'The Chronicles of Evania'
Chapter 3: All That He Wished

(o)

"I hope that the floor isn't too uncomfortable for you," Gendo continued, staring intently at the pair over the narrow rims of glasses perched just below his eye line.

His features were sharp and angular; the skin pulled tightly over the bone, as if he were wearing not so much a face, as a sheet of paper fastened tightly about his skull. His mouth was a horizontal line that veered away threateningly at both ends, the beginnings of a stunted smile that would never grow beyond an arrogant smirk.

"I never foresaw the need for other chairs in my private study. Not that you'll be seated for long, of course, but formalities must be maintained."

Shinji could see no option but to play his part in the feigned conformity, and descended carefully to the floor, making sure that Asuka was supported until he was sitting on the cold marble with her head cushioned against his lap.

Observing that this step was complete, Gendo shifted himself forward in his chair until Shinji was enveloped in his towering shadow.

"Now that we're comfortable, there is the small matter of your trespassing past the limits that we have discussed on prior occasions. What have you to say for yourself?"

"I- we never meant to come this far. We were just exploring Asuka's attic and then- the passage, we just went a little way along- the door.."

"So then, a misunderstanding."

"Yes. Yes, father."

"Well," the smirk deepened, "however coincidental your arrival, you have chosen or been chosen a most opportune time. I have withdrawn my presence, as you know, from the public eye. The decision has paid off, and I have acquired some objects of considerable value. Entrusting them to your care so spontaneously is not an appealing alternative, but it must be done."

"Me- my care? Father, I've done as you've asked so far, but you must help Asuka! She's breathing but- I can't wake her up!"

"That is.. to be expected. She has encountered a defence that her infantile mind could not possibly prepare her for. That she survived at all is a curiosity. I do not deal in chance."

"So," Shinji struggled to retain control over his emotions. He wouldn't cry in front of his father. He'd promised himself that.

"You won't help her?"

His darker-haired father did not reply immediately, and the younger Ikari was on the verge of rising. There was another door to the room, a way to the left of the desk, and Shinji wondered if it too was unlocked. He had to get Asuka away from here – that much was certain. The nearest hospital was Guy's and at least a mile into the city, but it was all he could think of. Gendo, following his gaze, gave a small cough.

"That door is now locked, as is the one you have entered by. You are quite welcome to try the handles, but it is more than likely that you will enter the same pathetic state as your friend – a condition which, tragically, I have no way of reversing. There is one option open to you if you wish to save her diminishing life, and that is to listen carefully."

Realising that they had once again entered into the current of formality that so pervaded their household, Shinji could only nod his assent. There was no question of resistance against such a man, as his mother had learnt so long ago.

Gendo reached into his desk drawer and brought forth a box the like of which few men of Earth have ever witnessed. It was finely wrought in gold aspect upon a base of burnished silver. Most noticeable of all was the symbol inlaid at its centre, that of a winged lion accompanied by a curved hunting horn.

"This," he declared, flipping open the box's wreathed clasp and gently raising the lid, "this is the cornerstone of all that I have worked for these past fourteen years. The Lilith prophylactic amulet of Arslan Tash."

(o)

The amulet itself, small enough to be held between the finger and thumb, did not inherit any of the traits borne by its container; indeed, it appeared to be of a period, or world, entirely different to that which shielded it. Hewn of a rough, dull rock, it was clear that its significance lay in the markings carved into its upward face.

"Three figures, one prophecy," Gendo intoned, irreverently tugging the artefact from its berth by a length of string tied through a perforation at the apex of the object.

"On the front are engraved images of the Sphinx and the Lupercali. The back is worn beyond recovery, but the third figure is likely Hephaestus. The original may hold the answers to these questions, but that is of little concern to you."

"The original? So this is- "

"A forgery, but hardly worthless. It fooled the Syrian archaeologists for seventy years, and doubtless would have continued to do so. Had it not been acquired for more worthy purposes."

"You stole it?"

What remained of Gendo's grin disappeared and with a sudden motion, he snapped the box closed.

"I forget on occasion that you are still a child. The task you must perform over the next few hours may be beyond you, and I may have made a grave miscalculation."

"Task?" Shinji's voice quavered under mounting concern. "Father, we have to help Asuka, before anything else. Make her better and I'll do anything you say, but please.."

Gendo considered his estranged son through a layer of tinted glass. "Has it not occurred to you that the two are linked? That there may be some greater purpose behind this? Of course not. You're just as shallow-minded as your mother was."

"Don't. Don't ever talk about mother like that."

"She was a fool."

"No!"

"You're no better. Now listen carefully to my instructions. They must be followed exactly."

"What if," the young boy held back a sob, wiping his hands hastily across his eyes as though that would bring an end to the pain, "what if I don't do what you want?"

It was not a grin, nor a smirk that graced the man's face, but a genuine, heartfelt smile. "Suffice to say that, should you fail, sleeping beauty here will never wake."

(o)

Meanwhile.

Asuka awoke to realise she was falling. She had no idea for how long, or how far she had fallen, but most troubling was the realisation that she could not recall anything before the fall, or indeed having tripped or jumped at all.

She tried to look down and make out what she was coming to, but it was too dark to see anything; then she looked at the sides of the tunnel, which she was quite sure had not been there a moment ago, and noticed that they were filled with cupboards and book-shelves: here and there-

"I know this," Asuka breathed, catching sight of maps and pictures hung upon pegs, and jars of- "Orange Marmalade."

Asuka had been here many times before, in her mind's eye, for was it not the opening chapter of her favourite book? The long descent down, down, down (would the fall never come to an end?) the rabbit hole and into the bizarre fairytale world of Wonderland. How on earth had she gotten here, of all places?

"Curiouser and curiouser," she murmured.

(o)

"Suffice to say that, should you fail, sleeping beauty here will never wake."

That decided it, surely. Shinji wished he could be a million miles away from the man who was his father, and the inevitable tragedy that would follow shadow-like in the wake of his actions.

"All that I'm asking is for you to travel to a place and make an exchange of the objects. Only the original will have the necessary power to save your friend here."

"Power? Heal?" Shinji whispered, attempting to discern his father's icy intention, "stones don't have the power to heal! Nothing in the world works like that. There has to be another reason. You never do anything without a reason."

The faintest hint of that seldom-used smile tugged at the corners of Gendo's mouth, but his eyes remained cold. The boy had matured somewhat, intellectually at least. Underestimation was a clever man's downfall, was it not? The trick was to reveal only so much as to justify the cause. Best to occupy his thoughts, then.

"The 'stone' this amulet is a replica of, has enough power to restore not only your friend there, but your mother."

"M-mother?"

"The way for her is already prepared, but this one may only be brought back while she still clings to life. Her ship is already sunk beneath the waves and only the crow's nest remains afloat. You must be quick."

Shinji sat silently for a few moments looking at the floor to avoid his father's commandeering eyes. Internally, a battle raged on.

'It makes sense, doesn't it? To save Asuka and mother?' But there was something else to his father's mission – there always was. 'For father not to have done this himself, it has to be dangerous.'

Shinji spoke quietly, at last raising his head to meet Gendo's unflinching gaze. "Where is this place?"

(o)

Somewhat Later.

Shinji's first realisation was that he was underwater, and as is to be expected of someone who has never learnt to swim, he began to panic as his lungs quickly filled with the cold fluid. He closed his mouth as tight as he could, but it had already infiltrated his nostrils and there was nowhere else for the air to escape from. A chilly calm settled over the young Ikari as he surrendered to the insistent liquid.

"It's not like last time," he thought aloud. "There were people all around me, but they didn't know I couldn't swim." He could remember it through a watery haze; mothers holding their babies afloat, a small waterfall off to the side with other children sitting beneath it, seeing how long they could last. The steps to the pool, just a few strokes away. But he'd never made a stroke. Never completed a width. His arms flailed wildly. Undisciplined. Uncoordinated. He was sinking to the bottom of the pool, people moving to avoid kicking him with their legs, thinking he was diving down.

"Help," he whispered quietly.

(o)

Asuka hurriedly let go of the jar and winced as she heard it crash from wall to wall until it was beyond her hearing. What had at first looked to be a jar of pickled gherkins was revealed to contain some things that Rabbis might once have removed from their patients.

'I don't remember those being in the book,' thought Asuka to herself, suppressing another shudder, 'in fact I'm certain Carroll wouldn't have told such a disgusting thing to a young child. This has a distinct Wicker Man feel to it.'

Down, down and down. The shelves contained nothing but books now, a complete a-z of every author she had ever read. Realising this as Brontë's Jane Eyre flashed by, Asuka saw her chance and grabbed as many Cs as she could. In amongst Chaucer, Coleridge, Congreve and Conrad, was what she recognised delightedly to be her own 1968 edition of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass.

"Where am I right now?" Asuka wondered aloud, flipping quickly through the introduction and into the first chapter. "Oh, middle of page twenty-six; 'there was nothing else to do, so Asuka soon began talking again.' Shinji'll be missing me, I should think. (Shinji was the boy next door.) I hope he remembers to wash in the morning. Shinji, you idiot! I wish you were down here with me! There's nothing really to be afraid of here, but you might get whingy, and that's very like being afraid, you know. But do Shinjis get whingy, I wonder?"

Asuka began to get rather sleepy at this point, and might have continued this for some time in the manner of 'Do Shinjis get whingy?' Do Shinjis get whingy?' and sometimes, 'Do whingys get Shinji?' for while the first question was easily an affirmative, the second left open so many possibilities.

She might have indeed thought a lot more upon it, if the fall hadn't suddenly ended with a 'thump! thump!' that left her not a bit hurt upon a heap of sticks and dry leaves.

The room she had fallen into, with its Edwardian whitewashed walls and richly carpeted floor, looked nothing like what she remembered the description to be. Asuka hurriedly reopened the book and skimmed page twenty-seven, but even as she did so, the pages crumbled to dust in her hands.

"This," Asuka declared, brushing the remains from her hands and dress, and staring up at the crystal chandelier adorning the roof, "is a decidedly unfamiliar ceiling."

(o)

To Be Continued.

It's been a while, I know. The move to a novel layout will be continued, as it's good practise for writing professionally. I also think it improves the dialogue pacing, but I expect there will be at least one negative comment on the subject.

I'm actually moving a lot more slowly than I'd imagined I would. This is largely due to skimping on chapter length, but re-reading the source material and researching the amulet (Google it, it'll provide some insight into what Lewis was working with, and where I intend to go) made me want to take the story in an entirely different direction. The best-laid plans of mice and men..

Many, many thanks to Penguin and Lewis Carroll.

To my aunt, for giving me the book when I was little.

To Christopher Lee, for keeping that icky scene in the film.