The Mystics of Fargloom: Misadventure

By Theodore W. Monroe

in the realm of magic and other strange things, Puddypoo is a kitty cat. like most kitty cats, he turns up at the most awkward moments and as a result, he sees a lot of stuff. he sees things that are best kept secret, the kind of things you keep in the back of your memory. there are also things like when you are in the back of the barn with the girl from down the way. or maybe, it is when you are all alone on the back porch with your father’s best liquor. but then again, those could be the very things that you would push to the back your mind. book 1

• Language: English
• Publisher: Theodore W. Monroe
• Release date: Jun 29, 2011
• ISBN: 9781452480251

Theodore W. Monroe

I live in a suburb of Atlanta with my wife. writing is just a way to get away from the stress of the day.

Book preview

THE MYSTICS

OF

FARGLOOM

Book one

By

T. W. Monroe

This book is a work of fiction.

Names, characters, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Any Resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Copyright – 2011 by Theodore W. Monroe

Smashwords Edition, License

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

All rights reserved

No part of the publication may be reproduced or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying or otherwise, without the prior permission of the author

First published in the United States – 2011

I dedicate this to the one I love

My beautiful Wife

Joann

MISADVENTURE

Prologue

The darkness starts to close in on Michael and he can hear the silence laughing at him. Fumbling around on the ground, Michael seeks his flashlight. His mind feels the moments slipping by, but he only sees the shadows closing in. Retrieving the light he scans the darkness with the scampering of tiny feet filling the shadows. Stalagmites rise up from the cave floor, several are broken and scattered all around. Michael reasons that they must have been what he crashed into on his downward slide. What he finds a little further up, turns his insides out.

Brandon’s lifeless body bent and twisted is about ten feet up the slide. His legs are folded under a row of stalagmites and two of them have pushed through his chest from the back. Michael looks at the row of stone spears, more to keep from looking at Brandon’s body than anything. He remembers what he had learned about stalagmites in school and realizes that these are not natural. Some one has placed them here for just this purpose.

Michael’s mind shut down after he had climbed back up the slide and found his father’s body. Alone in the dark, he struggled to keep his sanity as he stumbled through passage after passage. He was not looking for anything, just walking aimlessly in the shadows of his light. He heard things in the shadows, but could not make out anything for certain. So he just continued on with his mind growing tired.

The passages this far down are bigger than the others and he has not found any resistance. His tired body slowed him down and he stopped to rest a bit. Faint laughter drifts over the darkness and Michael hears whispers of distant voices. A deep hunger pulled him into a sleep that is reluctant to release its prey.

Chapter 1

In the realm of magic and other strange things, Puddypoo is a kitty cat. Like most kitty cats, he turns up at the most awkward moments and as a result, he sees a lot of stuff. He sees things that are best kept secret, the kind of things you keep in the back of your memory. There are also things like when you are in the back of the barn with the girl from down the way. Or maybe, it is when you are all alone on the back porch with your father’s best liquor. But then again, those could be the very things that you would push to the back your mind.

Once he saw a woman singing in the rain and thought of a song he heard a long time ago. Needless to say, he keeps things like this to himself and seldom speaks of them. Well, for the most part anyway. There have been times when he would say something in passing and think nothing of it. More than once, this has gotten him into trouble with one person or another. It has caused him to be a bit closed mouth at times and more than a little bad-tempered. I say this because Puddypoo is not a cute little ball of fur, and this is not a child’s tale.

Although no one is quite sure how he does it, from time to time, he writes things down. Happy things, scary things and things like, when someone steps in a puddle that splashes an old lady in the face. Some things are sad, but some are funny, like when a tree whispers a particularly good joke to him. Even when they are not so funny, he jots them down if he still likes them. Sometimes though, he writes about bad things. Things that go bump in the night, as someone once said.

I guess we should tell you a little about Puddypoo. As kitty cats go, he is plump and a bit larger than normal cats. He is grumpy most of the time, which tends to make everyone leave him alone. His fur is black as the sky on a starless summer night, and eyes of green flicker in the shadows of the darkness. He has few friends, but the ones he has are true to the bone.

One such friend is Emmalou and Emmalou is a dog. She was orphaned in the thin light of a cool, spring mourning. Puddypoo heard her whimpers as he was strolling down a soggy river bank. Emmalou, or Emma to her friends, is a large slender dog with charcoal gray fur and the bluest eyes you have ever seen. She has a gentle disposition, and with more than a little help from Puddypoo. Emmalou has become aware of the world around her. Because you see, or have already guessed, Puddy is a magic cat and was not always a cat.

Although he almost never does these days, you know that Puddypoo can talk, think and reason just as humans or elves do. He would have said dwarves, but the truth is, he feels that they are a little slow. And never say that he is as smart as a Dragon, for he holds them in the utmost respect. Emmalou can understand and she communicates with Puddypoo quite well, but she cannot speak. As for Emma, she likes the short version of her name, but then again, so does Puddy.

With respect to Puddy’s writing, there are things you might want to know. For example, he is a bit short and to the point. Sometimes he writes down things that a flower has told him, or something a bird whispered to him on a cold winter’s night. Once he wrote that the blue flames of Nubus hugged him and warmed his soul forever, all the while whispering in his ear. He would never say just what the flames told him.

He tells these kinds of stories with great enthusiasm and sometimes tells of creatures no one else has ever seen. This adds things to his writing that may or may not have happened. Some people have questions about this or that, but he thought it true and wrote them down with the best of intentions. Once he wrote that flying horses carried men of fair skin to the moon and back. He would always say that it happened a long time ago and some of what he remembers could be the gossip of fairy tales.

Time has not played a roll in Puddy’s life, as we said before, he is a magic cat. How this effects Emmalou is not clear, because as long as anyone can remember, Emmalou has always been with Puddy. Both are always under foot and seldom out of trouble.

This is a story from Puddy’s own scrapbook and tells of things that happened as he would say a long time ago. It is in a place that has been long forgotten by most, although some of the older folks still talk about it. Many would say that it is just a fairy tale, but fairies have little to do with this tale.

It all began with Sarahdar waking up; Puddy was sitting on her chest. Emma the dog sat on her left side; her paws were on the side of the bed. She licked Sarahdar in the face. Stop that. What do you two what this time? She did not expect an answer, but things do not always happen as expected around Puddy.

Your father wants to see you. Puddy whispered in a smooth voice, it made Sarahdar’s heart flutter with fright.

Puddypoo! She screamed and tossed the big cat into the air. He landed on the foot of the bed.

Now that will be enough of that young lady. Puddypoo said calmly.

You can talk. Sarahdar’s thoughts quickly grew concerned as her face turned bright red. Have you talked to anyone else?

What is wrong Princess? Think that I have said something I shouldn’t. Puddypoo purred in a low rumble that made Sarahdar think he was laughing at her.

Sarahdar was the Princess of Azgur and the third child to King Altho. She is the only girl. Her thoughts went to a young boy in the village of Fieldcrest, just north of Dar Nalfik. And there was the time that she and her cousin Jenny, No. She pushed that thought out of her head; she did not what to think about someone knowing about that. As she though about all the things she did, she could not remember a time when Puddy was not with her. No. She said again.

Princess. Puddy purred. Princess.

Yes. Sarah whispered. What?

Things are not as they once were. Puddy said firmly. We have things to do.

Like what? Sarah looked at Emma. Can you talk too?

Puddy purred with a sigh. The dog can’t talk. Emma Growled at the big cat. I am sorry. Emma can’t talk.

Sarahdar frowned. But she can understand us?

That’s right Princess. Puddy confirmed.

Sarahdar got up, but not before grabbing her night shirt off the chair next to her bed. She slid under the covers and put it on before crawling out and standing up with a yawn and stretch. Before today, she would have gotten up with nothing on and admired her nude body in the mirror. Sarahdar looked over to Puddy. Call me Sarah. She did not like it when someone called her Princess.

With a sideways glance, Sarah looked into the mirror. The image that looked back was of a young girl of seventeen summers. Her long blond hair fell passed her shoulder to the middle of her back. Her eyes are blue, she has full but small beast. Not too small. She thought, And more than one boy said that I had the perfect pear shaped bottom.

Sarahdar was not the self indulgent half wit that looks so admiringly in the mirror. She was quite athletic and could best most of the boys she considered friends. Still, she gives the impression of being weak and frail. Sarahdar thought it gave her an edge. Like now, most of the girls she knows, and some of the boys, would have run out screaming at the sight of a talking cat. Most of her friends are the sons and daughters of the nobles in her father’s court.

Puddy’s thoughts were on other things and only allowed the Princess a moment to enjoy the image in the mirror. Princess. He urged. Time is short. We must go.

Sarahdar turned on the cat. Puddy! She snapped. If you are going to talk. Call me Sarah. She had always preferred the short form on her name. It was her grandfather’s nick name for her.

Of coarse Princess. Puddy purred. Can we go now?

Sarah steamed at the cat. I have to get dressed.

Allow me. Puddy raised a paw and chant something Sarah did not make out. A thin line of blue light stretched forth and touched her toe. In seconds her entire body was covered in a faint blue glow. Once the light faded, Sarah glance at the mirror. She was dressed in a long brown tunic like the peasants of Fieldcrest wore. Knee high black boots, covered skin tight brown leggings. The tunic came down almost to the boots, making it look like a dress. A black belt pulled it tight around her waist.

You have got to teach me that. Sarah was fascinated with magic and fancied herself a wizard. All be it in secret, her father would not approve.

Come Princess. Puddy urged.

Puddy? Sarah questioned. Did I --. She trailed off.

No.

Then, you could always ---. Again she trailed off, not wanting to think about it.

Yes. Puddy’s tone was filled with annoyance.

Once or twice, Sarah saw the cat doing things that were not quite right. Sarah always thought that there was something magic about the cat, but never thought anything like this. She thought that at most, it was a familiar. Puddy would always walk away when she mentioned the insult.

That is why she went looking for the spell. She found it in her father’s main library. The King does not like magic, but Sarah was surprised to find a good many books on the subject. Sarah used the spell on every animal she could find, it promised to make animals talk. None ever did. When she used it on Puddy, she lost her own voice for two days. Now that she thinks about. Puddy did you? Sarah stopped, unsure of how to phrase her concerns. Instead, she questioned the reason for his hurry.

I am only here to take you to your father. Puddy answered.

My father is in Dursbane. Sarah whispered as she continued to look in the mirror. Go away. I think I will go and get some breakfast. She turned and picked up some bits of bread and made her way to the window sill. Placing the bread down, she whistled. A large black falcon perched on the sill and took the bread. It let the Princess rub its beck before taking fight once more. It was just a yearling and already larger than most Falcons.

He arrived this morning and sent me to fetch you. Puddy hissed with aggravation. Emma made a sound that made Sarah turn around. It sounded like the dog was purring. I know. Puddy silently spoke in the dog’s mind.

Sarah returned his snippy tone. I am not a dog to be fetched. Emma growled. Sorry girl, no disrespect. She said, but her thoughts were on how odd it was to be talking to a dog and cat.

Princess the King is waiting. This is important Princess. Puddy’s tone lost some of its edge, but Sarah could feel the urgency in his voice.

It must be about my birthday. Sarah suddenly gasped. Puddy knew that it was about her age, but purred in a low hiss as his apprehension grew. Okay let’s go. She giggled as she skipped out the door into the hall, but once there she stopped and turned on the cat. She let all the pretence fade away. I am going to breakfast. This joke is over. With a swirl and flip of her hair she darted down the hall toward the kitchens.

Puddy meowed with a loud gasp of anger, but did not follow the Princess. He turned to the dog and hissed. This is going well. Emma snorted and Puddy almost thought she was laughing at him.

The King was not amused at the Princess’s attitude, as the two Knights of Azgur showed. The Knights expressed their regret for the rough treatment, but did little to ease her discomfort. Each had the Princess under an arm; her feet dangled about a foot off the ground. Puddy loped along in front of them with a smug swagger to his trot. Emma whimpered as she followed along the corridor.

My father will hear of this. Shouted the Princess.

Kendrik just laughed and said. Whom do you think gave us the orders Princess? The cat. Sarah steamed as the cat looked back and winked at her.

Stopping at the door to her father’s private chambers, reinforced the Knights words. Kendrik and his comrade Faren just smiled, offered apologies once again for the roughness and walked away. Sarah thought of sprinting away, but found her feet frozen in place. She looked at the cat and snorted an insult. Puddy purred softly. Going in Princess?

Without a word, the Princess opened the chamber doors and entered. She slammed the door in the cat’s face. Emma’s mournful cry brought a smile to her face. Puddy thought it was funny, he knew that she was acting out of embarrassment more than anger.

But I don’t want to go to Dar Nalfik. The Princess was protesting when Puddy finally found his way into the inter chambers. Why do I have to go? Puddy can talk. Did you know that?

Yes Princess. I know that Puddy can talk. He is the one that has suggested you go to your Brother’s castle. There is a cross over to Dun Hollow. Said the King curtly.

Sarah spun on the cat. I’m not going through Dun Hollow pass. She gave Puddy a look that spoke of her contempt. My brother is hunting. That is why I am here. You could have just come to Dar Nalfik to begin with. She stamped her foot in a pout. My birthday is next week.

Puddy purred quietly and let the young girl vent her frustrations before speaking. King Altho walks to the window and studies the dark clouds to the south and thinks of his oldest son. He hoped that his messenger finds him soon, before the Princess leaves.

Are you sure of this Puddy? Asked the King, he did not want to know the answer. In his heart he already knew.

She has the mark. Puddy winked at the Princess. I have seen it.

Sarah rubbed her inter tight, she knew of what mark the cat spoke. You’re sick.

That is enough. Altho was not comfortable talking so intimately about his daughter’s body. It’s settled. You go to Dar Nalfik.

Chapter 2

Nathon felt the cold, uncaring wind and tightened his cloak. Even with the canvas pulled tight over them, the flames of the fire flicker in the wetness and gives little warmth. It echoed the sentiment of the forest as lightning flashed in the distance. What it revealed, was a cold gray sky that blurred with shadows and dark clouds. The light flickered across solemn faces and no one spoke. Wind whistled a dismal tune in the gloom of the night.

Adrian broke the silence stepping into the light of the fire. I haven’t seen a storm like this in years. He paused. Are you alright Nathon? Adrian frowned as Nathon did not look up, but sat with his eyes fixed on the fire. Wolfy, the Prince’s wolf hound sat up at the sound of Adrian’s voice. She had hopes of a treat. None was forthcoming and she soon slumped to the ground with a dread, her stomach rolled.

Sire? Adrian showed his concern for the Prince in his voice, the other men sitting about the fire began to mumble under their breath. There is Hansin, the captain of the royal guard; Adrian always thought he was a bit arrogant. He is tall, and a bit thin, but Adrian would caution anyone who thought he was weak. Hansin carries a broad sword at his waist, which he now has across his lap, his hand on the hilt. Long blonde hair that falls to the shoulders and a babe face, adds to the illusion of his weakness.

Next to him is Killian, a wizard of sorts, the magic in Azgur is not like magic in other lands. A long time ago the people of Azgur made a conscious decision to turn their backs on wizards and magic. Killian is better than most, but something in the air seems to stifle the magic. Some still keep the practice alive with simple healing spells or to get a fire to burn in the rain. As a result, Killian also carries a weapon, but his weapon of choice is a long bow and quiver of arrows. Two long curved daggers hang from his belt, and he has a tall oak staff with a lead ball strapped to the top. Killian is not tall, but no one would call him short, he has dark black hair with a mustache and beard.

Further over is Buldrik the brute, who is a foot taller than most men and brandishes a sword to match his size. He has red hair and full beard; it is cut close and trimmed. Wolfy sits on the other side of the fire from Buldrik, as he like to kick her for no reason. Adrian gave them all a contemptuous glare, only Killian gave any notice. He smiled up at Adrian and