Kingdom of Cameblock
About 600 years BJ
"If we do another time jump, I think I'm gonna be sick," Jessie said when they landed. "Is this the last stop? Please tell me this is the last stop."
"It's the last stop," Clockwürk said plainly.
There was a chorus of relieved sighs from the travelers.
"Where are we now?" Petra asked.
"Oh, hey, that's a song!" Lukas chimed in. "I have it on music disc back home. Some editions call it 'wait,' though. It's a good song."
Petra muttered something about Lukas being a "music nerd" under her breath.
"I'll tell you in a minute," Clockwürk replied. "We don't want to waste any time here, so let's make sure we have a plan."
"Okay…" Jessie conceded, not sure what the plan could possibly be. Her gang was not famous for their well-thought out plans (they had a habit of just winging it all the time) and Clockwürk, from the samplings they'd had, didn't seem to be much of a planner either.
"The treasure of time that we are looking for here, in this time spot, is actually not a gem this time," he began. "What we seek is a legendary sword called Pixelibur. Very powerful. Quite magical. And really rather awesome. Once we find it and acquire it, we can teleport back to the current day and give the items to my father. Then he should be able to reopen the portal and you all can be on your merry way."
"Ooh, oh! Can we go just a little bit into the future?" Lukas begged. "I want to sneak a peek at what I'll be like as an adult. I'm still only a teenager. Who do you think I'll marry?"
Can it be me? Jessie thought.
Clockwürk just facepalmed. "No, Lukas. We don't need to do that. Let's focus on getting the last treasure before we worry about any extra jaunts to the future."
"Oh, all right." Lukas sighed. "I am really curious, though."
"We can think about it, okay? Right now we need to find Pixelibur."
"Okay, okay."
"Well, let's see. What are our outfits this time?" Jessie glanced over at their guide.
Clockwürk's toga had become a red tunic, secured about the waist with a leather belt. No longer in the era of robes and togas, he had on loose woolen pants and scuffed leather boots. There was a cowhide satchel at his hip, with the strap running over his shoulder. He looked ready for adventure.
Lukas had a similar outfit, but his tunic was beige and his cloak forest-green. He had leather bracers on his wrists and shin-guards on his lower legs. His regular bow had become a graceful longbow, nicely matching the quiver stocked with arrows on his back. He looked like an elf warrior. Jessie half-expected to see pointy ears the next time he turned his head.
Ivor's olive-green robe had made a reappearance, but with a more medieval spin this time. It now sported a hood lined with gray fur and numerous pockets down the front and sides for storing goodies while on the run. A leather belt holding empty glass flasks and a small book of "magical potion recipes" encircled his waist. Ivor grinned, delighted by his wizard gear.
"Pants. Just once, I want to wear pants," Petra complained as she fluffed the skirts on her dress. It was a white kirtle covered by a sandy-green bodice and overskirt. It laced in a crisscross up her back. A tight leather corset cinched her waist, and Petra's discomfort at wearing one was made apparent by the stiffness of her gait. Delicate white flats covered her feet, and a lovely blue cape trailed on the ground behind her. Her ordinarily loose hair had been tied back in the "princess style," completing the look.
"We look amazing! Like something out of a story book!" Jessie squealed gleefully, spinning a pirouette in her blue dress. It was similar to Petra's, except that the magic had, for some reason, spared her the discomfort of a corset and given her a stained linen apron instead. Rather than dainty white flats, the magic gave Jessie a working woman's practical boots. It had also tucked a fresh daisy into her hair, which stayed put no matter how hard Jessie spun. Lukas watched, amused, as she whirled in circles to make the skirts billow out, like she was seven years old all over again. It was a cute sight.
"Finally, someone's a fan of the costume changes," Clockwürk said. "I'm sorry if you wanted to be fair ladies of the court and knights in shining armor, but I had to keep our outfits modest. We don't want to attract too much attention."
"In that case, we'd best figure out where we are, so we know what exactly we're dealing with here," Ivor said, still searching for goodies in the pockets of his robe. So far, the best thing he had found was a small ruby stone.
"We've passed the BC mark," Clockwürk hinted. "We're well into the AD era now."
"18th century?" Jessie guessed.
"Too far. Backtrack a couple centuries."
"Sometime in the Middle Ages?"
"Bingo, baby! Welcome to the Kingdom of Cameblock. One of many, many kingdoms across the world at this time."
"Interesting geography," Ivor commented as the group examined their surroundings. They stood at the edge of a dense forest of mixed oaks and pines. Snowbound mountains loomed not all that far off, hidden behind a veil of fog. Unlike the fair days in their previous time spots, the weather here was chill, damp, and dreary. A dreamy, misty rain hung in the air, and thick piles of clouds dimmed the sunlight. Despite the somewhat gloomy atmosphere, Jessie couldn't help but feel as if the place was replete with myst and magic just waiting to be revealed.
"If this is the Middle Ages, I see an appalling lack of castles," Petra said.
Clockwürk shrugged. "Oh, we'll see some eventually. We just have to walk a little bit, and we'll be right there." He flipped up his hood, casting a shadow over his face, and started walking. The others followed him like ducklings after their mother. Jessie hoped that he knew what he was doing this time. She also wondered how all these macguffins they'd been searching for would come together to reactivate the portal. She reached into her Pocket and fingered the Spark of Creation, feeling its smooth surface and internal heat. It was still warm to the touch, but not hot enough to literally burn a hole in her Pocket.
They were walking on a gritty road of dirt worn down by years of stomping feet. It snaked around trees and rocks as it led them out of the woods. It was dark enough under the trees that Jessie worried about the possibility of prowling monsters. She kept a close hand on her diamond sword, returned to her after she scared Emperor Zero into thinking that she was a goddess. Ah, that was one of her better moments. She was glad that Lukas had written down an account of what happened in his journal, to ensure that the memory would be preserved.
Petra wasn't having as good a time as Jessie was. The forest underbrush immediately ahead of them had been cleared away for the path, but there was still debris on the peripherals of the road. And somehow, Petra kept snagging her skirts on saplings and fallen branches. Whenever it happened, she dislodged it with a sharp yank, but that usually resulted in tearing the fabric. By the time the gang finally emerged from the woods, the hem of her skirt had been shredded.
"It wouldn't be a problem if I was wearing pants, but no, I have to wear this dorky dress," Petra grumbled.
"Oh, don't complain," Clockwürk said. "See, we're here."
There was a twenty-meter swatch of grass between the woods and the city walls. It made an impromptu campground for the two kinds of travelers waiting to enter Cameblock: shepherds and gypsies. The shepherds were a petulant bunch, arguing with the gatekeepers ("Why can't we bring our sheep into the city? They're our livelihood!"), with the gypsies ("Filthy hooligans, we were here first!"), and with each other ("Find your own grazing land!") Meanwhile, the gypsies happily ignored the shepherds, parking their wagons in circles and tuning their dulcimer violins. Jessie could have sworn she spotted one pluck a shepherd's purse off his belt as he focused on berating her friend.
Jessie and company passed them by, approaching the iron gate set in the stone walls. Four gatekeepers, their armor bearing a dragon insignia on the chestplate, watched the travelers draw near.
"Travelers?" one asked.
"Yes, sir," Clockwürk replied. "Will we be allowed entry?"
"Who do you all have in your party?" He scanned the group of five. "An archer, a cleric, two lovely lasses, and you...whatever you are. No sheep to run loose in the streets...no bulky wagons on the roads...yes, that should be fine. What brings you here?"
"We simply wanted to see what it was like," Clockwürk stated. "We have heard that it is a very fine kingdom. Good, honorable, fair to all…"
"Very well. Open the gates!" The gatekeepers cranked the iron doors open; they protested with squeaking, weather-worn hinges. They shooed the five-man band through the gates and into the city, shutting the doors again behind them.
"You know, I'm not a cleric," Ivor commented once they were inside. "I'm an alchemist."
Cameblock looked like an illustration from a childhood storybook. Castle Cameblock stood on a hill overlooking the sprawling village. Hundreds of quaint cottages dotted the green hills enclosed by the city walls, sitting next to their little farm fields. White smoke puffed from the chimneys of smithies. Whole fish and meat shanks dangled from the roofs of butcher shops. A delicious aroma of freshly baked bread wafted from the bakeries. The only building significantly larger than any other was a stately cathedral halfway between the walls and the castle. Judging by the care and detail put into its elaborate architecture, stained glass windows, and golden bells in the bell towers, the people of Cameblock cared an awful lot for their church.
"Are you sure a magical sword is going to be hiding in a scruffy village?" Petra asked. "It's so...plain."
"Yes, but it's cute," Clockwürk replied. "We aren't looking in the village for the sword. I know exactly what we're to do here this time, and to do that, we need to find an old friend of mine."
"Who would that be?" Jessie inquired.
"You'll see. Here, in here." He pointed at a small tavern nestled among some cottages. It reminded Jessie of the Wobbly Wizard from the water world. It had a cobbled stone foundation, wooden walls, a thatched roof, and a warm glow from the inside. Barrels of wheat sat outside the door. A sign hanging from the awning said that the building was the "Magic Week Tavern."
"Your friend is a tavern rat?" Petra asked as they entered the building.
"I suppose you could say that," Clockwürk answered, "but he's actually very wise, and sharper than a sword to boot. Just because he lingers here often doesn't mean that he spends his time quaffing ale."
Inside the tavern, it was somewhat cramped and rather dusty. Lanterns dangled from the rafter, casting their yellow glow on the bustle of activity below. Men were filling up their tankards and toasting to the health of Cameblock. A party of dungeon crawlers examined a map at one table; a group of knights enjoyed a post-battle drink at another. A tamer sat in a corner, feeding spoonfuls of ham to a baby dragon. It was as if this was a scene of fairy tale characters catching a rest after their stories had been told.
"If you're from the celestial realm, how did you make friends with an earthling?" Jessie was still curious.
"I told you, my friend is a very wise and sagacious person. His gift from the Creator is that can understand deep, cosmic things that others cannot. Look, there he is."
They pushed past the crowd and looked for the person whom Clockwürk was pointing at. He was an older man, hook-nosed and a little plump, wearing a green robe and black boots. His dark eyes were downcast to the floor as he sat there, puffing heartily on a wooden pipe. Every so often he took it out of his mouth and blew a smoke ring.
"Better take that pipe elsewhere, Emrys," Clockwürk said to him. "You know what the barkeep says about filling the whole tavern with smoke."
"Bah, he doesn't notice anythin—My stars! It's Clockwürk!" Emrys glanced up to see who was talking to him and almost spat out his pipe. "It's been a good long time since I saw you walking around this age. Who are these dollop-heads you have with you?"
"A few friends," Clockwürk said. "They needed help getting home."
"I'm assuming you're not just walking them to their houses." Emrys raised a skeptical eyebrow.
"We've already been to the beginning of time and the Kiva Empire. In order to activate the portal…"
Emrys said nothing, but gave Clockwürk an "are you telling the whole truth?" look.
"You came here to ask where Pixelibur is, and I will tell you." Emrys blew a smoke ring. "You don't have time to wander around Cameblock; go right to it. I'm sure your friends are dying to get home." Emrys said 'dying' very deliberately; he knew something that Jessie and her friends didn't, and it wasn't just the location of the sought-after sword.
Clockwürk cringed. "I've been going as fast as I can."
"Where's the sword?" Petra demanded.
"Easy, child. No need to treat me as the enemy." Emrys packed more pipe-weed into the pipe. "Pixelibur is exactly where I left it after the king of Cameblock was determined: the bottom of the lake."
"If so, your girlfriend will be guarding it. That's a problem," Clockwürk said. "How can we convince the Lady of the Lake to let us have the sword?"
Emrys shrugged. "Freya never was a predictable woman. I couldn't say."
"Maybe you could come with us and ask her," Lukas suggested.
Emrys scoffed. "I don't believe this concerns me enough to do so."
"But…"
"But nothing. I've helped you enough." Emrys muttered a phrase in a strange language. Jessie thought that it was just some expression of frustration, but then he puffed away in a cloud of sparkling smoke. It had been magic.
Ivor gasped in delighted surprise. "Incredible! Teleportation! I want to be able to do magic like that."
"Well, so much for that," Petra grumped. "Let's get to the lake and grab this stupid sword."
Everyone else thought that was a capital idea, so they fought their way back through the crowd of tavern rats and left the scene. Jessie assumed that Clockwürk knew where they needed to go ("the lake" wasn't terribly specific) and let him lead the way. Besides, she needed to talk to Lukas about something. She lagged behind their guide to fall into the same pace as blond guy.
"Psst, Lukas," she said to him. "Do you have a second?"
"Yeah," he said. "What's the matter?"
"Clockwürk. Something is up with Clockwürk. Emrys knew something that we don't."
"I thought it was that he just was sensitive to hearing 'kill' and 'die.' Some kind of weird trigger."
Jessie shook her head. "There's something else. He seems like he's been in an awful big hurry ever since we landed in the Kiva Empire."
"I've noticed that too. At first I thought, 'This must be like a boring grocery run for him and he wants the errands done quickly,' but I'm starting to think that something else is at play here."
"I...I'm not sure if we can trust him anymore." It hurt to hear Jessie's voice so worried.
"He could be luring us into danger." There was a dark look in Lukas's blue eyes that Jessie had never seen before.
"Or there's some kind of danger that he's struggling to keep us away from."
"We should do something."
"But what? We can't ditch him. If we do that, we'll be stranded in the Middle Ages forever."
"Yeah, you're right." Lukas sighed. "I'm not one to steal and I wouldn't be surprised if his magic clock only answers to him, so taking it and leaving him stranded is out of the question. I guess we just have to ride this one out."
By this time, they had left the settled part of the village, where the level fields became tumbling hillsides, leading down to a lightly wooded area in the valley. Through the trees, the shimmering blue shape of a lake was visible. The ruins of a castle or temple stood in the midst of the lake.
"We're here," Clockwürk said plainly, and led the group down the hill.
"Oh, goody," Petra grumbled. "More underbrush to snag my skirts on. Why does this dress have to be so dang long?"
They walked through the patchy woodlands until they reached the shore of the lake. A small sand bar formed the border between land and water. There was a dock extending partially into the lake, but it was rotting and coated in moss, so it wasn't safe footing. A less-dilapidated canoe bobbed in the water next to it, tied to a post with a crusty rope. It was a rather large canoe, more than big enough to hold the party of five.
"Ladies first," Ivor said to Jessie and Petra.
"How noble," Petra said, voice dripping with sarcasm, as she hiked up her skirt and stepped into the canoe. It rocked back and forth and almost dumped her into the water. Jessie boarded next, followed by Ivor and Clockwürk. Lukas waded into the shallow of the lake and untied the canoe from the post. After he'd untied the boat, he boarded with the others as they grabbed oars off of the boat floor. They pushed off as a group effort and started paddling.
"Head toward the middle of the lake," Clockwürk instructed. "The Lady of the Lake wouldn't hang out by the shore."
Petra sighed. "I hope it doesn't take too long to row to the middle. This is very boring."
"We should sing a boating song!" Jessie suggested. "Oh, I could even do a little parody. Let it row, let it row—"
"NO!" the others cried. "Anything but that horrible song!"
"I've had that awful tune stuck in my head for three years!" Ivor cried.
Jessie wilted. "Okay, maybe not that one."
"Row, row, row your boat/Gently down the stream," Lukas crooned, offering a better option.
The others accepted that ditty and joined in. "Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily/Life is but a dream."
"Petra, don't force your voice into a soprano," Ivor critiqued. "You come off as more of an alto."
"Can we do another verse?" Jessie requested.
So they started again. "Row, row, row your boat/Gently down the stream/Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily/Life is but a dream."
"Huh. Ivor, you're actually right about having the proper pitch," Petra admitted. "That does sound better."
They sang the boating song until everyone was sick of it. But by that time, they had reached the middle of the lake, eliminating the need for any more ditties to fill up the silence.
"Okay, we're here," Lukas said, glancing at the sparkling water. "What do we do now?"
"So let me get something straight," Petra said to Clockwürk. "This Lady of the Lake character is your friend Emrys's girlfriend?"
"Uh-huh," he said. "They were madly in love when she was still a human. Not so much anymore, but he still visits her every once in a while."
"Aw, cute," Jessie said, overhearing their conversation. "Do we need to summon the Lady, or is she going to spring out of the water on her own?"
"Summon the Lady of the Lake!" Clockwürk scoffed. "No. She only comes on her own volition."
Petra leaned against the side of the canoe, almost tipping it again. "Does that mean that we have to sit here and wait for her to come? I think our time could be better spent."
"Is that so?" an etheral woman's voice asked. The passengers on the canoe yelped and turned towards its source to see the ghostly, misty form of a woman looming over them. She had on a clean white gown and her wet black hair clung to her neck and shoulders. Despite her rather scary appearance, she had a kind look in her eyes.
"It's the Lady of the Lake!" Lukas squealed.
Ivor nudged him. "Ask her where the sword is."
"Why don't you ask her?"
"Oh, fine. Lady of the Lake, may we have the sword Pixelibur?"
"Please, Miss Freya?" Jessie begged. "We really, really need it."
Freya crossed her arms. "Why should I just hand it off to you? I'm not about to simply give away a powerful ancestral sword to random travelers."
"I thought Emrys introduced me to you, Freya," Clockwürk said. "Unless I'm remembering things wrong. I tend to do that."
"That depends. Who are you? Refresh my memory."
"Clockwürk. You know, son of Father Time and Mother Nature. I'd bow, but I might tip the boat."
"Clockwürk, Clockwürk," she repeated. "Sounds a tad familiar. And you say that Emrys introduced you to me?"
"If I'm remembering things correctly. He and I go way back...Me farther than him, of course; I'm 8,000 years old, but still."
"Fair enough. But who are these young fools?" Freya pointed at Clockwürk's companions.
"A few friends. I'm helping them get back home. And for it, I need your help, Freya. Can you lend a hand to a friend of a friend?"
"Hmm-mmmph. Men are so needy. What is it you want?"
"Where did Emrys hide Pixelibur? He told me he threw it in your lake for you to guard after the king of Cameblock was established."
"Oh, I see how it is," Freya sneered. "You only need me because of that stupid steak knife."
"We're not very adept at swimming, Freya, and you know where it lies on the lakebed. ...And Pixelibur is not a stupid steak knife! It has great power if energized by the other treasures of time."
"Ugh. Fine. One minute, give me one minute to fetch it." Freya disappeared below the shimmering waves. While she was underwater, Clockwürk pulled out his magic clock and started counting out the seconds. Sure enough, just as he was reaching 60, the Lady of the Lake re-emerged from the depths, proudly bearing a ceremonial sword in her angelic hands.
"Thank you ever so much, Freya," Clockwürk said as he took it from her. His hands were kind of full with holding the clock, so he gave it to Petra. Petra gawked at the gorgeous sword, no doubt entertaining fantasies of hacking off monsters' heads with it.
"Will that be all?" The Lady of the Lake inquired.
"That will be all, thank you. I appreciate it."
At his saying 'I appreciate it,' Freya's sarcastic demeanor softened. "Aw...you're welcome. Farewell for now, Clockwürk. Visit me if you come back to the Middle Ages, all right?"
"Yes, ma'am."
Freya waved goodbye and descended below the surface again, spraying water all over the place.
"This is an epic sword," Petra gushed, turning Pixelibur over and over in her hands. Despite lying at the bottom of a lake for who knows how long, the weapon looked ageless. Its steel blade gleamed with a platinum, mirror-like shine. The handle was gilt in gold and pearl. Faintly glowing gems studded the hilt. A runic inscription ran in a spiral down the handle.
"It is rather nice, isn't it?" Clockwürk said. "They say that it was made from an angel's armor."
"That was unexpectedly easy," Jessie commented. "We rowed to the middle of a lake, talked to Emrys's girlfriend, and poof, the sword is ours."
"Would you rather that the final leg of the quest was difficult?" Clockwürk retorted.
"No...I guess not."
The gang rowed back to shore, in higher spirits than before, Clockwürk included. That they finally had all three treasures of time probably had something to do with the enthusiasm. But they still refused to sing any more of the "row your boat" song. As soon as the canoe bumped against the sand bar, its occupants climbed out and stepped ashore.
"We did it, guys!" Jessie chirped. "We have the three treasures!"
"Well done, friends," Clockwürk applauded. "Now all we need to do is return to the present day and give the items to my father. I'll remedy that posthaste."
"Hooray!" Petra cheered. "That means I can stop wearing the dorky period dress. My real clothes, my real armor, my lucky bandanna! I can't wait."
"I'm a little disappointed that I didn't actually get to use my bow," Lukas sighed, running his finger along the bowstring. "Can I just shoot one arrow to get a feel for it?"
Clockwürk conceded. "Fine. Just don't hit anyone. Aim at something inanimate."
"Yay!" Lukas took aim at a haystack in a nearby farm field and loosed the arrow. It arced through the air and...missed the haystack by a good five meters. The longbow was a little too long for Lukas to handle, it seemed.
"Well, we're lucky we didn't have to rely on your archery while on this quest," Ivor remarked.
Lukas whimpered, offended.
"They say that yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, but today is a gift," Clockwürk mused as he twirled his clock in a circle, activating the time travel to bring them back to the current age. "That's why it's called the present."
A/N: Happy New Year, everyone! Say hello to 2017!
