“What a year it has been.” Twelve
year old John William thought to himself. He sat in his uncle’s cozy living room
with a dusty old book on his lap and his favorite fluffy dog, Sam sleeping at
his feet. It was an eventful year; he discovered Azra’s Pith, the most
wonderful place imaginable. He was captured by pirates,
resulting in a battle John William could never have conjured in his wildest
dreams.
He missed the fresh smells of the lush trees in Copious forest and the stars splashed across the sky, reflecting off the river at night. He missed the magic that made every moment
extraordinary. More than anything, he longed to see his best friends, Celeste
and Ferdinand. All of the adventure in Azra’s pith made being at his uncle’s
house rather uneventful. After his father’s mysterious disappearance a year
ago, it was just the two of them, and Sam, Uncle Andrew’s fluffy sheep
dog.
John William’s mother had passed
away from illness a couple years back. Loss and heartache were becoming unwelcome
friends in John William’s life. He was determined to find his father as long
has there was a sliver of hope that he was alive.
On occasion he would visit the
Drake estate up the road, the home he once shared with his mother and father. It was run down from neglect over the
last couple years. He still enjoyed perusing the old books in the grand
study. He also felt compelled to look after Shrewee, the old creature living in
a secret hatch carved in the ceiling. He never stayed too long as the memory of
his parents presence in the now empty home stung too much. The disappearance of his father ate away at
John William every minute of the day. He needed answers and knew exactly where
to find them.
He glanced through his reddish
brown curls at his uncle who was sitting directly across from him immersed in a
book. That awful tension returned to his chest. Taking a deep breath was not
clearing it out anymore.
Like a lead brick, it sat without
budging and would most likely remain until he got down to the bottom of things and
he had a hunch that he should start with his uncle’s arms. If what he discovered in Azra’s Pith was
correct, they carried something significant. He let out a subtle cough,
pretending to clear his throat. His uncle briefly glanced up from his book.
“So, do you know what I’ve noticed?
You never wear short sleeves. In all of my twelve years, I don’t recall ever
seeing your arms without sleeves.” John William glanced at his uncles long sleeves
securely buttoned at his wrist.
“Is that a fact? Huh, well maybe it
is because I have no arms… just feeble wooden toothpicks under these sleeves.”
His Uncle Andrew replied with a chuckle.
John William was not interesting in
joking around. “Can I see?” he asked.
“Pardon?” Uncle Andrew’s light
hearted smile faded.
“Your arms… can I see them?” He
asked again in a serious tone. He was growing inpatient. Since returning from
Azra’s Pith John William learned quickly that his Uncle Andrew has an unhealthy
habit of brushing important matters under the rug.
“What is this about, John William?” Uncle
Andrew played with the buttons of his shirt cuffed at his wrist.
“I think you know what I am looking for.” John
William slammed his book shut and thumped it at his ankles causing Sam to
twitch and snort in his sleep.
“Oh? Is that so?” Uncle Andrew
unbuttoned his cuff and pulled one sleeve up to expose his arm. “See…? Here it
is − my bare arm. Is this what you expected?”
John William sat back in his seat.
What he saw was not at all what he expected ─ claw marks and scars covered it
from fingertip to elbow. “Can, can I see the other one?” John William did not
usually carry a harsh tone with his uncle; but he could not help it. The
betrayal he suspected his uncle was guilty of was unforgivable in his eyes. “I
told you where I was when I returned. You have yet to say a word about it. Why
do you pretend Azra’s Pith does not exist?”
“Oh, we are speaking of this
again?” His uncle sighed and shook his head. “I’m pretty tired; I think I’ll
turn in for the night. We can discuss it tomorrow?”
“No, no we can’t. Please, your
other arm… I need to see it.” John William stiffened his posture.
“Okay, John William, you win.” His
uncle undid the button around his wrist, loosening his cuff.
John William scooted to the edge of
his seat and watched with anticipation as Uncle Andrew rolled his sleeve up his
arm, one perfectly creased fold at a time. Once the fold reached his elbow, his
uncle extended his exposed arm.
John William gasped. “So it is
true; you are a guardian.” Marked permanently on his arm was an intricate pair
of feathered wings − the symbol of the guardian. John William leaped from his seat and clutched
his uncle’s arm. The same claw marks and scrapes covered the entire length both
arms.
Uncle Andrew pulled his arm away
and covered it before any more details could be seen. “It was never my
intention to deceive you or your father. You must know that his happiness has
always been top priority for me. Any knowledge of this would have destroyed
him. He wanted more than anything to be a guardian, like our father. I thought
it was best if kept secret.”
John William’s anger faded to
empathy and curiosity. He returned to
his seat and sat back in a huff. “You’re right, Azra’s Pith is
everything to him.”
“I don’t know why our fates were
not different; and not a day goes by with out me wishing it was Chrissy who was
given the role instead of myself.” His uncle grabbed a picture of him and his
brother from the table next to his chair. The name Chrissy was a term of
endearment John William’s uncle had for his father, who’s actual name was
Christopher. They were always very close; all of the Drake boys shared a love
of adventure. John William looked up to his father and uncle with great
admiration. Of course, this year has shattered every certainty he held in his
world. Every step going forward was into the unknown.
“I believe he is searching for
Copia,” said John William.
“I don’t doubt that; he will have a
lot of trouble finding it without the rest of the map,” his uncle replied. “If
he still alive, that is....”
“Well, that’s the thing, I’m pretty
sure he has the complete map. I found his tracing tools at the Ruins of
Stonewood.”
“What? He always was a clever
fellow.” A broad smile stretched across Uncle Andrew’s face. “He left those
behind on purpose; I’m sure of it. He wants you to find him.”
“I need to find the other half of
the map… remember? That night in the study?”
John William raised his brow. The night before his father disappeared he
showed them the half of a map to Copia. “He has that map; I need to find the
stone it is carved in. It was broken off at the ruins.” John William pulled a
tattered sheet of paper with the outline of a portion of a map. “I found this
part of the stone at the Ruins and traced it.”
“Yes, I do remember that. I had no
idea he had that map. Your grandfather must have slipped it in that book… crazy old
coot.” Uncle Andrew replied in a discouraged tone.
“Why don’t you come with me? We can
find him together.” John William smiled.
His uncle’s face hardened. “I can
never return. I barely escaped with my life the last time I was there.” He
rolled up his sleeve, revealing the scars on his arms. “I can not emphasize the
dangers enough. Copia holds tremendous energy ─ some good, some extremely evil.
It must never, ever be found.”
“What are those scars on your arm?”
John William asked reluctantly.
“The claws of hundreds of shadow
jumpers… vicious beasts that hide in the shadows. They hunted me relentlessly
when I had possession of the medallion.”
“You mean the Copian Medallion?”
John William’s asked.
“Yes, being the fool that I
am, I tried to take the medallion out of Azra’s Pith. I thought it would be
safer here. Once I traveled through passageway, the Medallion vanished.” He
rubbed his hands together and took a deep breath. “When I returned to look for
the medallion, it was gone. I still have no idea what happened to it.”
John William Cringed. “Well… I
think I might know who has it now.”
Uncle Andrew jolted up in his seat.
“What do you mean, who? My hope is that no one has it.”
“My friend, Celeste may have found
it. Don’t worry, she is keeping it safe.” John William squirmed.
Uncle Andrew’s usual warm, friendly
face turned stone cold. “She is in danger as long as she holds the medallion. This
matter is not to be trifled with. She
needs to hide the medallion somewhere it can never be found… by man, creature,
or magic.” He stood up and stepped over to a large painting of Fern Forest
“Um, is everything okay?” John
William watched with a puzzled expression as his uncle gripped the frame.
“Speak of this to no one ─ not even
your father… especially not your father.” He swiftly pulled the painting from its
latch revealing a cabinet tucked into the wall.
John William gasped. “How long has
that been there?”
“As long as I can remember; your
great grandfather shared it with me after my first trip to Azra’s Pith,” said
Uncle Andrew. The cabinet let out a high pitch squeak as he swung it open. Inside
was a cluttered pile of rolled up papers, books and other objects in the
shadows John William could not make out. Just as he stood up to get a closer
look, Uncle Andrew snagged a group of rolled papers and hastily shut the door. “Some
things are better left unseen.” He muttered.
John William let out a disappointed
sigh. “Fair enough, I suppose. What are those?”
“I’m hoping there is another copy
of the map in this stack. If not, you might be out of luck.” Uncle Andrew
carefully peered through each role of paper without opening a single one.
John William fidgeted anxiously. He
wanted so badly to see what was on those papers. “Can’t I have a quick look?”
“Just as I suspected ─ your father
has the only copy.” His uncle muttered, ignoring John William’s request. He
stuffed them all back in the cabinet, and pulled a small leather sack out before securing the door shut.
“What is that?” John William asked.
Uncle Andrew tossed the sack over
to John William. “Go ahead, open it.”
John William pulled the straps
along the top and loosened the slack. Inside was a deep blue stone, so clear he
could see his fingers through the stone. “Amazing…,” he stroked the smooth surface.
“It’s a locator stone.” Uncle Andrew’s eyes sparkled. “Your
grandfather gave that to me. He said it would only work for Guardians; but at
this point I think it’s your only hope. It certainly couldn’t hurt to try.” He took the
stone and examined it.
“How do I use it?”
“All you have to do is take it out
of the sack. As long as you are in Azra’s Pith,
it will show you the way. Hopefully your grandfather was wrong.” He handed
the stone back to John William. “Keep it safe; and when you’re ready, use it
well.”
“I will… I promise.” John William
secured the stone in the sack and extended his thin limbs to a good, long
stretch. “I’ve been seeing the sparks in Fern Forrest… no sign of Ferdinand
yet, though. I hope he returns soon.”
“If you know Ferdinand like I do,
he arrives at the exact time his intends to, he’s never, ever late, and he does
not like to be kept waiting.” Uncle Andrew smiled. “Does this mean you will be
leaving me and Sam again?”
John William nodded. “I have to.”
“I know; you better get some sleep.
I will help you prepare in the morning.”
John William shuffled to his room
and sat at the base of the window. The rays of the moon pierced the trees
giving Fern Forest
* * * *
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