The Aulverse

By Daniel Archer

ONE HELL OF A PARADISE…

Ahh, the Aulverse, a world of wonder and anarchy, of entitlement and squalor; two sides to a very specific coin – the coin of this hellish paradise. Heads, and you might find yourself amongst the royals of the Kingdom of Bovidae; with their fancy horns and proper mannerisms, all groomed beyond perfection with silver spoons crammed so far inside their mouths it’s a wonder they can even breathe. Tails though, and you might find yourself in the slums of the Aphid Tunnels, surrounded by equally as oppressed insectoids, all born into slavery with no hope for freedom. Some have been known to find graces in their ill fate, just as others have gambled away their luck, life in the Aulverse however, just as any life, is what you make of it, so why not turn your back on the chain gang and the ivory towers? Why not venture out into No Man’s Land and peruse the diabolical Grisly Woods – really get that blood pumping? Who knows? You might even get to the bottom of the mysteries of this place, figure out why it is that one even finds themselves here, or how exactly, one might escape.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Jul 21, 2023
• ISBN: 9781528969024

Daniel Archer

Daniel Archer was born in Hobart, Tasmania during the April of 1996. He writes in his spare time and otherwise spends his youthful years as leisurely as one can. As for the future, he hopes there are more books to write, stories to unravel, and satisfying conclusions he can put to each of them.

Book preview

The Aulverse

Daniel Archer

Austin Macauley Publishers

The Aulverse

About the Author

Dedication

Copyright Information ©

Prologue

A Good Year in the City

Storm Surfers

Chapter One: Earth and Sky

Chapter Two: The Temptation of Cyan

Chapter Three: The Amabog Tribe

Chapter Four: The Aulverse

Chapter Five: Huntress of the Night

Chapter Six: Beyond

Chapter Seven: The Girl Who Kicked the Aphid’s Nest

Chapter Eight: Ye Weary Travellers

Chapter Nine: Slave of the People

Chapter Ten: Civil Parity

Chapter Eleven: Melfort in the Belfry

Chapter Twelve: Out of the Woods

Chapter Thirteen: Gabber’s Gift

Chapter Fourteen: A Fool’s Sport

Chapter Fifteen: Kangaroo Court

Chapter Sixteen: Liars and Scumbags

Chapter Seventeen: The Way

Chapter Eighteen: Destiny Seeketh Hawk

Chapter Nineteen: Hellspawn

Chapter Twenty: True Fidelity

Chapter Twenty-One: Hunter and Forager

Chapter Twenty-Two: Tunnel Vision

Chapter Twenty-Three: The Chamber of the Aulverse

Chapter Twenty-Four: Patient Discharged

Chapter Twenty-Five: And Then unto Paradise

Chapter Twenty-Six: The Puppet and the Puppeteer

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Honest Men

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Sanctuary

Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Bequest

Epilogue

About the Author

Daniel Archer was born in Hobart, Tasmania during the April of 1996. He writes in his spare time and otherwise spends his youthful years as leisurely as one can. As for the future, he hopes there are more books to write, stories to unravel, and satisfying conclusions he can put to each of them.

Dedication

For home.

May you never be too far away.

Copyright Information ©

Daniel Archer 2023

The right of Daniel Archer to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781528935883 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781528969024 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published 2023

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd®

1 Canada Square

Canary Wharf

London

E14 5AA

Prologue

There must be some alternative to the life that is led. There must be another option, another road to take, or another path to explore. It can’t just be this. Are we all born into the same world, or are some born into one, and others into something else entirely? If so, if it is even possible, is there a fine line between these two worlds? Can one world be perceived as sanity and the other insanity? And if both of these worlds are so different, then which one can be considered the more traditional of the two? If these parallel worlds will never meet, then surely they never did. So how can one venture between the worlds, pull the walls down between dream and reality, freedom and subjugation, life and death? What makes one world legitimate and another counterfeit, where is the distinction between them that can confirm such a thing? Who exactly is to say who is right, and who is wrong? Of course, the answer lays not with the working man or feeble contributor, but with the creators themselves, who deemed long ago what it was we were worthy of knowing. So perhaps we’ve been lied to, perhaps we will never know the truth of what we seek, or maybe we’re all just gullible little fleas, only worried about the scratching fur of the canine and completely indifferent as to the inner workings of its anatomy. Is it at all possible that an unfathomable world exists between the cracks of our own? That somewhere, on some plane, another world exists, fuelling our own whilst we fuel it? An afterlife perhaps, a place where our dead are held hostage and denied their return, or maybe a dreamland, wherein the sleeping souls that inhabit it fulfil their total potential through closed, relaxed eyes; eyes relieved of duty, of conscience. On that note, why does one sleep, and another wake? Why are we as individuals forced to close our eyes? To recharge our batteries? To jumpstart our minds, maybe? Or perhaps to stave off a world that is purely fuelled by the dreams that massage the mind at sleep? Do we rest only to keep at bay the impossible? To make sure that our reality remains fathomable? If so, then where do these two worlds collide, the two worlds of dream and reality? Where is the door, the window, the secret passage? Only in the catacombs of our minds does such a key await, and there are a few, those driven few, that search for this key, this ‘out’ to the confines of reality. Perhaps they search for religion, their God, or another of the various answers to the meaning of life? Or maybe, like most of us, they aren’t so concerned with such impossibilities, and just want to sleep off their mortal coil in the hope that they are granted an exceptional life as payment. We can only be what we are, but somewhere we can be more, we can be anything: The artist of a blank canvas, the scribe of an empty word, or the mind of a dead man, in a life that makes sense.

A Good Year in the City

William? … Will?

With little effort, the eyes of the addressed opened to see through cloudy vision the roof of the office he’d been sent to. With ease, he spied the conglomerate of cobwebs nestled in the nooks of the rafters, but he did not see the grand creator of the foundations, and a part of him prayed he wouldn’t.

Any luck? Madame Tilly asked from her wooden stool on his right.

Will blinked his eyes a few times in an idle attempt to fully immerse himself in reality. No, Ma’am, he grunted in that subtle Irish accent of his as he sat up on the chaise lounge and planted his feet on the floorboards of the room. I don’t feel any different.

He looked up just in time to see Madame Tilly give a noticeable sigh of vexation that she poorly tried to pass off as one of grievance. You still feel…

Will tried to not snort his derision. Confrontational? he asked. Like a wave of your magic wand was ever gonna make me sit and stay like a basset hound.

Please, Will, Madame Tilly sighed, her deep brown eyes seeming to flitter across his entire face, catching his gaze so many times he wondered why she didn’t just maintain eye contact. I’m only trying to help.

With an attitude problem, Will nodded, awkwardly leaning back on the lounge that wasn’t exactly designed for this type of sitting. Yeah, I know… Thank you.

You don’t want to—

I only came here for my mum, Will interrupted. "As far as I’m concerned, we’re done here. You tried your best, nothing worked, no problem. Hey though, we could always say it did work, then we’re both out of the woods."

Do not try to patronise me, William, Madame Tilly replied coldly as she ran two crimson painted nails through her wiry black hair, a habit she’d probably picked up the moment she’d noticed the grey taking over. If you feel no different, I don’t see any point in telling a lie to your mother, especially when it seems you’ll be in another holding cell come the next week or so.

A wry smile spread across Will’s lips. "So she did tell you why she wanted me to see you."

Madame Tilly didn’t react. She said you needed help and that she and your father have already tried everything.

They have, Will nodded as he patted his knees and stood to his feet. But there ain’t a thing wrong with me, Ma’am. I just have a problem with bein’ told what to do.

You’re young, William, Madame Tilly sighed, remaining seated. It’s not too late to accept that you can’t always be the biggest boy in the playground.

I never was the biggest boy on the playground, Will pointed out with a smile. And I was always aware of that. Still am.

Madame Tilly didn’t reply.

Alright, Will sighed. So, I’ll be off now; I’m assuming Ma already paid you for your services?

She did, Madame Tilly nodded, her hands resting upon the clipboard she had left face down in her lap.

Good day to you then, Ma’am, Will smiled, bowing curtly before he walked around the chaise lounge and headed for the door.

Will?

He turned, his hand on the golden door handle. Yes, Ma’am?

Did you experience anything at all noteworthy while you were hypnotised?

Will smiled. Hate to break it to you, Tilly. But I took the opportunity to doze off. He winked, then slipped out through the door without looking back.

Outside the room, Will found himself before an oval mirror he hadn’t noticed on his way into Madame Tilly’s ‘place of work’. The mirror was positioned at about chest height, so he had to hunker down slightly to inspect his reflection in it, wondering as he did, why the mirror was located at such a height, as he was average-sized at best. Will locked eyes with his own gentle green then quickly averted the inspection to examine his hair – as blonde and as spiked as ever – forever entrenched due to his time spent in salt water. Satisfied with his appearance, he poked his tongue out at himself then made his way down the staircase, whistling to himself as he did to match his swagger. Confrontational behaviour? Hardly. It was called altruism, or something to that extent, if he saw injustice being dished out or if someone was getting wailed on for no good reason, he was going to rush in with no concern for his own safety and no apprehension of a severe repercussion. Yes, this led to run-ins with the police and authority figures, and it hadn’t done him well in school either as Will seemed to have a knack for befriending the guy most likely to get his arse kicked. Maybe he just liked looking out for the little guy, making sure they had as good an opportunity as he did. At the end of the day, he didn't like people that abused their power, and he sure as hell didn't like bullies.

Will stepped off the staircase and walked through Madame Tilly’s shop, eyeing all the stupid-looking ornaments and mystic crap she had lying around for sale. He was presented with the opportunity to steal something as the guy behind the cash register seemed to not be being paid enough to care, but he resisted the temptation. Madame Tilly was just a hypnotist at the end of the day, who he supposed was only trying to help; with this in mind, Will was probably better off heading home and robbing his mother if he was so desperate to inconvenience someone for wasting his bountiful yet precious time. Again though, his mother meant well, she only wanted what was best for him, and he supposed that she had good reason to be downright worried about him. He was twenty-two years old, he didn’t have a job, he didn’t have a plan for the future, and he didn’t care. He surfed all day, sometimes into the night, mostly chasing those killer waves that storms wrought and the danger that went with them that got his heart pumping just right. Other than that, he hung out with his friends who were apparently bad influences, like – let’s face it – any good pal was, and spent a great deal of time with his good ‘friend’ Meera: an undisclosed partner in crime of his. She was probably the only thing he had going for him, that and his talent for surfing that saw him carving it up with the best of them, as far as his motley crew of surfer buddies went that was. When he and his parents had moved to Australia five years ago, he’d been without a hobby to suit the new climate, but within a year he’d fallen in love with the beach, gotten a surfboard, and gone surfing every day since. Worth it, he supposed.

The year was 1991, a good year to be alive and in your twenties, watching as the world altered drastically with each passing decade. The future looked bright, their past, less so. A lot of blood had been left back there, a lot of war, a lot of ill-tidings and bad etiquette, and if they didn’t find a way to start changing some things, the future probably had more of it in store for them. For the moment, it felt like the world was at an impasse, and all they could do to break out of it was gradually reach a point of understanding, but how many lifetimes were they all prepared to sacrifice to that?

Will left the store and stepped out onto the street. Blue skies were above, and grey clouds were ahead, which generally meant an ominous storm of some kind was brewing, which suggested that a swell was building up down at the beach. Will smiled to himself with the promise of large waves as he lifted his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. He wasn’t necessarily hooked on them, but it was something to do, something to preoccupy himself with while he leaned against walls. Will lit the cigarette with a match once he struck it against the side of his matchbox then set off down the street at a casual pace, fidgeting with the matchbox in his hand as he did. Sure, he knew of cigarette lighters, but he preferred the archaic way, it made him feel more sophisticated or something. Will pocketed the matches and looked ahead at the approaching storm, beginning to find himself excited for what the evening had to offer him, for the meantime though, he thought back to what the afternoon had. He didn’t truly believe that he had dozed off back in Madame Tilly’s office, he did feel as though he’d been hypnotised, but he couldn’t remember the slightest detail of what had happened during his hypnotised state, so it felt best to confirm he had only fallen asleep, although he did feel like a bit of a nasty-pasty after having seen Madame Tilly’s look of offence. He hadn’t meant to offend her, he just liked to keep his cards close to his chest.

Bill!

Will spotted the man who’d called him and saw it to be Gavin Marx, a sound guy, but one you didn’t really want to spend your time with if you could help it. Alright, Gav? Will asked as he walked over to where Gavin and some lassie sat outside an ice cream parlour enjoying the weather a distinct October offered them.

Always, Bill, Gavin beamed. This is Effie by the way.

Effie, Will smiled, immediately catching her green eyes and accidentally holding the stare for a moment longer than was necessary. Name’s Will.

Charmed, Effie smiled.

Will passed his cigarette into his left hand then politely shook hands with her before he looked back to Gavin with a pleasant sigh. Enjoying the day before that storm hits, are we?

You bet, Gavin nodded. Weatherman says it’s gonna be the worst we’ve had in years.

Which means the swell’s gonna be up, Will smiled.

You’re mad, Gavin snorted. I don’t get to the beach at any rate, let alone when there’s a thunderstorm stirring up trouble.

Trouble sounds good to me, Will replied, taking a quick drag of his cigarette before he continued. Anyway, pal. Won’t blow smoke in your face all day, I best be goin’.

Not a problem, Bill, Gavin smiled. See you this Saturday, yes?

For a drink? Will asked.

For anything! Gavin barked with a laugh.

Well, I was gonna meet Meera in the city with a couple of the others, so I bet I’ll see you around.

Great, Gavin smiled, raising his ice-cream in good tidings. Reckon I’ll be seeing you out then.

You got it, Will nodded. Anyway. Gav… Effie. He nodded at the couple then set off again, dragging heavily from his cigarette as he did. He remembered his first cigarette, how it had carved at his throat. Now, each dry inhale reassured him of something, he couldn’t be sure what this thing was, but it was worth the drag to say the least.

Will made his way through town at a steady pace, his mind adrift as he reflected on his meeting with Madame Tilly. His mother had indeed paid for and organised the session and it seemed like she was always doing stuff like that, but why not? His family had money looking to be spent and he was a worry so that’s who it got spent on. He wished his mother wouldn’t worry, he wished she’d leave him be, but he still lived under her roof, so whatever she said went, which was fair enough. Most people Will’s age had their own place by now, fulltime work and plenty of hopes and dreams to keep them stimulated. Sure, at twenty-two he was a bit too old to still be living with Mum and Dad, but the house was central for all his needs and pastimes, and as of yet, he hadn’t even been threatened with being kicked out.

Will soon came upon his home and saw Meera stretched out on the front lawn. He was of course glad to see her, as this was a surprise visit, but she lived on the other side of town with her mother and three sisters, so he found himself wondering what it was she was doing in the neighbourhood.

Will stepped onto his property and came to a stop once he was standing above Meera who seemed to be sunbaking or something. She wasn’t on a towel, just flat on her back with her hands clasped over her stomach and sunglasses over her eyes.

Meera, Will smiled, nudging her with his foot.

She stirred and he could only assume that her eyes were open as he couldn’t tell through her darkened sunglasses.

Alright, are we? he laughed.

Yeah, Meera smiled as she lifted her sunglasses onto the top of her head to reveal those striking blue eyes of hers and extended her hand towards him.

Will helped her to her feet and there she stood before him. They were friends with no call for a serious relationship so they never tended to kiss or hug upon introduction, although it went without saying that an adult relationship of sorts occurred behind closed doors and away from prying eyes. What brings you here? Will asked.

Work fired me, Meera smiled, shaking her head once to rid her eyesight of the black bangs that compromised it.

What? Will frowned. Why?

Wasn’t turning up, was I? she smiled. Stuff ‘em though, there’s plenty more I’d rather be doin’ than handling the elderly’s food and gettin dirty looks for my time.

You’re not washing your hands? Will asked naively.

Meera snorted. I reckon they’d just prefer it if blackfellas wore gloves.

Right, Will winced, painfully reminded of the unjust prejudices some people held. That's not why y—

No, that’s not why I got fired, Meera guffawed, slapping his arm. I was just referrin’ to some old hag from the other day, givin’ me the eyes and everythin’ while Miles is over handling as much fruit and veg as he can touch.

So, you were fired cos you weren’t showing up? Will asked, looking for confirmation.

Yeah, Meera sighed. I’ve dodged some shifts recently so I can study, so here I am. Without a dollar in my pocket and a free schedule.

Your mum know you’re here?

Nah, Meera shrugged. I left a note to say I was at Jayne’s.

Deceitful, Will noted.

Tactical, Meera corrected. As always.

Will snorted. God, he liked this girl; smart as all hell, hot to trot, and with a dash of humour to top it all off. His kind of lassie.

Your folks won’t mind if I hang around tonight, will they?

Nah, Will shrugged. They like you, you know that.

Like me so much they’ll make me dinner? Meera prodded.

Let’s find out, Will smiled. After you.

Meera stepped in front of him and led the way up the garden path and to the patio of the three-storey house. It was a remarkable establishment, a little extravagant but sincerely dignified if you liked white weatherboard topped with gray. Will’s parents had the cash for this kind of living and not a day went by that he wasn’t thankful for it, especially when he found himself at Meera’s house for the afternoon.

Will knocked on the door and waited for the reply, then thought screw it and let himself in with his spare key that he kept on his person. Ma? he called to the quiet house.

He frowned at the silence until a reply sounded from the lounge room above where his mother was undoubtedly nose-deep in a book. She and her husband were both massive fans of literature, which was why he was named after one of the greats, that being dear ol’ Bill Shakespeare.

Will and Meera headed straight through the entrance hall and up the carpeted stairs on the right that sat adjacent to the doorway that led into the dining area. Atop the stairs, the duo took a right down another hallway then the first right into the large living room complete with ostentatious bookshelf beside ostentatious bookshelf. Alright, Ma? Will smiled, spotting his mother sitting on the left side of the white sofa, her hair falling over her shoulders, her buttoned shirt and dress a tad too formal for the late afternoon.

His mother dog-eared the corner of her book and raised an eyebrow above her glasses as she looked up at her visitors. I am, she replied as she neatly placed her book beside her on the sofa. Meera, how are you?

I’m good, Mrs H.

And how’s the studying going?

Meera was a few years younger than Will, but the fact that she went to university and studied her arse off seemed to level them out in a way as he was far from having his shit sorted. Slow and steady, Meera shrugged, practically lying to his mother right in front of him.

His mother smiled in a proud response before looking back to Will all stern-like, scanning him with her brown eyes. How was Madame Tilly?

Will shrugged. Stimulating, he said sarcastically. She put me to sleep, literally, then… I left I guess, not much going on there.

Who’s Madame Tilly? Meera asked interestedly, joining herself in the family discussion before it got too personal and she was forced to play the invisible guest.

Some hypnotists, Will replied offhandedly. It was an attempt to beat my confrontational attitude, right, Ma?

And no luck? Meera frowned, acting the concerned friend.

Nah, Will smiled. It’ll take more than that to break me spirit.

Excuse me, Will’s mother growled, folding her hands in her lap and reminding him of the Godfather or something. If you can’t show me that you’ve matured, I will continue to look for ways to help you, and that includes the likes of fields you don’t hold in high regard.

Ah, c’mon, Ma, Will sighed. I went, didn’t I? I gave it a shot.

Will’s mother’s eyes narrowed at him. Meera, she started coldly before looking to her with a smile. Will you be having dinner with us tonight?

That’d be great, Mrs Hawke, Meera beamed.

I’ll pick up some supplies before the hour’s out, Will’s mother smiled pleasantly. Your father will be home later, she continued abruptly, looking to Will with warning eyes. Try to be positive about Madame Tilly and please try to not make her or I look the fool.

I won’t, Ma, Will groaned. Jeez, I’m not here to undermine you.

And yet… His mother sighed.

Will tried to refrain from smirking and succeeded without trouble. He looked to Meera. Beach for a few hours?

Sounds good to me, Meera smiled.

There’s a storm brewing, his mother cut in. You know how I don’t like you in the water when the tide’s in.

I’ll be out of the water before the storm hits, Will sighed in a lie, not needing to be mothered like this. We’ll be back by six-thirty.

Oh, I’m glad dinner will only be a little cold tonight, she replied dryly as she found the dog-ear in her novel and continued reading.

Will grinned at his easily antagonised mother then led the way from the living area with Meera in pursuit. He walked to the end of the hallway where his bedroom could be found, opened the door, ushered Meera inside, then closed it behind them.

Ergh, Meera smiled. It’s not great hangin’ out with you when your mum’s on your case, you know?

I can imagine, Will nodded as he strode over towards his wardrobe to acquire his wetsuit and whatnot. She gets more upset with me as each day passes, he continued. Reckons I’m on a crash-course for prison or criminal activity or something, just cos I got no job or direction in life, can you believe that? Will turned back around with his gear in hand to see Meera shaking her head with a chortle to accompany the action.

No, Will, I can’t.

Didn’t help that I got arrested the other week either.

You just need to know when to shut up and mind your own business, Meera reminded him.

I never have proper cause to, Will sighed. Policemen, security, they’re all on a power trip, looking for the little guy to provoke and intimidate while the real problems get off scot-free.

Meera raised an eyebrow. And we’re all so blessed to have you in our lives, Will.

He snorted. I’m just trying to be good to people.

Then be a policeman.

Will laughed. Right, cos that’s what I want to do.

Meera rolled her eyes.

Ah, c’mon, Will grinned. I’m twenty-two. I’ll get there.

It’s this privileged lifestyle of yours, Meera smiled, casting an eye about his room. It’s got you relaxin’ too long. I reckon if your mum wants to see a difference in you she needs to cut off your income and kick you out.

Ooh, Will whispered. Don’t tell her that.

I’m not gonna, Meera snorted.

It’s just… Will sighed. Ma and Pa don’t always agree on my upbringing. I mean Ma was raised in a poor family but Pa was raised with money like me, so he was brought up under similar circumstances, he thinks I’ll find my way, but Ma thinks I’ve already lost it.

Meera shrugged. Well, I guess despite everything I gotta agree with your dad… I think you’re doin’ alright. You’re an idiot, but you’re doin’ alright.

Will smiled. Thanks, Meera. He looked at the lass for a while, thinking about his upbringing, his parents specifically. His dad was from a rich Irish family who had a crest and everything; the Hawke family crest, he was basically born with a silver spoon in his mouth, same as his son. His father had never had a problem with anything in the world, but his heart was in the right place, and he was properly book smart. Will’s mother was Native American, her family making it into Ireland illegally before establishing a settlement there and securing citizenship before it was time his mother went to school. Through school, his parents had met and fallen in love without a thought, and the two of them had had a child right before their shotgun wedding to please the parents and in-laws. It hadn’t fallen to pieces once Will had come into the picture, it had only strengthened their marriage, and now the two of them were both free of their parents, starting a life in Queensland where everything just seemed… more peaceful. Will missed his old school friends, sure, but he’d made good connections here during his five years of residency, he’d enjoyed himself, and he had Meera. He didn’t feel pressured into getting his life moving, nor was he restricted by any shortcomings. The world was his oyster, but all Will wanted to do was meet people and enjoy himself, he wanted to surf, day in, day out, and not give a toss about anything. He just wanted to enjoy the company of his friends and have the knowledge that everything was, and was always going to be, okay.

He and Meera joined before his bed and fell onto it as one, their lips finding each other’s without hesitation.

Will led a relaxed life. A good life.

Storm Surfers

It was a short drive to the beach, a bit over five minutes. Will’s surfboard was secure atop the 1985 Jeep Cherokee, a damn fine model and – in his books – the car to beat. It technically belonged to his dad, but his dad almost exclusively drove the 1990 Mustang Convertible so it never concerned him when Will took the Cherokee out.

I don’t like the look of that storm, Meera remarked.

Will ducked his head down slightly to get a better view of the horizon below the roof. You kiddin’, Meera? It’ll be fine. Check it out, you can already see how good the swell is from here.

I can see how dangerous it is, Meera humphed.

Dangerous? Will exclaimed. Fifty bucks says Osmo and Darla are down there already.

Don’t bet your parents’ money, Will.

He spluttered at that. Get off my back Meera, he said with a laugh. It’s their job to be on my case, not yours!

Meera shrugged and didn’t make another comment, so Will reached for the radio, tuning it to his favourite station to find that ‘(Everything I do) I do it for you’ by Bryan Adams was playing, right near the chorus, too. A stupid grin found his face as he turned up the station and looked over at Meera who clammed up immediately, knowing that he was about to sing the upcoming chorus in as melodramatic a way as he could manage, and by golly did he go for it. Between shared glances with Meera and the road, he sung his bleeding heart out, his display rivalling that of something between a lovesick romantic and an obnoxious drunkard until finally he broke through her stony demeanour and got a reaction, just not the one any true performer was after.

Oh my God, Will, Meera exclaimed exhaustedly.

He laughed with absolute delight. I mean it, baby, that’s straight from the heart.

Straight from your arse, Meera corrected.

Will snorted with amusement but didn’t pursue the topic as he trained his focus back on the road, not wanting to piss Meera off more than he had already. She always got like this when he went storm surfing, which was rarely, if he was being totally honest. She was like his mother… Yeesh! Not a happy thought at all.

Will directed the Cherokee through the last narrow path then down onto the dunes by the cliffs. It was a pretty secluded spot, not illegal or a private property or anything, people just didn’t tend to surf around here. Couples could be seen exploring the cliffs every now and then, but for the most part Will and his friends had their very own private beach, which meant bonfires and tents were usually set up to see them through into the night, not to mention the bountiful cartons of the finest beers and spirits that Queensland had to offer.

See? Will noted as he parked the car, pulled the handbrake on and turned the engine off. Told you. Lois is here too.

They’re always here, Meera pointed out as she unbuckled her belt and got out of the car, slamming the door behind her.

So? Will sighed as he opened the driver’s door and closed it behind him once his bare feet were in the grassy sand. Bet you’re glad you didn’t take that bet.

When have I ever taken a bet with you? Meera challenged.

Will smiled at her look of annoyance. You’re pretty when you’re irritable, he informed her.

Meera could have tried hiding the smile, but it didn’t do her any good. She turned to the beach and waved down at Osmo, Darla and Lois who had already clocked the new arrivals.

Will waved as well before he opened the back door of the Cherokee and pulled out his wetsuit that he quickly climbed into; the skies above them now greying as the storm loomed closer. It was still nice out though, classic Queensland, it could be pouring down and it’d still be the perfect weather for a pint or two.

Alright, Will declared as he slammed the car door closed and stepped up onto the back wheel of the Cherokee to free his surfboard from the roof racks. Let’s do this.

He hopped down to the sand with his surfboard under his arm as Meera rounded the car to join him.

Don’t go leavin’ me to get rained on while you’re surfing, she told him.

Right, Will nodded as he handed her the keys. You look after these then and you can put yourself in the car if I’m not back yet.

Meera gave him a look. I’m starting to think this isn’t a great use of my time. I could be studying.

Why’d you come over then? Will laughed. C’mon, I doubt Darla’s surfing. Just hang out with her.

And get rained on, Meera sighed. Yeah, sounds great.

Will smiled. Fine, I’ll catch a few waves then I’ll come back in so we can head home before the storm hits.

Meera raised a doubtful eyebrow. I feel like I’ve heard that before.

Well, maybe, Will admitted. C’mon, let’s go. He motioned towards the beach and Meera sighed before she followed at his side. The duo made their way down the dunes as Will’s penchant for danger rose at the sight of the swell and dark clouds. He’d been storm surfing three times before and it was incredible how much it got your heart racing. It was impossible to have any control over the ocean at the best of times and that was especially profound when you rode waves during a storm. The swirl could drown you, suffocate you below the tide, hold you there… Man, it was incredible stuff. The ocean seemed to embody all Will believed in: The openness, the unpredictability, the freedom. It made him feel at peace to be amongst it, it reminded him how large and how empty the world was despite what was said about it. The ocean didn’t evolve, it only crashed upon the shore.

Alright, Osmo? Will called once he was within listening distance. Darla? Lois?

Was wonderin’ when you was gonna show up, Osmo grinned as Will and Meera trudged through the sand to their position, where Will planted the bottom of his surfboard into the sand like the almighty sword of Excalibur.

Wouldn’t miss a storm like this, Will grinned, not being able to repress his enthusiasm as he clapped hands with Lois and grinned over at Darla.

Hell no, Lois agreed. Storm like this comes through once in a blue moon. Telly said it was gonna be the biggest of the last few decades.

Let’s get into it then, Osmo smirked as he picked up his board and planted his lips on Darla’s cheek. "Storms above us and that swell is pumpin’."

Will didn’t need any more persuasion and ripped his board out of the sand, looking to Meera with a grin. Won’t be long, dearie, he declared.

He only got rolling eyes in response.

Will shrugged a smile then set off towards the water’s edge with Osmo and Lois at his side.

How’s Meera doin’? Osmo asked in an undertone, his hazel eyes darting back to the girls. The two of youse still goin’ steady?

As ever, Will nodded. But I don’t want a relationship, neither does she… I think she’s ready to call it off and throw herself into those exams. There was a plummet in his stomach upon the casual mentioning of something that would probably break his heart.

When are they? Lois asked, momentarily stopping so that she could tie a knot with her blonde hair at the back of her head. Once done, she re-equipped her board and the three of them continued.

Soon I think, Will shrugged. I dunno, I don’t really pay attention when she goes on about that business crap.

The trio came to the foot of the ocean faster than they would usually as the tide was already in. Look at those waves, dude, Osmo moaned as he began to wade through the shallower water, wave after wave slapping against his calves as he trudged onward, Lois and Will in pursuit, who nodded at the statement but didn’t give much more to add to the conversation as the scenery spoke for itself. There was a rip over by the cliff face, a known hazard to Will and his surfer buddies who always tried their best to stay on top of nature’s proclivity for danger. The rip tended to pull you over towards it which made surfing dangerous as the waves sometimes broke against the cliff face when the tide was in. No matter though, Will was a pro at this shit now, he knew how to surf and what dangers to avoid like a pianist knew the fifty-two keys of ivory.

Having now waded in far enough, Will slapped his board down onto the surface of the water and laid himself atop it, immediately beginning to paddle onwards with Osmo beside him and Lois lagging behind a bit, having always appreciated her personal space during surfing sessions. Due to the choppy water, they had a hard time paddling, but once they passed the break the three friends were able to paddle on uninhibited until they came to a stop, simultaneously sitting atop their boards while they waited for their ideal wave, ready to reap the rewards of the storm.

Dibs the first one, Will remarked.

Can’t do that, Osmo exclaimed. You gotta see it first.

And I will, Will assured him. I’m just letting you know.

Cocky prick, Lois called from her vantage point a few metres away, getting a laugh from Osmo while they continued their wait, the sky now nothing but grey, the temperature still humid.

Check it out, Osmo declared, pointing over Will’s shoulder.

He turned slightly but saw nothing. What was—

He was cut short when the rumbling sound of thunder took place, insinuating that Osmo had seen a streak of lightning zigzag towards the water. Lois made a big ‘wooing’ noise at the sight of it while Will laughed. Feelin’ it now! he roared, his heart racing with excitement.

Hell yeah! Osmo laughed with delight, slapping the water with his fist. Now all w—

Dibs! Will interrupted upon spotting the sizeable four and a half metre wave approaching.

Aw, you bloody shamrock, Osmo cursed. Beat me to the punch again.

I always do, ya big bogan, Will smiled.

Osmo snorted his contempt for being called such a thing as Will paddled forward, his eyes on the rising wave ahead. As it neared, he paddled faster, an irrepressible grin on his face, and before he knew it he’d popped up on the board and was cutting across the wave with style, riding it towards its inevitable break. Will was the mountain goat of balance and found it no problem to stay steady atop his board, even in the most torrential of conditions.

Man, it felt good to surf. It was the briefest, most wondrous experience – for a moment you were up there, you were God, then before you knew it, you were back in the water, paddling towards your mate on a high of good vibes.

And so it was.

The ride was over, and Will was paddling back through the water to his friend, human once more.

On approach, Osmo said something incomprehensible.

What? Will asked as he arrived and sat atop his board.

Girls are getting wet, Osmo repeated as he pointed towards the shore where heavy rain had begun to fall, unnoticed by Will.

Meera’ll wait in the car, he replied as he peered at the girls in the distance. I’ll surf a few more waves than I’ll head in.

Likely, Osmo smirked.

Will smiled back before the two again looked to the horizon where Lois could be seen tackling a wave of about the same height as Will’s.

Before long, the next ideal wave presented itself, standing at about five metres. Will let Osmo have this one and waited with a smile on his face as the guy approached it. He was a strong surfer, far better than Will, who could surf alright but kind of fell to pieces when it came to fancy moves and endurance, Osmo however, rode that wave for what felt like five minutes, it was damned impressive. He looked back to the horizon and pinpointed another wave that looked as though it would reach about five metres on its break. He went for it before Osmo and even Lois returned and the trio continued this system for a while, not regrouping for about three waves each until Will decided he’d better wait for his pals. The swell was going mental, waves were reaching about six metres now, some even verging on seven and crashing a lot closer to the shore than the others. The rain was bucketing down as well, hitting the water with such ferocity that there could have been a gang of angels shooting them with paintball guns from above. The girls were in the car by this point, and sure, Will felt bad about not being true to his word, but he couldn’t pass up a swell like this. Still though, only a couple more.

Lois paddled towards him and sat up on her board, pulling her sodden hair away from her face as she did and redoing her hair back in a bun. Wait for Osmo?

Good thinking, Will nodded. The weather’s going rotten so it’s probably best if we stay together.

Lois nodded, seeming breathless.

Will had to agree with her on the action as he’d certainly had trouble getting his breath back upon returning to their waiting point.

Here he is, Lois declared as Osmo was revealed after the break paddling back towards them.

Once the trio was assembled, they all talked in great over-exaggeration about the size of their waves; Osmo, as always, was being modest about the way he’d tackled his rides, Lois was being arrogant, and Will was being ecstatic, never one to skive off on details. After a while, they decided they’d better call it a night as the storm wasn’t subsiding and it was getting to the point where the water was getting too dangerous, even for them.

There we go, Lois pointed.

Will followed her finger and gaped at the growing wave.

Jeez, that’d get to eight metres, easy, Osmo remarked.

Dibs, Will declared.

Well, I saw it first, didn’t I? Lois smirked.

And you’re gonna ride that bad boy to shore? Will asked, looking to her doubtfully.

Lois snorted, Nah, dude. I’m done.

It’s mine then, Will deliberated as he looked back to the wave. See you on the sand, guys. And with that, he paddled forward, his heart racing at the prospect of riding such a wave. His largest probably stood at about six and a half metres, so this was a huge step up, and one he felt he was strong enough to tackle. Will followed the wave to the left, his eyes upon it as he paddled. He was pretty sure he could hear people calling out from behind him, but he ignored them as he needed to be properly focused for a mother such as this, so he continued paddling, waiting for when he met the wave and he’d be able to join it in its quest for the shore.

The wave came upon him, and Will was already standing as it lifted him, growing in height. Shit, he was high up, but good God was he flying. This was the wave, this was why he was here, why he surfed, for this moment.

Will had full control over the wave as he shot across it and it broke behind him. He looked to his left back towards the beach and his face dropped, only now realising what was probably being yelled at him before.

He was near the cliff, having been unknowingly pulled in by the rip while he was lost in the adrenaline rush of storm surfing. At this point he couldn’t go back, his only hope to survive injury was to ride the wave onwards, pass the rocks completely, and meet with the beach further up the coast. He was going to get his ear blown off by Meera when he got back, the walk back to the car would take about an hour and his friends wouldn’t know what had happened to him during that time. Already he could envisage Osmo calming them down saying he was okay, but for the moment… Will relaxed himself and focused his full attention on riding the wave. If he drifted off, he’d lose control, then he’d fall off the board and be thrown into the rocks, maybe even the cliff judging by how ferocious this wave was showboating around.

The board shuddered again and Will swallowed nervously, starting to question his own skill and whether or not he’d overestimated himself. The break was on his arse, right behind him, looking to trip him up, now breaking faster than he could cross it and he was nowhere near out of range of the rocks.

If he fell off now…

The board was staggered again and Will contemplated ditching it, jumping back over the wave, and praying that he’d be able to make it back to shore without his lungs full of saltwater. He could get a replacement board, he was due for a new one anyway, but he was shackled to it, his ankle tied to it by a steadily wearing Velcro strap. He was now practically inside the wave, it was looming over him, swallowing him up, his only hope now was to ride it up the coast, but even that road was paved with disaster.

Before any decision could be made, the wave broke atop of him and the board shot out from underneath his feet, the worn Velcro becoming undone in the severity of the movement. Will slammed into the water, seeming to skid across it for a moment before he was completely enveloped by the wave. His vision was immediately compromised, the taste of saltwater heavy in his mouth, his nose on fire as if he’d struck it against something. His board? He was pretty sure it had shot ahead but it could have also been bundled up with the wave and come back to connect with him. Will’s vision faded slightly upon his realisation that he hadn’t drawn breath in a while. The wave was stronger than him, the current was pulling him towards the rocks of the cliff, and there was nothing he could do to prevent it. Supposedly, you’re supposed to swim with the current in a jam like this, but considering the scenario, it was hard to imagine how that would be at all beneficial to him.

All Will could see was black and rushing grey, all he could do was flounder about in desperation, then he hit rock.

A great deal of saltwater was swallowed upon the connection as the wave continued past him, through the rocks and towards the cliff. Will was slammed across a rocky surface and was continuously bundled forward by the wave. He couldn’t exactly picture where he was being carried as a searing pain carved at his entire body, his head felt as though it was on fire, perhaps he’d hit it and he was only now noticing.

Will then found himself between rocks, falling, free of the water for a moment before he fell back into it, he came to a jarring halt and realised there was nowhere else for him to go. Will had no more breath in his lungs so he choked on the salt of the ocean, eyes wide with fear as he noticed a tinge of red to the water in his vicinity.

God, was he bleeding?

He was trapped here, beneath the water, below the tide.

But no, that was the surface.

With the current still slamming against him, his lungs filling with water and his sinuses exploding with pain, it took a great deal of effort to pull his head above the surface of the rushing waves, but he eventually managed it and found himself against the cliff face, atop a rock with the water slamming into his chest.

The tide would pull back in a moment once the next wave was called upon, but until then Will was trapped here with the ocean continuing to thrash against him. But then his vision faded. He couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop it. He’d just taken all he could take. Without being able to prevent it, his body slipped, and he collapsed beneath the water once more, a darkness unlike any he’d ever known enveloping his conscious mind as the ocean continued to rush him.

And that was it.

His life.