BOOK OF REEVES 6!
Note: I know many of you are thinking "Boy that last chapter sucked". And so I apologize, I was in a hurry to get out the next chapter, and to move along the story that I completely ignored the quality of the story. I hope you'll find it in your heart to forgive me.
Reeves had spent the last half hour stumbling around the city trying to find his way to the Writer's Tower. When he had finally found it, he discovered that the key Exia had given him would not work at all or help him even in the slightest bit. There were three locks along the giant pen-nib shaped door, and a pedestal with a pattern etched into it sitting not to far away.
He looked at the door; there was a green lock, a yellow lock, and a red lock. The red one was on the top, the green to the left, and the red to his right. He could change the color of the lights by touching them, and they all alternated the colors aforementioned.
He walked over to the pedestal, and saw the D'ni symbols for Yellow, Green, and Red, respectively.
"Grargh!" He shouted (which means nothing in particular) and picked up the pedestal, and through it against the door, breaking one of the locks. With a smile he picked up the pedestal and continued the process until all locks were broken, and the door slid open.
Cautiously he walked inside. Pushing the doors aside, he let some of the moonlight into the room. He soon saw however, that all his efforts were useless. And that the room was completely empty. Except for one lone pillar on the far wall.
The inside was completely smooth, and appeared to be made of Nara, there were no second floors. Instead a large shaft that led straight up to the top of the "Pen" and through a hole in the top, Reeves could see a bit of the sky, though he could only see part of a star through it.
He sighed and leaned against the pillar, rethinking his actions. He hardly knew any of the people, and it wouldn't be that bad to just completely abandon them… that is, if they weren't of D'ni descent.
"Maker Help me!" He shouted, with a small tear of anger in his eyes.
Suddenly there was a loud grinding mechanical noise, and the doors swung closed. He could hear the locks dropping to the floor outside, and something replacing them.
He stood up from the pillar just in time, for it suddenly slid down into the ground and was replaced by a large metal rod, that slowly stretched to the top of the tower. At the same time, one wall rotated and revealed a bookshelf, and another rotated to reveal a corpse of a man resting in a D'ni throne, and above him was a holographic projector.
After that, the room fell silent again. Reeves stood perfectly still, thinking that one move and something might lunge out and attack him. Eventually he slowly walked towards the corpse. And saw that the hand has grasping a lever. Reeves pushed the rotting hand to the side, and pulled the lever.
"Ah… you've come… and the donuts, did you bring the donuts?" he heard a voice say.
"Pardon?!" Responded Reeves.
"Oh nevermind." The voice said, as Reeves turned around and saw that the holographic display had created an image of a familiar person, right behind him.
"Who?" began Reeves, but he couldn't remember his original question.
"It doesn't matter who I am, as I'm sure you are asking, but it is why you are here. You see, when my forefathers created this age, they did not know exactly what they had done. It's actually kind of funny. They didn't have enough ink, and they were working around the clock to write this age. So, to make up for lack of ink, they diluted it with D'ni lake water. Little did they know what kind of effect it would have."
Reeves stared at the image. It seemed frozen in place, and he had missed most of what the person had just said. He continued watching the man, for he was very familiar, and Reeves couldn't help thinking he had seen him before.
He took a step closer to examine the man, but just as he did, the image suddenly flickered back to life again, and continued it's speech.
"This age is severely unstable, and something must be done about it. The original descriptive book has been lost, so no changes can be made to it. The odd thing is, unlike most unstable ages; this one is constantly shifting, and changing. People that used linking books to get here have gotten used to the shifting, and the natives don't notice it."
Reeves suddenly remembered the sickening lurch he had experienced after staring at the tree, and tried to remember what was different about it. He tried to remember the branches, or was it the roots?
"My new writer, I have given you the ink, and the books. You must write a new age for these people to evacuate into before this age collapses. It was estimated by the ancients, that the last shift would occur when the star of Randaar entered the tip of this pen, and when it does, this age will end. Shorah, and may the Maker be with you."
The imager flickered and then turned off, leaving Reeves completely alone, and not knowing what to do.
He looked up the shaft again, and realized that the star mentioned was probably the one he saw above. He then looked at the bookshelf and walked over to it. There was a linking book to D'ni, a few blank books, and a few ages he hadn't heard of. He piled all the written books on top of each other, and opened up one of the blank books. He saw a pen inside, and nearby on the shelf were a view vials of ink.
"Continent." He began. And then began writing furiously, and as quickly as possible.
…
Meanwhile Exia stayed at the feast, keeping a close eye on Korek and his soldiers. She also tried to keep close to her father to make sure she would know when the meeting was about to start. Her father spent much of the night searching out the most potent foods, avoiding the "bland" ones.
After a few minutes with his soldiers Korek tapped on Gorn's shoulder and then whispered something into his ear. Exia leaned in close to listen in on what he was saying, but was unable to make anything out. He seemed to be speaking a strange language. A soft and somewhat enchanting one. Exia stared at Korek, something about him made him seem much more…
Suddenly she snapped out of it. Whatever Korek was doing it seemed to effect her father too and he immediately relaxed and followed Korek to a stage that had been set up by some soldiers. Korek smiled as he began a speech.
…
"So this is where she brought you."
Reeves jumped at the sound of another voice in the room. He turned to see one of the uniformed soldiers had entered the room.
"How did you?" Reeves tried to ask.
"It was a relatively simple puzzle. The only reason why the natives couldn't enter was due to the fact that it scanned the DNA of whoever used it."
"ah…" Reeves' voice trailed off and he looked down at the book he was writing. He was being careful so he wouldn't have to rewrite any of it.
"Listen kid. I don't know who you are, or why you have our blood in it. The Dynasty said not to mingle with these people."
"How should I know why I am here?"
"Who are your parents?" The soldier demanded.
"I don't know. I was orphaned and raised… in another world." Reeves smiled at his newfound honesty.
"I don't have time for games. This planet is due for destruction tonight if Korek doesn't get the technology. Now tell me, who are your parents?" the soldier was getting impatient, and looked as if he was ready to rip Reeves' in half.
"I don't have time for this either, I must provide an escape for these people!" Reeves shouted, throwing his pen on the desk.
"By writing in your journal?" The man picked up the book and stared at it. "This looks like childish scribblings!"
"It's not! If you don't believe me I'll show you!" Reeves said, then reached for a book.
"Don't take another move… until you tell me who your parents are." The man said; reaching for a jagged blade that had suddenly appeared out of nowhere on his waist.
Reeves obeyed the man's orders, and quickly scanned the pile of books, beginning to realize what they all were. One was a linking book to D'ni, one was a harvest age, one a Prisoners Age, and another a death age. All were for him to look at for examples, and to be used by the D'ni in their new age.
He looked at the name of the death age; "Rehmtahmtee" was its name. Reeves knew that whoever touched the panel would no doubt be immediately destroyed. Then he looked at the Prisoners Age, its name, was Shoomor.
"May I show you something? One of my stories while I try to remember my parent's name?" Reeves asked.
The soldier smiled, but readied his ugly sword in case something might happen. "Sure… as long as you don't try anything funny."
Reeves smiled and thanked him put on some gloves, and reaching for one of the books. He started his recently rehearsed speech; "My father was a storyteller, and also an artist. He wrote this book for me when I was very young. Would you like to see the pictures he drew?" Reeves tried desperately to sound somewhat childish, and occasionally twitched his eye.
The man smiled, lowering his blade a little. "Of course I would, just keep thinking about your father."
Reeves turned toward the middle of the book; there was a picture of a planet on it. "My father could draw pictures that felt real. "Here, touch this planet, and feel its people." Reeves said in a somewhat whimpering tone. The soldier nodded and felt the picture.
Reeves smiled but didn't let the soldier see. He continued showing him pictures and telling him parts of a story about a kid whose parent's abandoned him, and how he was exiled from his home deep below the planet. The soldier was slowly getting more interested in the story, and was willing to touch each picture that Reeves asked him to.
"My father… would always ask me to touch this painting for him. It was something we both loved to do because he spent many hours preparing this painting in the front of the book. Would you like to touch it with me?" Reeves asked.
The soldier smiled, knowing that as Reeves dug deeper into his psyche he would soon know his father's name. He nodded as Reeves turned to the front page. All he saw was a black picture.
Reeves was quick to explain; "Now came the time when we'd close our eyes and touch the picture and imagine what that child must have gone through. I'll go first." Reeves reached forward, his eyes closed, and touched the panel with his gloved hands. He frowned and said "Sadness."
He then lifted his palm and gestured for the soldier to do so. The soldier wasn't so quick this time. "Have you remembered your parent's name's yet?" he asked.
"Soon…" Reeves said quietly, "Maybe when the story is over." He said with a smile.
"Good. Because if you haven't noticed already, it's been nearly an hour since we started this silly game of yours, and Korek should be mid-way through his speech. And if you don't remember, I'll take out your bowels with my sword, and then we'll destroy this frustrating planet and move on with my life." The soldier gave a cruel smile and Reeves faked a whimper, but deep down he knew he wouldn't have enough time to finish writing the age. He didn't from the beginning but it was worth trying.
"Father…" Reeves began, "would sometimes tell me his family tree after the story was over so I wouldn't forget our lineage."
"It certainly didn't help much did it?" The soldier said with a sigh.
"Please… I can help you only if you help me." Reeves said, struggling very hard to fake a tear.
"Alright fine!" The soldier shouted. And thrust his hand down palm first onto the panel. In an instant, there was the familiar sound of someone linking. Reeves closed his eyes, and when it was over, opened them and look around the room. It was empty, though the soldier had left a few things behind because they weren't completely attached to him.
Reeves looked at the book that had sealed the soldier's fate, and set it aside, promising to never use it again.
He looked back to the book he had been writing, and realized there was no chance that he could ever finish it in time. He instead would have to alter an already written book, and finish the book he was writing later.
He reached for the harvest age, and was pleased to see it was a descriptive book. Its name was Gilogedee. Reeves snorted at the name and changed it to Iglarno. He then looked at what it was made of. It was an age of intoxicating plants, herbs, and medicines. He sighed as he realized this was going to take more work than he thought.
AUTHORS NOTE: I just wanted to say... stay tuned because the next chapter is the conclusion.