[Mkguild] Birth III

[christian okane]

Ok. I am both confused and excited. Who is the Ragman? I doubt it's just a hallucination. It's a real person?

 

 

Chris

The Lurking Fox

 

From: mkguild-bounces at lists.integral.org [mailto:mkguild-bounces at lists.integral.org] On Behalf Of Jack Moore
Sent: Tuesday, December 02, 2014 7:15 PM
To: mkguild at lists.integral.org
Subject: [Mkguild] Birth III

 

AN: Any thoughts yet?

 

There was a bite in the air and the ground was slick. The underbrush and colors 

of the trees crackled against the gray clouds. I stole away into the woods, grateful for the 

few minutes I had. 

 

I can remember every time I've gone into the woods. There is something 

liberating and terrifying about them. These I felt even more that way. Lovely and dark, 

the water dripping off branches created a cacophony. I hopped up onto a long and tried 

balancing on it.

 

"I wish I could stay out here." I tried walking along the top of the log, only to 

stumble. I hopped down again. "Why do I have to do this? I don't know…."

 

A bird shrieked above me. I glanced up in time to see a red-shouldered hawk take 

off from a branch and fly away. "Ulysses could catch you. You may be bigger but he's 

faster. I've got my glove…"

 

Ulysses was my red-tailed hawk. Much like Holofernes, he was named by Nemo. 

I didn't know the name but I liked saying it. 

 

I had my hawking glove with me, not with me at that moment but at the camp. 

There is nothing quite like the thrill of watching your bird lift off and from there rise to a 

high pitch into a steep stoop.

 

"Ulysses will be released soon." I mumbled. "I wish he could take me with 

him…"

 

When you live your life as I do, being alone may be a blessing or a curse. Mostly 

it depends on if you can block your own thoughts out. If you can't, you spend the time 

surrounded by beauty you can't take in because your worries are pounding away inside of 

your head. If you're lucky you will get small distractions to block out your thoughts, 

before they come crashing back.

 

The hawk was one such distraction. As it took off, my gaze stuck with it. 

"You're lucky. You don't have to worry about anything do you?"

 

I sat down on the log. Now my mind turned to the cursed valley itself. You'd 

never have to leave would you…

 

Isenport is a lovely place, a wonderful port and a place where goods and 

information pass through regularly. It's a place where people die in bar fights and sailors 

kill the hookers they've knocked up. From there, I could know about the rest of the 

world by listening to rumors that came through.

 

I had actually heard of Metamor Keep, though what I heard made no sense. The 

people turn into animals. No they turn into children. No the city can't stay the same size. 

No it's under assault and there's a magic snow storm. 

 

All nonsense of course. I knew it was.

 

"Are we meeting with someone from the cursed city?" I mumbled. "Well if that's 

the case, why does this meeting have to be a secret? What could we even offer them?" 

Money. "What could they offer us?" Lots of things.

 

I hopped back up. "What is my father thinking? He's going to get us killed."

 

I started walking along the edge of the log again. "I'll just tell him I'm not going 

on…and then what? I have to go back eventually." A hawk screeched again. I looked 

up to see it fly against the sun, framed by a break in the trees.

 

"Beautiful." I whispered as I watched the bird fly above the trees. "I want to go 

with you." I looked away, back to the long. I walked to the edge and pause.

 

The log stuck slightly over the edge of a ravine. A large rock jutted out of the 

water soaked bottom. The log wobbled when I stood on the edge.

 

"I want to go with you…" I hovered on the edge of the wood. "Can I go with you?"

 

 

Let us go to the next scene. Now, gentle reader, comes the strange part. I know 

you're questioning all the detail; it will make sense later. This section though I'm not 

sure how to explain. I'll just tell you about it as it happened.

 

I awoke to find I was laying on my back. I was very warm and now in a room of 

white stone. Alabaster. 

 

"Hello Jack."

 

"My name is James."

 

"So you say." I glanced over my body, no blood or torn clothes. Slowly I stood 

up. I looked around. The room was circular and smooth, clean white alabaster. Behind 

me was one entrance way. 

 

In the center of the room was a massive table, covered in crystal figurines. They 

shone in the light, hundreds or maybe thousands of them. Maybe tens of thousands, 

every time I looked I couldn't see the size. Some were animals, some were people, all 

were exquisitely carved. "It's a wonderful collection. Not mine; it does not belong to 

anyone." I looked up.

 

Sitting behind the table was a…figure in a massive coat, hat, gloves and scarf, all 

raggedy looking. This pile of rags covered the figure so well, I couldn't see their face. 

They held a large flute and had their chair positioned in front of the second entrance way.

 

"I've been waiting for you." The rag man said. "You took a long time, very 

rude."

 

"I'm sorry?" I slowly approached the channel, still glancing around. "Where am 

I? I fell and hit my head…"

 

"You are in a place." I frowned.

 

"Wonderful answer. Why am I here?" I picked up one of the figures from the 

table. A fox, looking worried. It had something human about it.

 

"That one's not yours."

 

"I like foxes." I mumbled. The crystal radiated warmth. With some reluctance I 

placed it back. My hand was drawn to another figure, a child holding a pointy stick. 

Along the neck of the figure was a thick crack.

 

"Getting closer." The ragman said. "Still not for you."

 

"It's cracked." I said. "It's gotta…gotta get fixed. Wow I'm tired."

 

"I'm not surprised. It's not easy for you right now. If you want to fix it I'd 

suggest trying later."

 

"Don't know how to do, uh, do you forge crystal? Or…okay how do you fix 

crystal?" The ragman laughed.

 

"Wow you don't know many things." I put the child down and took a closer look. 

Now I could see many were flawed with cracks over the eyes or missing ears. Some had 

cracks over the eyes or seemed to be a mesh of genders. Why do they look so beautiful?

My hand reached out again.  Finally I picked up a small one that seemed…odd.

 

It was a lizard man, maybe a dragon man with a massive frill along the neck. It 

held in its hand another pointed stick.

 

"You have found yourself." The ragman said.

 

"I hit my head." I said. "Is this real?"

 

"Could be." I sat down in a chair that appeared under me. "Uh thanks."

 

"I wouldn't want you thinking me a bad host Jack." The ragman said. "Mostly I 

brought you here because I wished to meet you. We will speak more later, before the 

unpleasantness."

 

"Still not my name."

 

"Let me ask you something Jack, what do you want to be?" I frowned.

 

"That's a stupid question."

 

"Is it? Do you want to be transformed?" 

 

"I want to be someone whose not got a head injury and talking to…what do you 

call them? People who aren't there?"

 

"You believe me to be a hallucination?" The ragman shook his head. "Well I 

suppose you can't know I am. Everything I'm saying could be a lie, especially the lies."

 

"Is there a point to this?"

 

"To force questions." The ragman said. "Transformation is a wonderful thing. It 

allows us a chance to become who we want, to change who we are. If you never learn to 

question, the effect shall be lost."

 

"I'm not interested in transforming."

 

"Aren't you?" The ragman tilted his head. "Strange. I suspect this too shall 

change."

 

"Why are you dressed as a rejected series of swatches?" I asked. "I could sew 

better clothing than that."

 

"Aren't you supposed to be the masculine, modern son of a lord, not interested in 

feminine arts." I frowned. "I'm just observing. I'm amazed. You've been allowed to 

learn a skill of your choice."

 

"What does that mean?"

 

"Just that I question if you're an actor in your own life." The ragman said. "Well 

it's really of no matter. If you're not, you'd best learn how to be."

 

"Let me out of here you freak!"

 

"I also wouldn't use that terminology. You can hurt people's feelings you know." 

The ragman's blew into his flute, creating a high pitched whine. I grabbed my ears. "It's 

still out of tune."

 

"What are you talking about?"

 

"Nothing much. It's time to go." The ragman reached out and tapped the wall 

with his flute.

 

Instantly the room began to tilt. The table and chairs and figures didn't slip. I 

did. I grabbed at my chair as I began to tumble out.

 

"What do you think you're doing!?"

 

"Helping you along." The ragman said. "If you don't get a little push you'll never 

move forward." The room turned until the table was suspended sideways. I held onto the 

chair for dear life.

 

"Help me!"

 

"I am." The ragman grabbed a crystal figure from the table. "Bye-bye." The figure smacked me between the eyes. My fingers slipped free.

 

My scream echoed as the lizard figure and I spiraled into the abyss.

 

AN: I enjoyed writing this scene. Anyone who wants to guess at ragman, feel free to do so.

 

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