Chapter Seven
Dark Tunnels, Loud Voices, and a Touch of Lunacy
It had been several hours since his return and Raphael had yet to leave his wife's side. For a time there, she seemed inconsolable, believing their son's kidnapping was a direct result of her not being able to protect him. After letting her cry, Raphael managed to convince her that she was not at fault and that their son would return home safe. For now, she was sleeping, Raphael sitting in the large chair watching her. The fireplace behind him burned brightly, warming the chilled room. Raphael's figure was still, save for the goblet he rocked gently in his hand, no longer paying attention to the fact that it was still there. His mind was elsewhere, going back three years when the roles were reversed.
His head aching and his right arm sore, the large turtle slowly opened his left eye. Objects around him blurry at best, he did the only thing he could think of. He called out to his brother.
"D..on?" the injured turtle managed to croak out. The only answer he received was a stream of strange sounds from an old woman. He didn't understand a word of them. His breath quickening in fear, he tried to raise himself up and called out again. "Donnie?" this time a little louder.
"Shhhhhhhh," the woman's voice whispered, her hands pushing on his plastron, trying to get him to lie down. "Ses nota, ses nota." Again, she gently shoved Raphael back, still speaking words he couldn't comprehend. "Nai bray tals."
Her soothing voice did nothing to calm the worried turtle. Finding some strength, he tried once more to sit up, pushing away at the hands that tried to keep him down. "No…," he wavered. "Where's………where's my brother?"
"Lin-Say," a second and seemingly familiar voice spoke out. "Ti y key Donatello. Fila!"
"Bay soon mi kendray," the first voice stated. The sound of her footsteps disappearing, Raphael could only assume she was gone. Determined to find his brother, he quickly sat up, only to have the room start spinning.
"It's alright," the second voice told him. "I sent Lin-Say to find your brother. He will be here momentarily."
Reassured, Raphael laid back down and shut his eyes for a brief second and then reopened them, trying to make things come into focus. He jerked for a moment as he felt a hand behind his head, tilting it up. "Drink," the voice told him and placed a cup to his lips.
Hesitant, the injured turtle took a few small sips of the sweet liquid, allowing it to wet his dry mouth. Finished, he lay back down as the cup was pulled away and turned his attention to the other person in the room. "You're the girl…" he pointed. "From…"
"I am the one you rescued," a green hand held his. "My name is Mee-Lah. Your brother said your name was Raphael?" She asked as she sat down on the bed next to him, her free hand gently stroked his face.
Raphael looked up and stared at Mee-Lah. He remembered her from before but because things had happened so fast, he didn't really get a good look at her. His eyes traced the lines of her long black hair down to her blue eyes and small nose. The injured turtle smiled as her light green lips whispered to him.
"Thank you," she said as she leaned in and softly kissed the left side of his face.
"What?" Raphael asked as he once again tried to get up.
"For saving my life," Mee-Lah reminded him and quickly pushed on his shoulders. He was too weak to really fight back. "Donatello was right," she giggled. "You are a stubborn one."
"I don't think he'll ever change either," Donatello added as he entered the room, using his bo for a crutch, a slight limp still evident in his step. "Glad to see you're awake bro'." The purple clad turtle took Mee-Lah's place as she stepped aside. "You had me worried there."
"Where are we?" Raphael asked, his speech less slurred from being tired. "And why won't they let me up?"
"Question one," Donatello smiled. "We are in the castle of the King of Lae-Nauth, the planet we landed on." He pointed to the girl behind him, a smile still on her face. "We managed to save the life of the king's daughter, Princess Mee-Lah."
Raphael looked back to Mee-Lah once more, a crooked grin escaping his face.
"Question two," Donatello regained his brother's attention. "The Androth that attacked you have a very strong poison in their claws. It eats away at the skin and when it enters the system, can cause temporary paralysis so you can't escape. You, brother dear," he poked the injured turtle in the plastron. "Were the recipient of a large portion of the venomous substance. Trying to get up and walk right now wouldn't do you any good. At the most you would stand for a second and then fall over."
"Well," Raphael answered, slightly frustrated with the prospect of being laid up. "Can I at least sit up?"
"Yes," Donatello smirked and grasped at his injured brother, lifting him as Mee-Lah placed extra pillows behind his shell. Raphael grunted a bit at the movement. "Better?" the brainy turtle asked.
"Yeah," Raphael relaxed a little. "Thanks." His eyes roamed around the room for a moment as Donatello got up and Mee-Lah once again sat beside him, a bowl of water and cloth in her hand. He winced as she slowly removed the wrapping on his face. "What's with the clothing?" he pointed to the black shirt and pants his brother was wearing, trying to distract himself from the pull of the bandages on his damaged skin.
"It was wearing this," Donatello gave a quick jerk at the bottom of the tunic. "Or try to explain why we weren't necessarily naked. This seemed to be the easier of the two options," he laughed. "Besides," the purple clad turtle continued as he sat in a chair. "It gets quite cool here in the evenings so the clothing is a definite plus."
"How long have I been out?"
"Two weeks plus one half," Mee-Lah interrupted. "As your brother stated, you absorbed a large amount of the venom from the claws of the Androth." The wrapping now removed, she carefully wiped at Raphael's injuries with a cold cloth, cleaning it as much as she could. "You should be able to arise soon," Mee-Lah tried to reassure him.
"My eye?" he gave a questioning look.
"I'm sorry Raph," Donatello sat forward and leaned on his elbows. "There was too much damage done for it to be saved."
Raphael merely nodded as Mee-Lah finished with his face and started to remove the wrapping from his arm. Again, she repeated the procedure of cleaning his wounds with the damp rag.
Donatello smiled at his brother and stood to leave assured the Raphael was in good hands. "I'll be back in a little while Raph," he slapped his brother on the leg to get his attention.
"Where are you going?" Raphael quickly leaned forward, Mee-Lah pulling him back into the pillows.
"I promised King Rae-Neer that I would let him know the minute you woke up," Donatello smiled as he limped to the door. "I'm sure Mee-Lah will take good care of you," he wriggled his eye ridges in jest, escaping a slight snarl from his brother as he quickly left the room.
No one else to talk to, Raphael turned his attention back to the girl at his side. "What's that?" he pointed to a small tub of cream she held in her hands.
"A salve," Mee-Lah explained and began rubbing it into the damaged areas on Raphael's arm and face. "It will help to repair the injuries. You will still have much scarring I'm afraid."
Mee-Lah kept talking as she rubbed the soothing cream into the skin of Raphael's arm. The large turtle tried to listen to all that she was telling him but her words were lost as he began to pay more attention to her hands as they rubbed the salve into his skin.
Raphael continued to stare at the bed, remembering back, thinking of how things developed between himself and his wife. All the while, he was unaware he was being watched.
Michelangelo stared at his brother from the doorway, watching intently, trying to figure out what was on Raphael's mind. He looked back down at the plate of food in his hand and pushed the door open all the way, walking in quietly. "Hey," the turtle whispered as he set the dish of breads, meats, and fruit down on the table beside Raphael. "They were going to have a servant bring this up but I volunteered to do it," he shrugged his shoulders at Raphael's questioning face.
"Thanks," Raphael whispered, looking back at Mee-Lah's sleeping form, not even paying attention to the food beside him.
Michelangelo stood there, slightly disappointed that the plate he brought wasn't touched. "You should eat something," he tapped his brother's shoulder and pointed to the plate.
Raphael nodded in agreement and stood, walking out to the balcony and taking the plate with him. He jerked his head, telling Michelangelo to follow him out there.
"Is she okay?" Michelangelo asked, now able to speak a little louder, concerned, as Raphael put a bit of food in his mouth.
"She'll be fine," Raphael nodded. "did everyone get settled in?" he looked over at his brother and then turned to stare at the city below, cobble stone streets now brightly lit up with lamps as well as the neighboring areas outside the castle walls.
"Yeah," Michelangelo answered and then hesitated. "Look Raph," the smaller of the turtles turned and looked his brother in the eye. "I'm sorry I yelled at you last night. I…"
"Save it Mike," Raphael gave his brother a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder. "You don't have anything to apologize for."
Breathing a sigh of relief, Michelangelo turned his head back towards the entrance to the bedroom and stared for a moment a Mee-Lah. "She's your wife?"
"MmmHmmm," Raphael nodded and let out a breath, tired, stressed, and at a loss of what to do.
"What happened to her?"
Leaning with his elbows on the balcony, Raphael mused over that particular question and quickly jerked his head back up so he was facing his brother. "Where is everyone now?" he asked, his tone changing.
"I think they're still in the dining hall," Michelangelo pointed behind him. "Why?"
"Go get them," Raphael instructed, brushing his hands together to remove any crumbs. "Just our brothers, Splinter, April and Casey. No one else," he pointed, his face set in a cold stare. "Then meet me in the east tower," the now determined turtle strolled quickly and quietly back into his bedroom. Without making a noise he promptly returned his cape to his neck and his sash to his waist and then slid his sai into place.
Michelangelo followed his brother back into the room and towards the door to leave. He was stopped by a hand grabbing at his tunic and pulling him back. Raphael's breath was on his neck, the large turtle's voice whispering in his ear. "You are to tell no one where you are going or why," Raphael spoke low. "No one," he restated. "Do you understand me?"
Startled by the harshness of his brother's voice and the strange order he was given to follow, Michelangelo merely nodded that he understood and left the room to find his family.
So as not to disturb her, Raphael walked without a sound over to Mee-Lah's sleeping form and leaned down. He couldn't resist, kissing her cheek softly and nuzzled her face with his.
//Where are you going?// she asked weakly, still half asleep, her hand reaching out to rub his cheek.
//I have some things to take care of but I'll be back in a few hours, I promise,// he kissed her face once more. //I love you.// hesitantly, the large turtle backed away and went out to the balcony and began his climb.
Michelangelo assumed correctly. His family was indeed still sitting in the dining hall, asking questions about the world they now found themselves in. On occasion, they would answer inquiries about life in New York. As he looked around the room, he spotted a two new faces.
In between Donatello and Leonardo was a young man with long brown hair pulled back into a ponytail. He was only a few inches smaller than Casey but still had a muscular build. Enough to rival that of any of the turtles or their human friend. He wore a deep grey tunic with silver trimming and a dragon, much like Donatello's, in the top left corner. His left arm was in a sling.
On the opposite side of Leonardo was a portly looking man with a loud voice. He had dark and curly black hair, speckled with bits of grey, a full beard adorned his face as well. His tunic was a deep brown with a red dragon on it, again placed in the top left corner of the clothing. Occasionally, he would pound the table with a fat and clenched fist, either in laughter or because he was belting out an order to a servant nearby. Each time he did, Leonardo's face would tighten and his jaw muscles would twitch, illustrating the discomfort the loud man's orders would bring. The young man in the sling seemed to have the same reaction as well. Turning his head to hide his irritation, he saw Michelangelo lingering in the doorway.
"Ah," the youth in the grey tunic enthusiastically stood up. "You must be Michelangelo, the king's third brother." Quickly he moved away from the table and walked around, his right arm extended in greeting. "I am Tre-Vonn," he introduced himself. "Cousin to the royal family. Please," he gestured to his now empty seat. "Sit, join us."
Michelangelo had no time to answer or make up an excuse as to why he should refuse. Within a second's time, he felt Tre-Vonn's hand upon his shoulder, directing him to the other side of the table.
"Michelangelo?" Splinter questioned, noting the uncomfortable look on his son's face. "Are you alright?"
"Dad?" Michelangelo, the unusually quiet turtle addressed his father. "Can I talk to you for a moment?" and he pointed to the far corner of the room.
Leonardo and Donatello exchanged knowing looks with Casey and April. 'Dad' was never really used unless something was really wrong.
Quietly, Michelangelo walked over with Splinter to speak in private, keeping their words in Japanese.
The other two turtles and their human friends stayed where they were, keeping their new acquaintances occupied.
"Now then," the large man once more pounded a fist on the table, silverware and plates rattling as he did. "The king sent for us but does not bother to show himself?" He folded his hands across his big belly, obviously frustrated with his lack of attention. "That is a poor display of manners if I do say so myself."
"Then Lord Maul-Ves," Tre-Vonn interrupted, glaring at the portly man. "You would be by yourself in that opinion," he folded his arms. "If you remember correctly, the messenger said the meeting was for tomorrow not tonight." Tre-Vonn turned to face the remainder of the turtles, Casey and April. "My apologies my friends," he said sympathetically. "As a member of the council, Lord Maul-Ves assumes he should be awarded certain privileges and should not have to wait for anything."
"Apology accepted," Leonardo nodded.
"Is it my fault," Maul-Ves began his complaints once more. "…that we are here like our oh so gracious king requested?" he stated with obvious amounts of sarcasm.
"Lord Ves!" Donatello stood up, obviously having had his fill of the loud man and his complaints. "You would do well to speak respectfully of my brother or…"
"Or what?" Maul-Ves stood up, his chair sliding back and his glare meeting Donatello's.
"Or," Donatello leaned in, his hands on the table. "You will find yourself stripped of your lands and title," he threatened, his opponent's eyes briefly showing a small amount of fear. "And considering the amount of complaints the king has received from those working your lands, I highly doubt that would be a difficult decision for him to make. Because contrary to what you may believe, you own the land, not the people," the turtle in purple let out with a hiss of distaste. "Is that clear?"
Leonardo, Casey and April all stared in disbelief at Donatello. Anger was not a side the intelligent turtle usually showed and to tell someone off in such a way was definitely not a part of his personality they were exposed to all that often.
"Leo, Casey, April," he interrupted their stares. "It has been a long day, I suggest we turn in," Donatello instructed as his friends and family nodded in agreement, their faces still showing traces of surprise. "Lord Ves," Donatello turned, his teeth grinding together. "I had Dre-Shun prepare a room for you in the west wing. You should find all you need in your chambers."
Quietly Maul-Ves gave a small bow and left the room in loud disgust.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Donatello turned toward the one visitor he liked. "Tre-Vonn," he placed a hand on the young man's shoulder. "You know where everything is obviously," he smiled, his friend letting out a laugh.
"Of course Donatello," he smiled. "I do believe," Tre-Vonn answered as he looked back at the now empty hall, "you may have put yourself on his bad side."
"If I have then so be it," Donatello responded. "Now ask me if I even care. Before you retire I would like for you to see the king's physician. Raphael and I would like to be assured that your shoulder is healing well."
"Of course my friend," the young man gave a respectful bow and turned his attention to the remainder of Donatello's family. "I wish you all a good night and, Michelangelo; I do hope that you will feel better in the morning." With his farewell, Tre-Vonn left the room.
"Way to go Donnie," Casey jumped up and gave the turtle a slap on the shell. "I didn't know you had it in you bro'!"
"Thanks Case," Donatello smiled. "I have wanted to do that for a very long time."
"Master Splinter? Michelangelo?" Leonardo turned his attention to the corner of the room. "What is it?"
"Your brother," Splinter answered. "Would like for us to meet him in the East Tower." He turned his attention to Donatello. "I assume you know what this would be about?"
"Yes Master Splinter," Donatello bowed. "All of you follow me."
"Wait," Michelangelo stopped him. "Raph said not to tell anyone where we were going or why."
"Very well," Donatello nodded and turned his direction. "We will go this way instead." His family following, Donatello led them all to what appeared to be a dead end. Turning around, he looked past the confused faces of his family and checked to see if they were being followed. No one in sight, Donatello pushed on a brick positioned in the corner of the wall. A small grinding noise resulted from his action and the stone wall in front of him pushed away, revealing a darkened tunnel inside the castle wall. Quickly, he grabbed a lamp hanging on the wall and ushered his family inside the small passageway while keeping a watchful eye out for anyone that may come up behind him. Everyone now securely inside, he passed the small source of light off to Michelangelo and motioned for Leonardo to help him push the wall back into place.
Everything secured, Donatello took the little light back from the waiting Michelangelo and held his finger to his lips, indicating the need for silence. Swiftly, the court advisor turned to his left and grasped at an extinguished torch mounted on the wall. Using the lamp in his hand, he lit the new one and passed it back to Casey who was at the end of the line. With a motion of his hand, Donatello led everyone up the steep and narrow stairwell and towards their destination.
Upon their arrival, Donatello passed the glass light he carried back to his brother and whispered for Leonardo to come forward. With a resound and determined grunt, the two turtles pushed the false wall out of place and entered into a very strange room.
Shoving the wall back and into place, the group turned around and viewed their unusual surrounding.
It seemed as if the room went on to forever, stretching out so far that the remaining four walls couldn't be seen. There was a strange odor in the air, a mix of flowers and various plants and musty type smell. It was strong enough to stop momentarily stop the group in their tracks.
"It's better over here by the window," Raphael uttered, leaning on the brick work and catching the breeze from the outside. He looked at the confused faces of his family. "I climbed up here," he shrugged his shoulders. "It's kind of hard being sneaky when everyone knows who you are."
"Is he here?" Donatello asked, stepping forward while Raphael walked over to meet him. Both Michelangelo and April made a hasty retreat to the open window, inhaling deeply the fresh air.
"Who," both Casey and Leonardo asked at the same time.
"Bray-Noor," Donatello explained. "He's something like a wizard."
"He's a lunatic," Raphael grumbled. "Bray-Noor!" he yelled into the vast space, the sounds of disturbed wild life his only answer. "Where are you, you old fool?" he yelled once more. A bird that looked much like a vulture with a long white feathery tail crowed at him.
"Bray-Noor," Donatello rolled his eyes in frustration. "I thought we established that you were not the deliverer of death. Now would you please come down and introduce yourself? We've brought you some guests."
Everyone was amazed as the strange looking bird landed on the floor and was then surrounded by a soft blue glow. In front of their very eyes, the bird slowly changed in to the figure of a man, crouched down on the floor. The transformation now complete Bray-Noor stood up and eyed the new comers.
The looks of the old man did nothing to support Raphael's assessment of him. Bray-Noor was a very tall and slender man with silvery gray hair around the sides of his head, the top was bald. He had very pale green skin, due to his lack of encounters with daylight. His eyes were extremely unusual, completely grey. His face was long with a pointed nose and chin. He stood there in his robe, a color that was not quite blue or grey, but somewhere in between. The old wizard stood there with a cold look on his face, viewing his guests, giving them a chill with his glare. Then, he did something completely surprising, he smiled, very enthusiastically.
"Ah! Sumtas!" he exclaimed, stepping forward and grasping Casey and Leonardo into a tight bear hug. "Mis, mis, mis, pun honomas honad pleathas toi voy sala, sala, batras," the old man chirped happily as he stared at his king.
"Let them go please," Raphael rolled his eyes while standing there with his arms folded in frustration. "And speak our English; they don't understand a word you're saying."
"Of course, of course," Bray-Noor immediately loosened his grip and stepped away slightly embarrassed. "Introductions must be made first," he grinned wide, pointing at every new face he saw. "Then we may start the embracing." His grey eyes widened in excitement as he clapped his hands together in realization. "Having guest's means having tea, I must put the kettle on," and the strange man quickly ran off into the dense clutter behind him.
"What is wrong with him?" Casey pointed to the direction Bray-Noor ran.
"Like I said," Raphael shrugged his shoulders. "Lunacy."
"Has he always been this way?" April asked, stepping closer and looking off into the distance, a sense of pity building.
"No," Donatello eyed his family and shook his head. "About a year ago, he had a terrible argument with his son, a lieutenant in King Ray-Neer's army. That day, close to sunset, a small group of The Horde attacked a small village outside the castle walls."
"It was an ambush," Raphael finished the story. "Both Bray-Noor's son and King Ray-Neer died along with many others."
"Where were you?" Michelangelo asked.
"I was one of the few that made it out alive," Raphael muttered looking at the ground. "Anyway," he took in a breath and looked back up at his family. "That was when Bray-Noor just went nuts."
"And you were made king?" Leonardo pointed as his brother nodded yes in response.
"He is no lunatic," Splinter stated as he was standing off to the side, still and quiet, a sense of understanding to the man's behavior growing inside him. "Merely a man lost in despair."
As quickly as he left, Bray-Noor returned but not with cups or the proverbial kettle he ran off in search of. Instead, he showed up empty handed. "I had forgotten the introductions," he smiled, rather embarrassed. "Then," he stated with certainty. "We shall have tea, or," he gave a mischievous look. "Something much stronger, yes?"
"No," Raphael uttered low, a disappointed look now present on the wizard's face.
"Bray-Noor," Donatello got the old man's attention, "Our family needs to understand what people are saying. We need you to help us with that, can you do that for us please?" the purple clad turtle asked with a greater sense of patience than his brother.
"Yes," Bray-Noor answered solemnly, as if he were suddenly sane. "I can do that my Lord." With a quick swirl of his hands, a small wind developed from in between his palms and flowed down, blowing away any dirt and clutter on the floor. This simple action revealed large golden dragon embedded into the floor. Its large body was poised with its front claws out, ready to strike, its head and neck leaning back, as if it were releasing a loud roar. As fierce as the creature looked, what was unusual was the tail. It looked no different from what one would expect a dragon's tail to look like. But, the fact that it was curled around, protecting a small group of children, was what seemed unusual. Around the entire scene was a ring of fire twisting around a blue crystal ring, water.
Enamored with the beauty of the design, Michelangelo leaned down to touch the picture displayed at his feet. "Unreal," he whispered. Reaching out, his finger brushed the edge of the design, only to be 'slapped' away as it were by a small splash of red sparks. "Ow!" he cried out, shaking his hand and blowing on his fingertips, trying to soothe the small burning sensation.
"It is prideful to go to him Michelangelo," Bray-Noor explained, a now calm and lucid look gracing his face. His voice changed from its excited and high pitched tone to a softer and wiser one. "You must wait for him to come to you," the old wizard step forward, looking as if he were merely floating across the floor. With a quick wave of his hand over the young turtles injured finger, it was instantly cooled and no longer hurting.
Still holding his hand, Michelangelo stared in amazement, as did the rest of his family. "How did you do that? And how did you know my name?"
Bray-Noor smiled and leaned down, his full grey eyes staring the young turtle in the face. "Being blind," he pointed to his empty gaze. "Does nothing to hinder my understanding of what is around me," he smiled. "Now then," the old man stepped over to the rest of the group and gestured for them to move into place. "If you would please."
Doing as they were asked, both turtles, Splinter, Casey and April stepped around the two circles on the floor, careful not to touch them. They stood in silence, exchanging nervous glances with each other, wondering what was going to happen next.
"You wish for them to understand what others are saying, correct?" the wizard turned his blind eyes to his king. "But you do not want others to be aware of their knowledge."
"Correct," Raphael answered, stepping forward and gently grasping the man's hand. "Here," he said and placed the palm of Bray-Noor's hand over his right plastron. "Out of sight."
"Yes my king," the old man nodded and waited for Raphael to step away and out of the circle. "Bear with me my new friends," Bray-Noor gave a sympathetic smile as smoke started to rise from the mouth of the dragon on the floor. "This will only hurt for a moment."
