when school comes back around, I also expect you to do well, she added.

If you get all A’s, you just might have a surprise vacation in store. Devonte did not know what she meant by this, but he nodded and said, ok. 

He saw a small mural on the wall with a sentence hidden within it. It read, Family, where life begins. Ethan then turned on the TV. It was deafening. Devonte could hear it all the way from the kitchen. He was watching a nature documentary for kids about whales. 

Hey, can you turn the TV down? It’s too loud, their mother exclaimed. Ethan, hearing his mother, then took the remote and pointed it towards the TV screen. He turned it down a couple of notches. 

Is that good? Ethan asked. 

A little more, his mother said. Ethan then turned it down a few more notches. 

Perfect, their mother said. Devonte stared at the TV for a moment and then headed towards the door. His mother shook her head and called out to him.

Oh, and Devonte… his mother said. 

Yes? his mother responded. He turned around to see a large piece of the omelet she had prepared. She securely wrapped it in a tight bundle of tin foil.

Take this with you before you leave out. I heard from an article somewhere that eating home-cooking and taking a walk can jog your memory, Devonte’s mother said. He gathered his grey backpack, and she gave him leave to venture out. As he went outside, he noticed the abandoned dandelion stem. It was somber and barren. A brief memory flashed across his mind. Devonte remembered a similar situation happening on another occasion. When he was younger, a teenager had plucked a tulip from a community garden. It was on days like these where he secretly went out to plant more. 

As he continued walking along the dark grey sidewalk, he looked up. An unexpected sight was there waiting for him. He noticed a large golden eagle with esteemed plumage perched on a powerline above. It stared attentively at Devonte. After fixing its gaze on the tin foil in his hand, it reverted to staring at him. Then, suddenly, it flew off into the distance. 

"Well that’s interesting," he thought to himself. Usually, golden eagles were not common around city areas. He continued walking. 

As he walked, he began to take small bites out of his omelet. It had a distinctive egg and cheese taste. Sadly, he did not remember ever tasting such a food combination. He did not recognize the sidewalk he was walking on, nor the houses on the street. There was a broken traffic light hanging above the road next to his path. The light took longer than expected to change. Cars passed by in a woosh of red and blue. He struggled to carry on without thinking about the consequences of not remembering. 

What if he had friends that he made plans with? What if he had an out of town trip he would miss out on? Maybe a concert or a theme park outing was happening without him knowing. He would never know until something stirred his memory, or someone called his name. 

Alright, keep it together, Devonte thought. He then realized there was a slim possibility of him remembering everything all at once. Such a thought made his head hurt. He understood that it would probably take several days to return to his original self, and it made him even more eager to remember. He continued walking. He passed by a group of kids taking turns riding a two-wheeled vehicle. 

Let me use the hoverboard! One kid exclaimed excitedly. 

Strange, Devonte thought. It did not seem to be hovering. Wouldn’t such a vehicle be without wheels? Would it not be levitating above the ground? This was indeed strange. 

Soon he approached a crosswalk. There was a brief moment of hesitation before he decided which way he wanted to go. He took a right. As Devonte walked, he felt a chill flow down his spine. A feeling similar to when he remembered how he used to replant the uprooted flowers. A brief flashback flashed across his mind. This street was familiar. It was the same street he used to play on with his best friend. 

What was his name again? he thought. A clouded version of his friend came into his mind. A-Alex? No, that can’t be right… He then paced around for a moment. Allen! That was his name, he almost