Chapter 24: Auntie Margareta
Shannon looked up at the ceiling of her prison and heaved a deep sigh. She didn't want to be left behind while Creighton and Izzy were released, but there was no manipulating the likes of Montalban in the position she was in. Undoubtedly it involved Matt, and there was simply no way she would have done such a task anyway. Her resolve would have landed her back in this jail, and even though Creighton and Izzy were set out on such a task, she knew they would at least work well together to do what they could...at least, she hoped they would. Creighton might tear into Matt over the matter, but Izzy would at least keep a cool head.
"Dinner's on!"
Shannon got up from the bed she was lying on. The prison conditions were at least accommodating; if one wasn't aware of it, they would think that the cells were more like miniature condos. Each one was well-furnished with a nice clean bed, a small armchair, and a bathroom to give the inmates some privacy. Of course, the bars were still just beyond the front door that lead into each cell, the one true reminder that they were imprisoned. Shannon was pretty sure that prisons not owned by the governing faction were illegal, but considering that Montalban likely held the power and influence to create this "shadow prison" of sorts, she was less worried about the logistics of it and more worried about ever being seen outside these walls again.
Shannon walked over to this door and opened it up to allow the guard to come into the room. The guard brought in with him a large cart and tray with a gorgeous meal on it. That was another good thing about being trapped in here, the food wasn't terrible. The guard rolled the trolley in and bowed before Shannon.
"You wouldn't mind if I enjoyed your fair company, would you?" the guard asked. Shannon scoffed. How brazen of this guard to be so forward with her.
"I don't think I would," she replied, turning her head away.
"Are you sure?" the guard asked. "After all..."
The guard reached into his pocket and brought out a curious notepad and pen. He began to write something down as he continued, "I bet you would want to take a nice walk outside of the complex for a while."
He held up the notepad, and Shannon looked over at it. "It's me, Andrew," was what was scrawled out onto the pad. Shannon's eyes widened, and she began to slyly walk over to the door while saying, "Perhaps a walk would be nice after dinner."
The door now shut, Shannon turned back as Andrew took off some of the guard costume. "What are you doing in here?!" she whispered to him.
"And a good evening to you too," he replied. "Maybe you'd like to talk about some stuff over the course of a nice meal? Courtesy of his majestic lord Montalban."
Shannon looked down at the tray of food and noted a particularly delicious array. Andrew didn't hesitate to go after the tray of food himself and started eating away. Shannon took a seat on the bed and began to eat some food herself.
"Doesn't this stuff taste all the better knowing we're eating it at Montalban's expense?" Andrew smiled cheerfully, a slice of cheese in hand. Shannon smiled at his enthusiasm and nibbled on a slice of bread.
"So what's the word?" she asked.
"Well, by my count, Creighton and Izzy should have met up with Matt, hopefully without running into too many problems of their own," Andrew answered, munching down on a slice of meat. "At the very least, we should be able to move forward with our part of the plan. It took me some digging around, but I've got a good ship to take us where we need to go, wherever that would be."
"Anyone to crew it?"
"Hopefully with some simple clue suggestions, I'll be able to direct Yugi and his friends to help out."
Shannon raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you want to involve them with this? After all-"
"They're the ones who insisted on helping out if we needed it," Andrew replied. "Besides, it's not exactly a two-man operation to sail a ship."
Shannon couldn't argue with that. "And what about breaking me out of here?"
"Simple as pie!" Andrew replied, reaching for the cloth and picking up a fork. "Oh hey, pie!"
He lifted up the cloth covering the trolley, revealing a large empty space underneath. Shannon inspected it for a moment as Andrew smiled and munched on some of the pie.
"Your chariot awaits!"
The Poseidon sailed for nearly a month before it finally reached its destination, a small river opening leading inland. The entire time the ship kept nearer the shallow waters, avoiding the open ocean as much as possible. As Matt had suspected, the ship that had delivered Creighton and Izzy to the island attempted to keep its distance and follow them, but once they ended up inside the swamp river, the ship stayed far away from them. As the river narrowed and the shallows began to grind up on the bottom, Matt had them anchor the ship and pull out a couple of lifeboats to sail further inland. A small group stayed behind to keep an eye on the ship and to watch out for any of Montalban's forces that might try and pursue them further. It was about a two-hour long journey inland before they reached their final destination, according to Matt, which meant the ship would need to be watched in the meantime for at least five hours.
Creighton and Izzy ended up boarding one of the lifeboats along with Willaby and a couple of others, and soon enough the boats sailed up the river. The waters remained calm in the midst of the tropical lagoon, giving rise to a large number of mosquitoes around the crew. Humorously, one of the few modern luxuries Matt took onboard was a large supply of bug repellent for just such an occasion, thus keeping the crew unbitten.
Creighton waved away at another pack of mosquitoes that wanted to feast upon him, the repellent being the one thing preventing them from doing so. He looked over at Willaby and griped, "Can't believe we're going through all this trouble to visit her."
"If Matt's having to visit her, he's in deeper trouble than we thought," Willaby remarked. "Then again, if anyone can help him out, it would be her."
"Right, take care of the Montalban problem," Creighton snorted, waving away another mosquito.
"I don't think he's as worried about Montalban, honestly," Willaby replied. "I think he's got something much worse on his mind at the moment."
"What exactly would Matt be afraid of out in the open sea?" Izzy asked.
"If I had to take a guess, the same thing that's been dogging him since the Tournament," Willaby replied. "I don't know much about it myself, but I do know Matt's dealings extend far beyond that of just Montalban."
"Then who or what does it have to do with?" Creighton interjected.
"Like I said, I don't know much," Willaby replied, "but I have a hunch that it's got something to do with him."
"Him?" Izzy asked.
"A man...or maybe not even a man anymore, more of a demon," Willaby continued. "Heard he goes by the name of Adolf Rommel."
A chill ran through the group. "A-Adolf Rommel? You mean like, that Adolf Rommel?" Creighton stammered.
"You know of any other entity goes by the name?" Willaby asked sarcastically. "Of all the things in this world to be afraid of, Adolf Rommel is the only one Matt fears most."
"What does Adolf Rommel have to do with Matt's unease?" Izzy asked.
"Well, if you believe such things..." Willaby looked over at the other crew members who looked back at him with a certain fear in their eyes. Willaby turned back to Creighton and Izzy and continued, "There's a behemoth that works under Rommel's command, a beast so terrifying that man and beast alike tremble at the very mention of it: the Dark Leviathan."
All at once, the mosquitoes dissipated, and a howl of pain could be heard far off in the rainforest. The crew all felt a shiver down their spines as a chilled breeze swept across the river briefly for but an instant. Creighton and Izzy looked at each other as all of these things occurred.
"They say it's of a gargantuan size, able to swallow an entire fleet of ships in its open mouth," Willaby continued. "It has limbs as thick as oak trees and strong enough to crush metal like it was paper. Its heads - two of em - are able to breathe a fire so hot that even the toughest diamonds melt away. And the tendrils..."
Willaby shivered for a moment at the mention of this, giving Creighton and Izzy a great deal of concern. "Just imagine," Willaby continued, "the last thing you see in this world is thousands of tentacles ripping your ship apart and being devoured by a cavernous maw within reeks the stench of a thousand corpses."
At that moment, Creighton leaned over the side of the ship and vomited again. A couple of other crew members also puked over the sides at the thought of this image and of Creighton puking himself. Willaby turned to look around at everyone and shook his head.
"If you believe such things," he murmured, and he turned back to Izzy and Creighton, who wiped his mouth with his sleeve as he came up again.
"So Matt's a bit desperate..." Izzy said.
"Aye, desperate enough to even visit...her..." Willaby responded.
"We're here!"
The call from Matt came up as the boats arrived at a small shack built on stilts over the water. Various candles were lit up around the shack, providing light in the darkening evening light. The boats drifted over to and were tied up at the makeshift dock by the shack, their occupants taking care to dismount them with care. Matt was the first up the small staircase leading up to the shack's porch, followed closely by Willaby, Creighton, Izzy, and a couple of other crew members; the remaining number stayed behind to watch the boats.
"Don't worry, this shouldn't take too long," Matt reassured, opening the doorway into the shack.
On the inside was a large number of strange and unusual objects. Jars filled with all kinds of things were scattered about the room, candles hung from the ceiling, and dust was scattered about the rotting wood. A large round wooden table occupied a part of the shack, surrounded by wooden chairs and covered with old pieces of parchment with a variety of unusual symbols written on them.
"Same creepy stuff as ever," Creighton groaned aloud.
"Ahhh, me child of destiny!"
A quick look towards the voice, and everyone saw as a rather buxom women squeezed Matt in a bear hug. She was much larger than a normal person would be, her head nearly reaching the top of the small cabin, her limbs almost as thick around as Matt's head.
"Auntie, please!" Matt called out in a muffled voice beneath the girth of her arms, his head covered up by them in the midst of the hug. The woman laughed before finally releasing Matt from her grasp. Matt brushed himself off and readjusted himself before addressing the crew there.
"For those of you unacquainted, this is Auntie Margareta," Matt introduced. "Resident mystic of the swamp, and expert in the occult."
"Tis me pleasure," Margareta greeted, curtsying in her dress to the others. Then she turned her attention back onto Matt and asked, "I take it you've come to consult on me wisdom once again, no?"
"You can read me like a book," Matt replied.
"Come come, then," Margareta invited, waving her hand, "sit around the table, and I'll bring you all some stew."
She disappeared into a doorway not far from the table as the group sat around the table. Izzy took an interest in the parchment, noting that the symbols were of various runes from a variety of cultures. It was impressive to see so much knowledge gathered around a single table. She took up to reading while Creighton waited eagerly for the stew Margareta had promised.
She came back through the doorway a few minutes later carrying a large steaming pot and was chanting a quick phrase, causing a few wooden bowls to float in from behind her and set themselves up with some decorative wooden spoons in front of each one there. She then changed her chant, and the stew floated out of the pot and poured itself into each of the bowls evenly, giving each person there an equal portion of the stew. A large loaf of bread then floated out from the doorway and placed itself in front of each person.
"Well go on, eat up," Margareta insisted after she was finished. It didn't take much more prompting, though Creighton stared down at his stew with a grimace. The stew sat there motionless until a small round object popped above the surface, turning to stare up at him.
"Better eat up, hunny," Margareta fretted, helping Creighton scoop up the eyeball and jam it into his mouth. "Best not be working hard on an empty stomach!"
Creighton forcefully swallowed it down, his nausea settling in as he registered the object he had swallowed. The effects of it soon took off, and he found himself breathing out a frosty cool breath.
"Powerful stuff as always," Creighton remarked, astonished with what had happened so quickly.
"Eye of newt is hard to come by," Margareta replied with a wag of her finger, "but it's very useful ingredient to make everything come together."
Margareta then turned to Matt and continued, "So last I heard, you were tracking down the Crimson Rose in hopes of finding its secret."
"Did and done with that," Matt remarked, smiling as he laid down his compass medallion down on the table. Margareta's eyes grew wide as she inspected the medallion with a girlish appeal.
"You did and done," she repeated as she handed the medallion back to Matt. "So then you are not here to find something then?"
"Actually, that's pretty much why we're here," Matt admitted, bringing out a small piece of parchment and laying it in front of her. Margareta looked down at the parchment and saw the drawing of the key. Matt continued, "I'm looking for this key and the chest into which it goes."
Margareta looked up at him with some concern. "And the compass medallion cannot lead you to it?" she asked.
"It's been...troublesome," Matt answered.
Margareta then smiled knowingly. "Your mind be preoccupied by other engagements, no?"
Matt didn't say much. At that moment, Izzy asked, "So you know what the key goes to?"
Margareta chuckled. "I know where it goes," she replied. "I know Matt Zero's desires, they are far easier to read than his future ever was. He be seeking that chest which holds the prize of Rommel."
Everyone looked over at Matt at that moment, who noted all of this and ate a small bit of his loaf of bread.
"So Rommel put something in that chest?" Izzy pressed.
Margareta smiled and asked, "Do you not know of the legend of the man known as Adolf Rommel?"
Most everyone shook their heads at the question. Margareta looked over at Matt and shook her head.
"You should have mentioned the tale to them at least," she scolded disapprovingly. Matt swallowed the bread in his throat and answered back, "I was going to get around to it at some point."
Margareta looked back at the others and began to tell the tale:
"Long ago in the land of the Tigris and Euphrates, there lived a mighty king who ruled over its citizens with a code of justice. This code was the law of the land, and those who disobeyed found themselves under its wrath. Against the king formed a secret alliance known as the Trinity amongst the citizens headed by three strong families, who sought to free the people of the king's code, for they did not see freedom within the king's justice. They tapped into the powers of the elements themselves, and together they created six powerful monsters known as the Spirit Dragons to aid in their battle against those who would oppose their true freedom. But they did not recognize who their greatest enemy would be.
"The man who would become Adolf Rommel stood against them, seeking to eliminate the newly-formed alliance and take control of the Spirit Dragons. He believed that the Trinity's goals were aimed to upset the natural order, to let he who would be deigned by the gods themselves to lead the people forward, to fight back against the will of the gods themselves was blasphemous. And so, for many years, the Trinity fought time and time again against Rommel, and many a time Rommel has come close to taking their power away. But he never could grasp the power of the Spirit Dragons, and the Trinity always slipped away into the shadows.
"Now Rommel was a persistent man. He would not give up his pursuit even after the kingdom crumbled away into nothingness. His search led him down the darkest paths that granted him his immortality and power. He initiated his own alliance to cut across the Trinity's path, waging war on the Trinity and leading the charge with the power of his immortal ship, the Gladius Divinum."
"The divine sword," Izzy murmured.
"An appropriate name for a man who believed in divine rule, wouldn't you say?" Margareta remarked before continuing with her story:
"Over time, Rommel's struggles against the Trinity continued on into a losing battle, a war of attrition he waged and was destined to lose. In his hatred and desperation, he sacrificed all of his allies to create a new power, an evil wicked monstrosity that would become his greatest weapon, the Dark Leviathan. With its power, Rommel sought to destroy the Trinity once and for all, and for a moment in time, it looked to be that he would succeed. But the Spirit Dragons formed together to create an even greater power themselves, and with that power came the Dark Leviathan's ultimate defeat, and it nearly led to the death of Rommel.
"The Trinity, seeing the extent of their newfound power, now feared the return of Rommel, for should the Spirit Dragons fall into the hands of evil, they would surely bring about the destruction of the entire world. So they settled on dividing the Spirit Dragons, separating them from one another and hiding them away from the rest of the world, all in the hopes that should Rommel ever return to this world, he would not be able to destroy them, or worse control them. As for Rommel himself, though, his power returned him to the realm of the living, but the price he had paid for his life and his beast now cast him aside from the world. Now Rommel can only sail the seas, unable to set foot on land, cursed by the very darkness he hoped would defeat his enemies. And as the eons have passed, both sides have gotten stronger, and Rommel's hatred continues to grow and fester. Who knows what horrifying power he has?"
"You said that Rommel had a chest though," Izzy inquired. "What about the chest?"
"As part of the ritual for immortality, Rommel needed to make a sacrifice," Margareta explained. "To do so, he carved out his own heart and sealed it inside the chest, hiding it away from the rest of the world in a location no one yet knows, all to protect himself as he pursues his endless crusade against the Trinity."
"Wait, you mean he actually put his heart in a chest?!" Creighton yelped.
"He can't do that, can he?" Willaby asked.
"Rommel is willing to do anything he must to achieve his goals," Margareta replied with a smile. "If he could find a way to make his vengeance immortal, you'd best believe he would sacrifice himself, body and soul, to make sure the Trinity never receives a good night's sleep forever."
"So then the chest contains the heart of Rommel which keeps him alive to hunt down the Trinity..."
Izzy stood up and looked over at Matt. "You knew about this and didn't tell us?" she asked.
Matt rocked his head from side to side. "Call it more of a hunch than a know," he replied. "But yes, the heart of Rommel is the goal. And chances are strong that Rommel himself likely has the key, so now all that's left to do is climb aboard the Gladius Divinum, grab the key, and go on to save everyone involved!"
"What, you want to just walk up to Rommel and ask for the key?!" Creighton asked back.
"I didn't say it'd be easy," Matt replied morbidly.
"Let me see your hand."
Matt halted his progress towards the exit and slowly turned back to Margareta, whose hand was outstretched as she made her stern request. Reluctantly Matt held out his hand to her, all bandaged up as though he had suffered a severe injury. Margareta gently unwrapped the bandages from his hand, revealing the four overlapping crosses with the skull in the center.
"The Mark of Rommel!" Willaby yelped, immediately going into a goofy routine exercise involving rubbing himself, spinning around, spitting, biting his thumbs, hopping around on one foot, and all manner of bizarre actions. The others were fairly confused with this odd display. Creighton even tried mimicking it for a bit before falling over onto the ground.
"Just to let you know, my eyesight's as good as ever," Matt threw out.
Margareta turned and went back into her kitchen, rummaging around loudly for something. The others looked over curiously to the kitchen entrance, listening in on Margareta's search until finally she walked back through the doorway.
"As I said, Rommel is cursed to abandon making his way onto land," Margareta explained as she carried a large jar over to Matt. "With that in mind, you must carry land with you."
Matt gave the jar a peculiar skeptical look as he reached out for it. Everyone looked at the jar, its contents clear to them through its glass sides.
"...dirt," he noted almost stupidly. "...this is a jar of dirt."
"Yes?"
"And the jar of dirt is supposed to help?"
"If you don't want it, give it back."
"No!"
"Then it will help."
"And what of the Gladius Divinum?" Izzy asked.
Margareta smiled as she brought out a small number of ritualistic items to utilize, consisting of various magical oddities and commonly found pieces of miscellaneous junk. She conjured up a world map as well, presumably to help out with her directions.
"Where to find a ship that's lost, or lose a ship that once was found," Margareta chanted as she circled the map, "find the area where ships go lost, that the ship you seek might be found."
She sprawled out the various items onto the map, and they circled themselves about a small area of the map. The others looked down at the map to see what area was now in the midst of so many strange peculiarities.
"The Bermuda Triangle," Matt pointed down amidst the circling oddities.
"But that's on the other side of the world from us!" Creighton remarked. "How are we supposed to get all the way from here to there?"
Margareta then picked up a small pouch from nearby and poured some of the contents onto her hand, revealing it to be ashes.
"A touch of destiny," she smiled, blowing the ashes over the group, blinding them and obscuring the entirety of the hut from their vision.
When they opened their eyes, they were all back on Matt's ship, but looking around they noticed the sun was rising up above them.
"We couldn't be..."
Izzy brought out a small phone out and began rapidly punching the keys. She soon discovered the answer to her unasked question, the question on everyone's minds.
"We're just off the coast of Florida," she confirmed. "We've traveled to the other side of the world."
AUTHOR'S NOTES
It should really come as no surprise that Matt Zero and his brother, Andrew, are the storyline versions of my brother and I. Now most people would call that sort of thing an "author insert", but as I write the story, I find they've evolved a bit into what I think of as "alternate versions" of the two of us. Their personalities are based mostly on their real-life counterparts, as are their physical descriptions, but then there are those moments in which they do things that go beyond what my brother and I have done. We've never sailed anything as large as the Poseidon, and we've never broken people out of jail. In a way, the characters do things that are more than just "author inserts", and I'd like to think that that gives them more power than what an "author insert" would have.
Now Matt's friends - Creighton, Izzy, and Shannon - are all in some form or another based around people who are or were at some point my brother's friends. Now seeing as I never really met either Izzy or Shannon (Creighton I actually knew from the same place my brother knew him from), I've had to take some liberties based on how I remember my brother reenacted them in our play throughs, as well as what he wanted their deck themes to be based around. Creighton's original theme was "Offensive War," Izzy's was "Series," and Shannon's was "Community." Of these themes, I think Shannon's has changed the most while Izzy's has remained static, but I think you'll understand when you see their decks for real.
Next time: the mysterious Adolf Rommel
