NaNoWriMo-vel Chapter 1

Part One - The News
Chapter One – Ready, Steady, Go

A young man walked up to large, heavy, wrought iron-gates that closed off the enormous estate from the rest of the world. There was absolutely nothing remarkable about him, from the color of his short cropped mouse-brown hair, to his not entirely round yet not entirely slender mahogany eyes. He stood straight and while he had no air of commanding authority about him, he did not give the impression of being a human doormat neither. He was, simply put, ordinary.

Would it have made any difference that he actually knew all of this? Probably not, he sighed casually, almost resigned.

He peered up at the unwelcoming gargoyles carved atop marble pillars, their menacing snarls aimed at the azure sky. He wondered had these creatures been real would they pay him any heed, or would they ignore him the way the rest of the Silarian population had for all twenty three summers of his life? Shaking his head of such depressing but nevertheless real thoughts, he reached out to tug at the string that would announce his presence. At least there were some things he could do that proved he existed.

The gargoyle to his left suddenly turned its gaze towards him and growled in a harsh voice "Who goes there?"

Taken aback, he stared, wide eyed and slack jawed at the stone beast. For all of five seconds, he remained silent, motionless, simply gawking in surprise and disbelief.

The creature canted its head and sighed, "Are you hearing impaired? Or just stupid?"

"Y-you're, you're, you're real!?" He gasps, pointing a finger at the gargoyle.

"Stupid it is, then!" The one on the right giggled in what may be considered a most feminine manner.

"And rude, apparently." The first one added, "Didn't your mother ever teach you it's impolite to point?"

"S-sorry, but I've never had the opportunity to meet a real gargoyle before." He stammered, cheeks crimsoning as he withdrew his hand to his side. "It's not like there are hundreds of your kind where I reside." He reasoned. He heard stone grinding against stone as the gargoyle to his right trembled with suppressed laughter.

"Shall we take it from the top, then?" the young man coughed, "I'm Blakeford Kings, and I have been summoned by one Sir Kairhn Edelberton."

The gargoyles faced each other as if to confirm this information before turning their attention back to Blakeford. "Who?" The female of the pair asked, stone lids blinking.

The young man sighed, hating that everyone seemed to forget he had a real name and did not always prefer to go by his ridiculous sobriquet. Which he grudgingly revealed as "I'm Blank."

Again the pair looked to the other, communicating in a level that was far beyond human understanding (or hearing for that matter) before the gates gradually swung open with a grating screech. "You will come to a fork in the road and will meet a toad, a horse and a fish. You may ask their counsel, but for the love of all that is sane whatever you do, do not listen to the fish." The one to the right warned.

As the man more commonly known as Blank stepped through the gates, the left gargoyle couldn't help but ask "Why didn't you stick to the old warning of "Beware the fish"?"

"Because I'm so sick and tired of having to listen to the cleaning woogie whenever he bitches about how all these humans never fail to leave a mess when they listen to the fish." Was the crisp response.

* * * * *

As Blakeford Kings, who will be referred to as Blank from now on, walked along the cobblestone path he couldn’t help but admire the lush scenery that was the Edelberton gardens. Growing alongside the path were shrubs shaped to resemble all manners of beasts, dragons and serpents, massive behemoths with multiple limbs and tentacle-laden avians, and an assortment of other creatures Blank managed to recognize.

Thinking about now, he felt stupid for not realizing the gargoyles that stood watch at the gates were real. He had heard enough about them that he should have seen the tell-tale signs. In fact, he had learned quite a lot about some of the less seen creatures that existed in Silar, thanks to his job that is. Blank was a transcriber of tales, while there were spells capable of capturing spoken word and pinning them down onto parchment, those were rare and hard to come by.

Not to mention costing an arm and a leg. Literally. So until some gifted wizard manages to discover an incantation that would leave the caster intact, Blank had job security. In fact, he was the best of the best as far as scribes went. Yes, he held the record of transcribing the most tales within the span of a day, but other than that, there was nothing else note worthy about him.

That was the reason why Blakeford Kings became known as Blank. Because whenever a person, be it an acquaintance, a co-worker, a friend or family member, was asked to describe him they all come up completely blank. Try as he might, Blank simply could do nothing to make himself stand out in a crowd. There was an air of typicallity (if there ever was such a word, and if there wasn’t there should be because there is nothing else that can properly describe him) that hung so heavily around him, it almost made him invisible.

He had asked others to call him Ghost or Spectre since he faded into the crowd so well. But they denied this request, declaring that either nickname did not do his inability to be noticed justice. "Besides, that would make you sound interesting." A collegue remarked, and while no malice was intended, Blank couldn't be blamed for making this collegue a former one.

With a sigh and a heavy shuffle of his feet, Blank focused on getting to the estate to meet his latest employer for whatever job he was going to be given. Eventually, the shrubs grew into a dense, overgrown forest where the sun’s bright rays could barely penetrate through the thick canopy of leaves. He wondered, nervously, whether the Edelbertons kept any wild, particularly dangerous, potentially hungry animals in these woods.

Was it his imagination or did he see movement amongst the branches? He hoped, no, prayed that it was all in his head. That did little in preventing a heavy, suffocating sense of dread from settling in the pit of his stomach. Nor did it keep him from glancing over his shoulders every now and again.

When he finally reached the fork, Blank saw that it was a pond that split the road in two. A horse stood on the left path with its neck bent down as it drank a mouthful or two. On the opposite path sat a toad, sunning itself on a smooth, multicolored rock. The fish was no where to be found.

The scribe approached the horse, thinking it to be the friendlier of the pair. He had raised his hand as a friendly gesture when the equine suddenly stood on its hind legs in alarm at the sudden movement. Naturally Blank faltered back, the second time within a day it seemed, to avoid having his sternum splintered by heavy hooves.

"What on Silar is wrong with you!?" The stallion demanded hotly, snorting in indignation at having his drink disturbed. "Sneaking up on someone like that, you were probably trying to ride me, weren't you?"

"What? No! Of course not!" Blank responded, thoroughly embarrassed.

"Why? Are you saying I'm not good enough to be ridden, huh? Is that it?" The horse flashed his teeth, his unusually sharp, blood-stained teeth.

Blank was far too panic-stricken by the sight of the darkly colored teeth to respond. What saved him from getting his jugular ripped out was the delicate, melodic voice that chimed in.

"Oh do behave, Horatio." The toad trilled. If Blank hadn't been so frightened out of his wits, he’d have found this quite novel, how often does one hear a toad trill? But as it was, the young man was too woried about keeping his internal organs the way they were meant to be. Internal.

"Why do you always side with these trespassers, Thaisa?" Horatio grunted, stamping his hoof much like a child at the beginnings of a tantrum.

The toad burbled and hopped gracefully atop Blank's head. "Because, silly pony, we are not meant to harm anyone. At least not directly." She winks in a conspiratory manner enough to mollify the irate Horatio.

Blank felt a chill shoot up his spine at the toad's words. "Um, th-the gargoyles at the gate s-said I could ask for you for h-help?" he trembled, tilting his head upwards ever so slightly so that he could talk to Thaisa face-to-face, in a manner of speaking, without causing her to fall off.

"Oh then you are an expected guest!" She declares brightly before facing the horse, "This, Horatio, is why I always side with them. The Master gets upset at us whenever we send an actual tresspasser to his demise, what would he say if he knew you had hurt someone he really wanted to see?" She did not sound smug nor condescending, if any she was genuinely concerned for Horatio's well being.

The stallion lowered his head in apology, though the fire in his eyes indicated he did not trust Blank in the least. He spoke softly, barely above a whisper to Blank’s ears "Fine, what help do you require of us?"

The scribe wondered why the equine kept his voice low, but nevertheless he asked his question. "Which of the two paths do I take?"

It was then that the calm surface of the pond began to bubble.

"Oh bother, he's coming." Both Horatio and Thaisa groaned in dismay and resignation.

A geyser erupted from the very center of the pond, and Blank braced himself for a soaking. The water splashed back down, but not a drop spilled out of the pond’s radius. "Is the water enchanted?" he found himself asking.

"These humans become more and more stupid." Horatio rolled his eyes, "Of course it is. Everything on the Master's property is enchanted."

"And I am the most magnificently enchanted one of them all!" an exuberantly sing-song voice cheers. Blank would have canted his head had Thaisa not been seated atop his crown. The voice belonged to the small, rainbow-colored goldfish that poked up at the surface.

"Come now, no need to be shy. We are here to help all visitors in need. Just ask away!" the fish giggled.

"Feste, please, the Master..." Thaisa began, but was quickly silenced when Feste's scales changed to a venomous green hue.

"The Master gave me a job, and I intend to fulfill it." the fish’s voice became a baritone, reverberating with a frequency that made the waters ripple. When his scales returned to their multi-colored selves, Feste fixed his unblinking gaze at Blank and in a falsetto asked "So you want to know which path to take to get to the Master?"

Blank swallowed and nodded.

"Don't you want to know what will happen if you take the wrong path?" His scales glittered a glorious, nearly blinding shade of gold.

"No, not really."

They turned venom green. "You sure? I mean, for all you know the wrong path simply leads you to the treasure vault."

"Y-yes, I'm sure."

They turned acidic yellow. "Oh? Not even curious if the wrong path will take you to a special haberdashery and barber shop that can make you stand out for once in your life?"

Blank looked tempted, but he remembered the gargoyle's warning and firmly answered
"No, thank you though."

If Feste had lids, his left eye would have twitched as his scales darkend to blood-red. "You know what? You're such a fucking stick-in-the-mud. Your manhood's probably so shrivelled up you might as well be a woman! Just go down the left path, you snivelling little namby-bamby wuss." And with that Feste submerged out of sight.

A few seconds of silence passed before Blank turned to Horatio and peered up at Thaisa. "So, which path should I take? Left or right?"

The stallion gestured to the right, and the toad leapt towards the same direction. Neither of them spoke, they merely phantomimed as best as they could that Blank should hurry. And hurry he did.

In the back of his mind, Blank couldn't help but wonder where did the other path lead to and what would have happened to him if he had listened to the fish. He made a note to ask his soon-to-be employer once he got the chance.