I see the end of a dangerous and perilous journey, on which each and every one of your companions will eventually be lost. First to fire…then water…then air…then earth…then love…then lust…then anger…then bunny rabbits. After all of your companions have fallen, and you are left alone, you will find your one true love dangling under your nose. It will be up to you to acknowledge your feelings, and choose a life of happiness, or fall into eternal misery. – Emma the Fortune Teller to Neal.
We caught a ship the same day and set off to Yaman. Our hopes were high for the coming weeks, as we were sure to be received well, having Roald with us. The Captain gave us good news when he told us how he'd carried you to Yaman on the very ship, about three months back.
All was going well, as we spent our time lazing around and helping Owen recover from his sea sickness, until the third day, when narrative causality struck. There was a storm in the middle of the night, which somehow hadn't been seen coming. Everyone was unprepared. We were asleep (not in hammocks, which we'd discovered after a few hard nights were the sailors' idea of a joke for 'landlubbers') when a sudden wild jerk knocked us off our beds. I scrambled up, fully awake, as did Seaver.
We raced to the top deck as the others stared groggily around. The deckhands and crew were already in action, pulling ropes and securing them with complicated, quick-fingered knots. The Captain bellowed orders, fighting to be heard against the loud howling of the wind, and thundering rain. He had just spotted us and was turning to yell something when a long, white, burning streak flashed down out of the sky and struck the mast. Obviously, it caught fire.
Luckily, the rain seemed to be beating the worst of it out. We were staring up at the stark flames, along with most of the crew, when a small burning chunk splintered off and began to fall, dropping towards the captain whose attention was now turned to something out at sea. As if in slow motion, Seaver hurtled across the deck and jumped on the Captain, pushing him aside in a classic hero manoeuvre. His foot was hit by the blazing chunk of wood, and he jerked violently and knocked the wood aside. The sodden deck refused to catch fire and the wood was tossed overboard by a deckhand as I rushed forward to beat the sparks out of Seaver's smouldering foot. He sat up and clutched at his ankle, gasping in pain.
Destiny decided to draw the event out. Perhaps he felt that life hadn't thrown enough angst and pain at us for a while.
The others chose this moment to appear, crowding through the doors to the lower deck along with a few of the braver passengers. Owen took in the sight of Seaver, twitching on the deck, and myself crouching over him. He rushed over to help, feet sliding awkwardly on the deck as he dodged around various members of the crew. Roald followed him reluctantly. He's always somehow felt that Owen is his responsibility, even after Owen attained some (small) measure of sense.
As Owen slipped and skidded towards me, the deck lurched again, to the right. Everyone else clutched for some support, but Owen clumsily tumbled down and slithered across the deck on his back, hit the side with a muffled thud, and went over, his yells of surprise lost in the sound of the storm. Roald skidded uncontrollably towards the side of the ship behind Owen, but managed to clutch at the side and stay on board as the ship heaved again.
He started yelling over the side at someone and gesturing wildly with his hands, so I assumed that he could still see Owen, and after shoving Seaver into the arms of two deckhands, all of whom were rather sensibly tying themselves down, made my way, rather more carefully, over to help. Roald's legs were dangling overboard, as he reached down to help, but he was clinging to the to the inside of the ship determinedly.
Fal followed me clumsily as the remaining passengers looked on from behind the doors in interest. Most of them seemed to be used to storms, and many were signalling clearly that we were raving loonies who should get back below deck.
We, obviously, ignored them.
Fal and I had just reached the side when Roald lost his grip and slithered over. We jumped to grab his arms but had to stop and steady ourselves as the ship gave another alarmingly steep heave. We peered carefully over the side and saw a panic-stricken Owen gripping the bits of carved wood, about 10 feet down the side of the wretched boat, with Roald now hanging onto his waist and being periodically dunked into the sea as the ship tossed.
I would have laughed if I'd thought I had a chance of being heard. Reaching automatically for rope, I found that there was none.
"Where the hell is the rope!" I yelled at Fal, over the wind. He gave an exaggerated shrug.
"It's a bloody ship!" I shouted, as I pulled off my tunic and shirt, and he followed suit. I doubt he could hear much of what I was saying, but I was yelling mostly to reassure myself. You know a situation isn't too bad when you can yell at it. "There's supposed to be rope! There's always rope in the books!"
Fal began to knot our clothes together.
"Welcome to the real life Neal!" He bawled, tossing our makeshift rope over the side. It made no real difference being half naked. Instead of being sodden, clothed and drenched, I was just drenched. The endless rain was painful though, striking our backs and arms like needles.
Owen managed to clasp our cord with one hand, the knight training coming in handy as we hauled himself and Roald up, and retreated below deck, where we were forced to relay exactly what had happened to all of the passengers crowded in the medical cabin. At least we could hear ourselves think in there, as the sounds outside were muffled. We weren't worried about drowning, the crew seemed experienced.
"Funny that." Prosper said suddenly, after we'd told our story to a group of nine-year-old girls for the fourth time.
"What's that?" Warric asked, looking at him. Prosper hesitated, then replied slowly.
"First to fire, then water, then air."
It took us a moment to grasp what he was referring to.
"Roald wasn't lost to air." Fal argued.
"Was." Prosper replied insistently. Fal turned to look at Roald, lying two beds down, cocooned into his bed against the regular lurching by a nest of sheets. He was gingerly examining his bandaged ribs.
"Roald, you lost your grip because it was wet, right? Slippery sides?"
But that wasn't right, I realised, because he'd hung on for a full minute before falling. He wouldn't have been able to do that if the side had been too slippery. Roald glanced up and shrugged.
"It was blowing a gale out there, the wind was pulling me away."
Fal scowled. Prosper leaned back looking smug.
"I think you're reading into this a bit much." Iden announced, from his chair. "I mean, Seaver, Roald and Owen are hardly lost. Burnt foot, dislocated shoulders, fractured ribs, yes, but they're not dead or anything."
"An astute observation." Roald muttered sarcastically.
"Perhaps she just meant lost to our quest." Merric suggested, getting into the spirit of things. The whole 'quest' idea seemed to be catching. "I mean, it would have to be an awfully big coincidence to mean-"
"Perhaps we should just wait." Fal interrupted snidely, "And see if any of us are lost to bunny rabbits."
Iden and Warric snickered whilst Merric simply glared.
As soon as we reached Yaman, Seaver, Roald and Owen were put, amidst much grumbling, straight on a boat back home. We continued our journey to find Kel, alone.
Until…disaster struck. Again.
Well, yes, I'm actually exaggerating again. What actually happened was that Warric tripped over a cunningly placed root into one of those inevitable trap pits, which are always being dug all over the place, although nothing but innocent humans ever seems to fall into them. I think the natives just do it for amusement.
Anyway, Warric broke his leg, and we had to spend the next two hours getting him out. This meant that we then had to hurry on to the next town, carrying him all the way, in the dark, to get him healed, as water always interferes with my magic and every time I tried to heal him I only ended up setting the nearby foliage on fire.
All the while, Merric kept chanting under his breath "And then to Earth…", until Fal stomped on his foot and told him in no uncertain, slightly rude Scanran terms, that if he didn't shut up he would soon find himself dangling upside down in a well.
We were all a little more quiet after that.
We reached the town finally, and hurried to the small doctors surgery, which was surprisingly cheap. We sat in the waiting room and tried to ignore the screams of pain emitting from the next room. I had just settled back for some sleep when a glowing circle of light appeared in mid-air, directly in front of a dozing Prosper, who woke up in a hurry as Merric prodded him. The rough outlines of a shining face appeared.
"Wha-"
"Prosper of Tamaran!" The face shrieked, "have you any idea how sick with worry I've been? Not so much as a goodbye and you're off! Gallivanting with your friends again! Well, no more. If you aren't back within a week, you'll never be coming home to me again! So don't come crying!"
The circle contracted and disappeared with an outraged zip, and we sat there, feeling bewildered.
"Who was that?" I asked Prosper.
"My wife." He said miserably. "Neal, if she's that upset, then I don't think I'm going to be able to go on with you."
I scrambled up with a start.
"You're aren't thinking of leaving, are you? Because-"
"You heard her Neal. She said she'll leave me if I'm not back within the week. And…I can't lose her.
"Lost to love." Merric murmured quietly. Fal groaned and rested his head in his hands, clearly too fatigued to argue.
"I told you to shut up about that." He muttered, half-heartedly. "Besides, how anyone could love a shrew like that is beyond me."
Luckily, the door opened before Prosper had the chance to act upon his instinct to defend his wife's honour. Or perhaps I should say unluckily. Yes, I think you know what's coming. Lost to fire, water, air, earth, love…roll on the lust. And she did.
Through the door sauntered a tall, beautiful blonde, plump in all the right places, wearing just enough clothing to suggest, without being vulgar. Her clear brown eyes swept over us. Fal and I, being slightly more mature than the others, managed not to lose our heads in the first few seconds. Iden was hypnotised instantly. His jaw actually unhinged slightly, his eyes widened, and he would have drooled had Merric not leaned over to snap his mouth smoothly shut.
"Afternoon boys." The blonde smiled. She was a Yamani, so her hair was probably dyed. Iden nodded dreamily at her. She tossed her hair over one slender shoulder.
"The doc'll probably see you know. I'm all done." She paused at the door, before flicking back a card with an expert twitch of her wrist. It skimmed through the air and landed on the small table in the centre of the room.
"In case any of you were thinking of visiting me later." She smiled deeply, and her eyes skimmed our faces again, before coming to rest on Iden's with an approving smile. He met her gaze in adoration. Fal was trying to suppress a tired laugh. The Yamani gave a final smirk and left, the door swinging shut behind her.
"Did you see that?" Iden gasped as the door clanged shut. "She smiled at me."
"And then to lust." Merric murmured. This seemed to be too much for Fal's nerves, frayed from weeks of sharing a cabin with Merric and his superstition, as well as a two hour hike through the forest. He turned and punched Merric squarely in the face.
Fal did later claim that his temper was due to the series of various idiotic accidents, and mounting worry (despite his cynical front) about the fortune teller's prediction.
Whatever his excuse, a rough exchange of punches between himself and Merric soon developed into a full-blown brawl.
A melee of broken glass and splintered chairs (compulsory for every good brawl) ensued, and half an hour later, they were sitting beside Warric with his newly splintered leg, in the surgery, clutching various injuries, and refusing adamantly to apologise to one another.
My own nerves were getting a little frayed by that point.
"He started it." Merric was stubbornly pointing out, whilst holding ice to a rapidly swelling black eye, "And I refuse to travel in a group where I am seen as a punching bag!"
"Not you too!" I howled, beating my head with my fists.
"And then to anger." Prosper pointed out from the corner. He turned to look at Merric. "Let's go. We should head back to the docks if we're going to be there before midnight. We'll drop you off at her house Iden."
…And then there were two. Fal looked desperately at me.
"Does this mean that I'm going to be involved in a dreadful accident concerning bunny rabbits?" He asked, piteously. I sighed, and shrugged.
"Look on the bright side Fal." I told him wearily, "what can a bunny rabbit do that could possibly be worse than what the others have suffered?"
He relaxed.
"You're right Neal." He said, "What could possibly be worse?"
"Neal?"
"Yes Fal?"
"You remember yesterday, when you told me it couldn't be worse?"
"Yep."
"This is worse Neal. This is much, much worse."
I sighed.
"You're over reacting Fal. The little rabbit just likes you. Isn't she cute? Look at her woffly little nose."
An outraged pause.
"Neal, there are four bunny rabbits rubbing themselves suggestively against my legs."
"Five. One's just attached itself to your right heel." I muffled a snigger. A passing woman stopped, and looked on in amusement.
"It is mating season." She pointed out to Fal, in Tortallan. Fal's eyes widened as I tried not to laugh. He spluttered.
"They think I'm a male bunny rabbit."
The woman grinned delightedly, showing crooked teeth.
"I'd say they think you're a female rabbit. Seeing's all of them on your legs is male."
I snorted a helpless hysteric laugh, but managed to turn it into a racking cough. Fal closed his eyes and tried not to hyperventilate.
"Maybe it's something you've eaten." The woman suggested. More people were gathering to stare in various degrees of amusement. I got the impression that nothing exciting happened much over there. Fal held up a hand to silence her.
"Neal." He murmured. "I will not be defeated. Let's get going right now, before more of these pesky creatures appear. The doctor definitely said that Kel had passed through these woods, right? So let's get going. Now. Please."
"Are you sure Fal?" I asked, in genuine concern. He nodded resolutely. I sighed.
You're sure that you want to travel through Rabbit's Woods?"
The colour drained from his face.
"What?!" He asked, in panic.
"Rabbit's Woods." The woman supplied cheerfully. "Totally infested with them. They seem to like you though. A lot." She chortled as Fal glared, before turning to me in desperation.
"Neal…I'm sorry, but-"
I held up my hands, sniggering. I hadn't really expected him to last.
"It's quite all right, I understand. Kel can't have gone much further anyway."
Fal nodded in relief.
"Good." He glanced down at the writhing bunnies which enveloped his lower legs. "Erm…a little help?"
A/N:
Yes, Neal and his friends are OOC. Yes, the story is juvenile, and full of bad humour, and much too fast-paced, and I really should be trying to write seriously. Yes, the writing styleneeds work (which it isn't going to get, as I stated in the opening note), and yes, I'm sorry, this is a K/N (as I also implied in the opening note). Forgive me.
I'll leave you lovely people with a little quote and bad comedy, inspired by Lynsi.
"We're not gay…just merry." Robin Hood: Men in Tights. Funny film that.
Thanks to LadyKnight Keladry of Masbolle, Celefindel, heartdamoose, Atled Willy, PsychoLioness13, Atlanta Enchanted, Wake-Robin, The ORIGINAL Meathead, Lady Angelique of Mystique, Lynsi, and, of course, Jess.
Unlike certain other authors, I do offer cookies to reviewers.