THE MAP
"Whitecraft, look at this. This might be just what we've been looking for in the prophecy. The most peculiar, and it seems ever so impossible thing is that they seem to know about all of Alaria without even knowing it actually exists!"
Reserve, Longspur Ave
Matt walked the dense shrubbery, followed by his friends Simon and Valora. They couldn't see the sky as it was shrouded in dull grey clouds and the branches above them. Pushing the thorny branches away, they brought themselves to a clearing. The trees were built around it like walls, and the overhanging branches formed a roof. The leaves had created a soft floor. Every step you took, you heard leaves crackling under their feet.
Simon took his usual place up a tree at the other end of the room. Valora sat on a lower branch at the entrance, and Matt sat down on his tree stump. Ever since they discovered this place, they had improved and cleaned it until it became like this. No one knew about they thought, as this was their place. A place where they could go to think over problems, solve them and focus in a quiet area.
"So, what should we do now?" asked Simon, his brown hair flailing in the gentle wind. Valora looked up at him.
"Just wait a sec. I need to talk to Kestral about something." She said and gazed upwards dreamily. She was contacting Kestral telepathically. Kestral was an imaginary friend, a griffon. When they met, they discovered they had more in common than they thought. It almost seemed they were meant to meet. After learning they both had an imaginary friend, they instantly became friends. They told each other of them. Kestral was Valora's, a mighty but kind hearted beast.
Matt's friend was the wisest and quickest of all mythical creatures. He was an air dragon, named Whitecraft. Matt had never told anyone of a special secret between him and Whitecraft. Every time he thought of him, it seemed as if the name was like a half forgotten memory, like it was almost… real. Little did he know that Whitecraft lived, breathed and was looking for him.
Simon's friend was a creature of pure strength and power. A Minotaur it was. His name was Ithidriel; he was a strategist and leader of the Bovkel tribe. Minotaurs apparently lived in tribes, constantly warring against other tribes.
Their love for fantasy led them to create a world of unseen creatures, magic and legend. It was an imaginary world, named Alaria. It was their place to run from the problems of life, the place to expel their stress upon when it just becomes too much. This world would only end when they did.
"How's Whitecraft?" Simon said, interrupting the silence between them. Matt jerked his head upwards and saw Simon.
"He's great. Over in Alaska at the moment, on a rare vacation. He doesn't get much time off due to all the work he has to do around the world. Why? Were you thinking something was happening?"
"No, I was just asking. Ithidriel has just decreed a state of War against the Kardril tribe."
Matt rolled his eyes. "Not exactly surprised. That tribe has been supposedly intruding on their territory for months."
Valora looked up and opened her mouth to speak. "Hey guys, Kestral just told me she's reported a Rogue centaur approaching fast. Should we prepare for attack?"
"Nah, it couldn't get in here. Whitecraft has also seen it coming, and-" Matt paused suddenly, his eyes drifted away to the corner of bushes behind Valora. Curiosity and a grin settled throughout his face. Matt always had this look when he saw something of interest to him. Matt leaped off his stump and slowly walked past Valora to the bush behind her.
"What is it Matt?" whispered Valora, raising her eyebrow and looking at him like he was weird. She didn't want to disturb him; Matt can get crotchety when he's discovering something new.
Matt placed his finger to his lips to silent her. Simon and Valora were both crouching behind him. Shaking their head and resting their head in their hands.
Matt reached deep into the bushes, screwing his face up and rustling around. After a minute of it, he pulled out of piece of paper, brown with age. Cautiously, he unravelled it to reveal a spectacular sight.
It was not any paper, it was a map. The edges were crinkled and ripped. It was singed on the sides, curled up and flaky. Carefully they examined it in detail. It was a map of the world, though not as they thought it. The continents looked different shaped and even some countries such as their own, New Zealand were in completely different places to where they should be. It was colour was faint and the countries weren't even labelled. The countries were joined to create larger places, and had strange Egyptian like signs covering them entirely. They seemed to glow with a dull light.
Whispers rushed through his head in a strange language. The word Alaria was repeated many times over. His head hurt and blood thudded through his body. His breathing became harder. Attempting to stop it, he closed the scroll and bent to the ground.
"Could you hear the voices?" breathed Matt.
"Matt, there aren't any voices." said Valora, shaking her head uncertainly.
"It's just a map, nothing special on it. You can keep it; I don't have any interest for maps."
Simon narrowed his eyes still looking at it. "I do like maps, I got a whole collection of 'em at home, but you found this one, so you keep it."
Matt was still engrossed with the map. It was intriguing and it almost seemed to suck him in.
After two hours of mucking around, they all left for their homes. Simon and Valora went the other way, whispering to themselves. Matt didn't care.
Matt was still leaning close and examining the map. After hours of looking he took it back to his house, pinned it up on his wall, and quickly ran back outside. It was dark now; dark clouds covered the entire sky.
Matt entered into the room, it was different. The trees were broken, and their branches were shattered all over the ground. Despair sunk into his heart. Someone had vandalised his place. His own world.
It was not long until he noticed all over the trees were markings. They were engraved into them. Whispers started up in his head, growing louder. The markings were exactly the same as they were on the map. The voices were deeper and the beat of drums thundered in his head. His vision flashed and he saw the signs everywhere. He saw a dragon's head in his mind and he heard the crying of the dead writhing on the ground.
Crawling in pain and terror, he pulled himself out desperately of the hut. He didn't know what was happening, but his world had just begun to change forever.
