The Lost World
Fanfic Season Six
Speci: Ai Febli Wiskri nap ye litundarel. Brig- ya nap ap Cleise, yi
dotara.
Translation: Disclaimer: The Lost World does not belong to me. Please
don't sue me.
AN: Special thanks to Thomas Harris, one of my literary heroes, and the
pioneer of sensory storytelling. This chapter contains a great deal of
what he taught me through his work, and I hope that I wouldn't disappoint
him.
AN: Once again, sorry about the format. There is NOTHING I can do about
it. I'm really sorry. Also. I have apparently made some mistakes from
translating the episodes. Unfortunately, I don't know all the details of
all the episodes. (Little stuff, you know, like where the big exploxions
were.) Humor me. Also, If somebody has a tape of Trapped that they would
like to send me, by all means do. It would improve my writing, and it's
just darn good to watch. Anyway. . .
*******************************************************
Episode 3: The Throne
A beautiful woman greeted them at the gate. Her skin was the color
of liquid cocoa, and looked as smooth. Her hair was a fountain out of her
head, and so intricate was the weaving that held it up that it was
impossible to tell how long it really was. She wore robes made of
shimmering rose gold with luxurious matching silk. Her voice matched the
rest of her in its sweetness. "Welcome to Avalon. The Seven have finally
come to fulfill their destiny, and I see that - " She stopped abruptly
upon seeing Veronica. A gasp stuck in her elegant throat. She saluted
her, her fist first striking her chest, then flying to her forehead, palm
out. "I am sorry for my lapse in grace, Milady. It's just that you look
so like her."
"My mother?" Veronica asked hopefully. "But you must have been very
young when she first came here."
The woman smiled, and it looked as though she were trying to contain
laughter at their ignorance of Avalon. But she kept her composure
perfectly. "Avalon is ageless. All who dwell here are safe from the touch
of time." She approached Veronica. 'Your mother is exactly as you
remember her."
Tears were streaming down Veronica's face. "I have to go to her."
The woman put an arm up to stop her, and though her touch was gentle,
Veronica was startled by the force of it. There seemed to be some kind of
energy adding force to the relatively small woman standing before them.
"No. Your duties will be explained to you in a few moments. Then,
there will be a feast tonight, in honor of the Seven. You will see your
mother then."
Now Veronica's face showed anger. "I have waited eleven years to see
my mother again. Now I'm finally here, and you tell me I have to just
stand here, knowing my mother is within these walls and not being able to
see her? No! I want to see her now! Doesn't she know that I'm here?
Doesn't she want to talk to me?" The sadness was starting to show.
"Saael, please, she has suffered enough." The voice was so familiar.
The explorers could not restrain their shock. Before them stood what
could have been Veronica's twin.
"Mother!"
"Veronica? Oh, my daughter!" They embraced for a veritable
eternity. Ned wiped a tear from his eye, hoping no one saw.
Veronica introduced the others one by one to her mother.
"I know you all. I have been watching."
Ned turned bright red. "Everything?"
Abigail laughed, Veronica's laugh. "Relax. I see in feelings, colors, and
light. never in physical forms. What all of you do is still secret and
private from me." She smiled at Marguerite, her eyes twinkling. "Welcome
to my kingdom." She gestured to all of them. "Your kingdom." And she
opened the gates of Avalon to them.
Inside was paradise. The air was liquid, and melted with the fountains and
rivers of light that surrounded them. Little eyes poked out from every
crevice, wide with curiosity. "They rarely see vaspie, foreigners. They
find you fascinating," Saael explained. The floors and walls were all
smooth, cool, marble mosaic. They walked over frescos that told the
history of the Plateau. Marguerite soon realized that she was standing on
a woman that looked remarkably like her. The Chosen One. She had in her
hand what was clearly a scroll, and appeared to be reading from it. She
was standing beside what the scroll had described as the House of Love.
That stupid cave.
Saael smiled. I see you are reading the history. Every twenty years, the
Plateau must fall and rise again. It is the Chosen One who guides the new
Protector to her place at the throne. Without her, Our Lady Protector would
be lost to us."
"It's true," Veronica confirmed. "I never could have gotten this far
without Marguerite." She looked around at the others. "These people are
my family."
Saael nodded, knowingly. "The Seven are always very close."
"Always?" John asked. "There have been others?"
"There have been many previously, and there will be many after you. Yet
you are quite possibly the strongest I've seen yet. Come now, it is time
to tell you what must be done.
*******************************************
"I thought Vee just had to sit on the throne and that would be the end of
it," Finn wondered.
"Normally," Abigail explained, "that is all that would need to be done.
That is what I did eleven years ago. But there are. . .complications this
time." She started the story. "Naturally, the Plateau would be safe for
another nine years, but I'm afraid I have changed that. I used too much of
the power in an effort to summon you all here. It was me who drew you
together, into the lives you lead, intertwined like a web of ribbons, and
the center where it all meets, where it all begins, is here and now.
"As you have seen, the future of the world is bleak. In one hundred years,
all but the Plateau will be destroyed. And those who dwell here," she
paused here to look at Finn a moment, "Will wish that this place had been
destroyed as well. The treachery that will destroy the world will begin
here. The only way to prevent this disaster is to make sure that outsiders
never set foot on this land. They will corrupt it. They will lay siege to
Avalon. The Protector of one hundred years from now will be taken hostage
The Plateau will be overrun with chaos and contaminated with human ill
will. This must never happen. From here, the destruction of the world
will begin; the weapon that will destroy everything. The Plateau is the one
place in the world that must never be touched with the ills of humanity.
Greed and a lust for power."
"But Marguerite's already here. Ow!" Roxton offered right on cue. "I was
only joking."
"The borders must be sealed!" Abigail said, commanding their attention.
"You are the only ones who can do that."
"How?" Ned asked, still feeling uncomfortable talking to Veronica's mother.
Especially since she was so,. . .well, hot. He hoped his nervousness
didn't show.
"That is the task of the magician. You must seal this place with great
protection. All of Avalon is at your beckon call.`
"I have said before, " Challenger protested. "I don't do magic. I don't
even believe in it."
Abigail was direct. "If you have lived on the Plateau for five years, and
still do not believe in magic, you are much more foolish than I have been
told. From the description of your colleague," here she gestured to
Summerlee, "You are the wisest man the world, and certainly the Plateau has
ever seen. Yet you fail to believe everything you see before you."
Summerlee interjected. "What she is talking about is not true magic, but
science that has not yet been attempted, the preternatural. She means a
bioelectrical field encompassing the Plateau, keeping anyone from entering.
That's not magic, that's science, a challenge perfect for the great George
Edward Challenger." Challenger seemed convinced.
"Can you do this?" Abigail wanted to know.
Challenger now looked skeptical. "It's never been attempted. But I
believe it's possible. I shall certainly try."
"What else needs to be done?" Veronica asked.
"The barrier between worlds has grown weak. The day of spirits is every
day now, and it is too much. The dead are not meant to be with the living
but once a year. The gate must be closed." She looked at Ned, who nodded.
"And last, but possibly most important, the damage that has been done must
be undone. The Chosen One must do this."
The look on Marguerite's face was grave. "What must I do?"
*******************************************
They dined that night on food they could never have imagined. Their entree
was some kind of exotic and flavorful meat none of them could identify,
tender and robust, but soft to their palettes, almost melting. This meat
was wrapped, floating in a milky gel, with vegetables, full of flavor and
yielding to the mouth. They gave way to gentle pressure, releasing a burst
of taste, in a layer of flaky soft dough. Though hot to eat, there were
pockets of cold within the little entree, that jolted the tongue awake,
making it more receptive to the flavor of the next bite. Saael informed
them that they were eating montuei, a delicacy of Avalon. They all praised
it and thanked her and the others for their hospitality.
Next they ate auntui, a sweet cake filled with the richest fruits any of
them had ever tasted. The top of the cake, in contrast to the soft middle,
was crunchy, and full of sweetness and a nutty richness that none of them
could really describe. When Veronica asked for the recipe, Saael laughed,
a laugh as sweet as the cake that they ate.
"I'm sorry, Milady, I don't mean to be rude. Yet you seem so strange to
me. It is impossible to make these things outside of Avalon. The beasts
that have become part of us in this meal roam only here. The fruits that
sacrifice themselves so kindly for our meal bloom only here." She smiled.
"Of course, the Seven are welcome here anytime, and you will always be
guests of honor."
"Complete luxury, never growing old. . .I don't suppose there's any real
estate on the market." Marguerite had finished her meal and was downing a
glass of wine that coated her mouth with sweetness, but left a bitter taste
on her tongue. Though it should have tasted terrible after eating the
sweet cake, it simply washed the flavor down with a gentle ease.
Saael looked slightly uncomfortable. "It is rare for anyone to leave. And
we must keep the balance. For too many to dwell here would invite Chaos."
Marguerite's laugh was something of a joke in itself. "We've met. I don't
think I like her."
"Yes," Saael said knowingly. "Chaos will assault the Chosen One." She
turned to Roxton. "The Warrior will protect you. He is pure of heart, and
unfailingly loyal.
"Rauep," Yes, Marguerite answered. "Lai febralal esarel vinari, sep
hanglei." All those things are true and more.
"Hey, no fair, Marg! Whatja say?"
"Yes," Roxton encouraged. "That really isn't very nice."
"I simply struck a comparison between you and a pathetic little puppy dog.
Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to retire to my room."
'I will show you the way." She took Marguerite by the arm. "Ti nap sae
sasara dinoera ta sacari?" She pried. You do not allow them to know of
your love?
"Lingt- dep li titanique." Never speak of this.
"Mep si esarel podri -" But it is written, and she was cut off.
"Ai amasei esarel renfal Nap si languarel esera. Finai." The prophesy is
wrong. It cannot be. Good night. There was definitely a bitter edge in
her voice, and Saael was surprised by it. She wasn't used to being cut off
like that. The people of Avalon never needed to cut anyone off, there was
always time for further disscussion. They often talked into all hours of
the day and night on one single topic, not arguing really, but trying to
understand the reality of the situation. For Marguerite to simply drop the
subject without trying to learn every aspect was both foreing and absurd to
Saael. Still, she did not seem particularly put off. The Chosen One was
always, to put it nicely, tempestuous. She smiled, remembering the
previous preistess. A tear came to her eye. What a tragedy that had been.
"Let us hope," she said to Abigail. "That the past will not repeat itself." Abigail nodded solemnly, put a hand on Roxton's shoulder. Ned leaned toward him. "What's that all about?" Roxton shrugged, begged his leave, and headed for Marguerite's quarters. The room was beautiful. The grass sprung under their feet like lush carpet. Roxton imagined that to walk here as the Avalons did, without shoes, was quite a pleasure, especially in the morning, when the dew would make make the grass luxuriously rich under one's feet. But although the floor was clothed in moss, the room was as elegant as any he had seen. Silky sheer fabric curtained the bed, and a lovely tapestry was on the wall. Roxton could tell that it portrayed the previous Chosen One, weilding a sword against some supernatural foe that looked like a cross between a wolf and an ape. He recognized her eyes, so cold. "Are you feeling allright?" She jumped. "You left in a bit of a hurry." "I'm fine. Don't you have someplace to be?" "You know, you still haven't answered my question." "I never do," Marguerite said with a dying laugh. "You should have figured that out by now." "I have, but I'll keep asking." "I know." She looked up at him sadly. ******************************************** "Veronica," the voice was soft and kindly. Her mother, exactly as Veronica rememered her. "It's been so long, and we haven't really had a chance to talk." The younger of the two (not that anyone could tell) was looking as through pools of water. "Why did you have to go, Mother?" "It was the hardest thing I ever did, Darling, believe me, but I had to. If I hadn't, the Plateau would have fallen. None of us would be here." She held her daughter close, seeing her in her mind's eye as the little girl she had left behind. "It's the way it had to be." She separated herself from her daughter, looked her in the eye as the grown woman she was. "But it broke my heart. I always loved you. I've been waiting for you." A look of sadness crossed her face, and she swallowed hard. "But now that you're here, I'ts your turn to take to the throne, and my time to step down." Veronica seemed puzzled. "Why? You're perfectly healthy. We can rule together. All of us."" "No. I know I look young, Veronica, but I'm not. I'm tired. I can't keep ruling, I'm too weak. I don't want to be young anymore." She laughed, a bitter sound. "I'm too old for it." A tear streamed down her cheek. "The change will be instantaneous, I won't feel anything. Saael has already appointed two of the strongest men here to escort me back to the treehouse." Her eyes glazed over at the thought of her home. "I'll be my proper age." Veronica was crying now. "I don't want you to go. I just found you again, and I don't want to loose you." "I'm sorry. I don't want to be without you, either. We'll be together again, someday. I know we will. Until then, I had to see you this one last time. I love you, Veronica. My thoughts will always be with you. But now, I must ride out of Avalon." She kissed Veronica's head, held her close. Then she mounted her elegant black horse, and rode into the night. And in this life, at least, Veronica Layton never saw her mother again ********************************************************************* Sorry for the downer, guys. I promise, I'm usually not so angsty!
Next week on The Lost World:
Saael's eyes. . . were glazed over with tears. It was indeed a dark day in the history of Avalon. She swallowed her sorrow and began to speak. "We come to bid farewell to one of the Seven, who meant so much to all of us. This tragedy has touched us all His goodness will not go unmarked. . . You will always be in our thoughts, dear Warrior. Now let us away, and allow the Chosen One her proper time to grieve. . ."
"Let us hope," she said to Abigail. "That the past will not repeat itself." Abigail nodded solemnly, put a hand on Roxton's shoulder. Ned leaned toward him. "What's that all about?" Roxton shrugged, begged his leave, and headed for Marguerite's quarters. The room was beautiful. The grass sprung under their feet like lush carpet. Roxton imagined that to walk here as the Avalons did, without shoes, was quite a pleasure, especially in the morning, when the dew would make make the grass luxuriously rich under one's feet. But although the floor was clothed in moss, the room was as elegant as any he had seen. Silky sheer fabric curtained the bed, and a lovely tapestry was on the wall. Roxton could tell that it portrayed the previous Chosen One, weilding a sword against some supernatural foe that looked like a cross between a wolf and an ape. He recognized her eyes, so cold. "Are you feeling allright?" She jumped. "You left in a bit of a hurry." "I'm fine. Don't you have someplace to be?" "You know, you still haven't answered my question." "I never do," Marguerite said with a dying laugh. "You should have figured that out by now." "I have, but I'll keep asking." "I know." She looked up at him sadly. ******************************************** "Veronica," the voice was soft and kindly. Her mother, exactly as Veronica rememered her. "It's been so long, and we haven't really had a chance to talk." The younger of the two (not that anyone could tell) was looking as through pools of water. "Why did you have to go, Mother?" "It was the hardest thing I ever did, Darling, believe me, but I had to. If I hadn't, the Plateau would have fallen. None of us would be here." She held her daughter close, seeing her in her mind's eye as the little girl she had left behind. "It's the way it had to be." She separated herself from her daughter, looked her in the eye as the grown woman she was. "But it broke my heart. I always loved you. I've been waiting for you." A look of sadness crossed her face, and she swallowed hard. "But now that you're here, I'ts your turn to take to the throne, and my time to step down." Veronica seemed puzzled. "Why? You're perfectly healthy. We can rule together. All of us."" "No. I know I look young, Veronica, but I'm not. I'm tired. I can't keep ruling, I'm too weak. I don't want to be young anymore." She laughed, a bitter sound. "I'm too old for it." A tear streamed down her cheek. "The change will be instantaneous, I won't feel anything. Saael has already appointed two of the strongest men here to escort me back to the treehouse." Her eyes glazed over at the thought of her home. "I'll be my proper age." Veronica was crying now. "I don't want you to go. I just found you again, and I don't want to loose you." "I'm sorry. I don't want to be without you, either. We'll be together again, someday. I know we will. Until then, I had to see you this one last time. I love you, Veronica. My thoughts will always be with you. But now, I must ride out of Avalon." She kissed Veronica's head, held her close. Then she mounted her elegant black horse, and rode into the night. And in this life, at least, Veronica Layton never saw her mother again ********************************************************************* Sorry for the downer, guys. I promise, I'm usually not so angsty!
Next week on The Lost World:
Saael's eyes. . . were glazed over with tears. It was indeed a dark day in the history of Avalon. She swallowed her sorrow and began to speak. "We come to bid farewell to one of the Seven, who meant so much to all of us. This tragedy has touched us all His goodness will not go unmarked. . . You will always be in our thoughts, dear Warrior. Now let us away, and allow the Chosen One her proper time to grieve. . ."