Mr. Alawhishez Latimer Carswell Boyell….as you see….had an outlandish name…and….he himself was a most outlandish character who called himself Nickolas. So to save space and finger cramps I shall from here on in refer to this oddity of human nature as….NICKOLAS.
Ok….The second last time I saw Nickolas he was walking away from me into a misty night clad as always in his silver grey top hat, multi - patched blue jeans and a waist coat with tails that caught the eye like a kaleidoscope, complete with bits of mirrors and spangles.
Two weeks before that I had watched the police carry Nick off to psychiatric ward of the hospital when they found him having an argument with a telephone booth and beating the telephone box with the receiver. Since he had done no damage and there are no laws against arguing with a telephone booth the hospital had to cut him loose after 3 days at which time he returned to his quaint…East Indian decorated apartment overlooking the downtown main street aka 2nd Ave. He immediately contacted me, inviting me to attend a small dinner party with him and a couple of friends. I had been through this before. Nicks other guest were invisible….at least to me….but…he was my friend and despite his strangeness he always managed to carry on intelligent…if abstract conversations….he speaking for his invisible guests because they did not speak English. He spoke to them in Hindu…explaining what he said to me…which made our conversations long and sometimes hard to follow.
His story….well…it’s kind of a sad tale but I will only say that because of certain poorly raised young students who made unwarranted accusation because he failed them in math class he lost his whole life….career…family….and most of the man he knew as himself. Those horrible children broke his mind though it did not fall into despair until later years. He managed as I understand it to keep his mind intact while on and adventure to India where he worked as a teacher. Sometime after that he went over the edge…..a little now and then in the beginning then finally into the utter abyss of it. He was still partially intact when I met him…..enough to know he was a little south of completely sane.
The last time I saw my friend Nickolas was six months later at Kelso Park. I was on an evening stroll and their…quite unexplainably coming out of the evening mist appeared Nickolas…still clad in his top hat, kaleidoscope coat and multi-colored blue jeans.
Even as we drew nearer he seemed ghostly and when we shook hands his was cold. Interestingly he was completely within the realm of what psych’s would call normal.
He greeted me with a weak smile….handed me a brown, leather bound journal…then he removed his top hat and gave it to me folded in its accordion fashion….said goodbye and fell dead to the ground……real life dead.
I called for an ambulance and the police and waited for them to arrive. After answering a bevy of question the police cut me loose. I had hidden the journal and the top hat under my jacket. I went off with no further altercations with the police save that they had found a will among his belongings at his apartment…he had left everything to me….including a rather sizable bank account.
I read the journal…..and this in part, is what was written in it.
2
I am….at times….somewhat distanced from the world of reality. But then Why not…I am old enough to do so and wise enough to put other aspects of normal living in perspective….at least most of the time. Fortunately I spend a good deal of time locked away from the world of the NORMS…and cross the bridges into a Kingdom at the end of the world…or so my friend the author calls my divergence into this other world I exist in…a consciousness within the unconscious that only the mind’s eye can see and the ethereal body can exist. I call it Mindover…a world where whatever my thoughts fantasize that’s what the world presents to my ether-self. And for this the Norms call me wacko. So be it.
On this occasion I would like to write about an incident in Mindover that found me at the end…..destroying an evil…..but, unfortunately I was observed by the Norms Beating on a telephone in a booth while yelling and screaming…..and before you ask…no….this was not drug induced……
I suppose I should first explain Mindover. Well….simply put….every time I go there, even though the cityscape is basically the same the scenario that unfolds before me\around me and including me changes. The other constant…which I like is that…though it exists in modern times it embraces the Feudal system…King/Queen and so forth down the hierarchy ladder. And there is a liberal salting of the fantasy factor. I must say Mindover only exists because I create it. Often what goes on there is a reflection of what is happening in the Norms realm.
Now….all that said….on the visit that resulted in me beating up a telephone I was my usual character…Nick….a wizened wizard not dissimilar but not quite the same as Merlin the magician….I was/ or am….somewhat more chaotic and aggressive….and I tend to use my skills according to my needs….on this occasion I was…..well…let me begin when I arrived in Mindover some weeks before the telephone booth incident.
As per-usual I was agitated in the Norms world….quite unable to cope with the people around me and all there hypocrisies and….maybe more so….making fun of my dress…which in Mindover is more than acceptable. I walked by night along 2nd Avenue from one ring of light under the street lamps to the next humming a tune ….one of no particular consequence. After the third repetition my next step found me on Queens Coach Way, a block from Market Square.. being the centre of Mindover City. I emerged into the circle of light from a gas lamp. It is the turn of the century we address as 19th to 20th. I found myself on the door step of the Misty Ship Pub from which came the clatter and clammer of rambunctious patrons singing there sorry hearts out to the cries and squalls of a bagpiper and Welsh war drum. I was about to enter and join in the harangue when I was accosted by a man clad in the garb or livery of a footman…a Northern Meadows Manor footman to be exact. “Lord Arthur Pole Langfred III whishes an audience at Northern Meadows Kind Wizard. It is a matter of great and …..private concern with due urgency.” Said the Footman.
“I should not wish to deny such an elegant invitation.” Replied I and allowed the Footman to escort me to a gilded coach with the Northern Meadows crest upon its doors. A rising sun over emerald, green meadows and a pure white horse in gallop stride leaping from the scene framed I a circle of gold.”
3
Northern Meadows was of course north of the city and sprawled 5000 acres to the Snowy Hills on the edge of Kingdom of Mindover. Mid way and in the centre of the Meadows stood the Manor and a village naturally named Northern Meadows. Etched into the rich green were several vegetable gardens some ten acres square. Each garden had its own keeper who lived in a cottage in the centre of the garden. The road leading to the Manor was paved in red cobblestone, exquisitely maintained and as smooth as smooth can be.
I could not imagine what his Lordship would want with me, a mere wizard/magician but certainly not a Master Mage like Tharaquin Kenfold who could turn lead into gold and was the King’s most trusted advisor…who freelanced when his or her majesty were not engaging him.
I was afforded entrance to the manor via the main entrance where the butler met me and guided me to the library where Lord Arthur was impatiently awaiting my arrival, perched on the edge of his desk, sucking nervously on a pipe…a Brigham Pipe with an ivory bowl carved in the image of a dragon.
“Ah…at last you have arrived and not a minute too soon” The Earl of Northern Meadows greeted me excitedly and pointed….directing me to a comfortable looking wing backed, deeply cushion lounging chair. As soon as I was seated the butler presented me with a crystal snifter of brandy. I accepted both chair and libation graciously, pleased that no one had asked to take my top hat or wolf head walking stick….a no-no in the world of wizardry.
I sipped the brandy, drew out a tm and lit it with my zippo…..magic to these people who, starred with that…’I am impressed look….and I must say…even a Master Mage in Mindover was incapable of such tricks. The I enquired in a gentle but slightly suspicious tone, “What small service can I extend to My Lord Arthur?”
“Straight to the point. I like that. Most of your kind dilly about…wasting precious time….of which I have a limited amount in this case……You see…my daughter has been kidnapped and is being held for a ransom even Northern Meadows is hard pressed to accommodate. I want my daughter back….without paying a ransom and I believe a wizard of your expertise could do such a job.”
“And straight to the point My Lord…which I admire in any man. Who has taken Lady….Lady….”
“Lady Winifred…my youngest and sweetest daughter…who…I am sure is terrified by all this. She was abducted by the Dragon Thornfire.”
I smiled….rather…I grimaced. Thornfire was not an entity to be toyed with.
“You must think very highly of this old conjurer My Lord Arthur for you ask of me a great feat. No one, not knight or wizard or even a Master Mage has ever challenged him successfully and many have perished in the attempt.”
“I’ll be forth coming with you Nick. I approached Tharaquin Kenfold before requesting your assistance. He turned me down flat. I saw his fear bleeding out of his eyes. But I see I should have come to you first for I see no fear in your eyes.”
4
I tossed back the brandy and offered my snifter to the butler to be refilled….generously and said I to the Earl of Northern Meadows. “I fear him not because SHE is a dear friend. I have known her since she was a hatchling. I need but ask her and she will return your daughter….but….I also know that she would not comitt such a crime without good reason. Can you advise me on that subject?”
Lord Arthur Pole Langfred III lowered his eyes…then his head and replied sorrowfully. “One of my tenants stole her egg and she wants it back. Disastrously that demand cannot be met for the fool destroyed the egg. When I told Thornfire this she grew distraughtly angry and demand the death of every child under the age of 1 year to be delivered to her Grotto. There is no way in all the great verse that even I… an Earl of the crown can managed that.”
I replied with a scowl and a ferocious voice, vaulting to my feet and crossing the room so that I was toe to toe with the Earl, “I can find no blame in Thornfire. You committed the hellish act of murder. She would be within her rights to reciprocate. “Would you be willing to repay your atrocity by sacrificing your daughter or would you tenant sacrifice a child to free Lady Winifred?”
“You have obviously missed my point. We wish to make no sacrifice. Your Dragon is but a beast….” The earl began his response. I raised my hand to silence him.
“A beast she may well be…but a sentient beast with all the emotions attributed to any sentient being. She is demanding justice according to her kind. The best I can manage in your aid…and her’s is to offer up a suitable sacrifice. I would chose the culprit who stole the egg in the first place. Bring that person to me and I will resolve this matter.”
Lord Arthur shot an anxious glance at his butler who departed immediately…I thought to fetch the Egg smasher. How wrong I was.
The Earl smiled devilishly and refilled my snifter. I sensed at that moment something was gone amiss but I could not react until I was certain. He was plying me with libation loosening my mind…..I was sure that meant setting me up….I had guessed to much….There was much more to the Dragon’s egg story than he was saying.
I took the drink. It was after all expensive Brandy….of Greek origins I guessed.
I smiled back and nodded thank you masking my suspicions….apparently successfully.
It was but a few minutes before the butler return with a half dozen guardsmen in his wake. I was promptly taken prisoner and informed that I would suffice as an exchange for the Earls Daughter. How he thought this would be of service baffled me since I had explained my relationship with Thornfire. As I stood Lord Arthur said menacingly. “If she wants you back alive she will release Lady Winifred.” Then he send forward a page to relay just such a message.
“It won’t work. All you will achieve is my blood on your conscience and a battle that you will not win and probably the death of your daughter.” I warned.
“But you see Wizard…I have only alluded to a small part of my plan…..” Replied Arthur and in that moment I realized it was….It had all been a trap…not just to rid the world of another Dragon but to gain Thornfire’s legendary cache of gold and jewels a fortune exaggerated by story tellers…a point of fact I was well aware of. But I was also well aware that Lord Arthur would not believe me if I told him such.
I stood from my chair announcing my departure, took my walking stick in hand and tapped the floor three times. It actual meant nothing but Arthur assumed it did and gave me free room to depart, at least until I was out side. Then he ordered his guards to arrest and detain me. Unfortunately for them I was quicker and wiser and when they accosted me they met a very fierce blast of flame….a blue…magical explosion that sundered the guards unconscious to the ground….at which time I stole the carriage which delivered me to Northern Meadows Manor and fled at top speed.
5
No one followed me. I thought that strange and decided not to go to find Thornfire. It occurred to me that Lord Arthur wanted me to do just that. I stopped the carriage and looked inside, finding as I suspected two spies. I gave them both a charge of really negative energy that left them reeling inside the carriage…then I unhitched one the draught horses, climbed upon its back and road off. Now I could go find Thornfire and warn her of the treachery being cast her way. When I found her she was cradling an egg in her small fore-arms. “So even that was a lie….and I found Lady Winifred with Thornfire….not a captive but a kindly visitor.
A horrible understanding ripped through my mind like red hot iron being forged into a dagger of hatred. But why.
“Oh Nick my dearest friend. I am besieged by the treacheries of men. Lord Arthur has turned on me for reasons I know not. I have always protected Northern Meadows and now….well.”
“I know why.” Said Lady Winifred. “The estate has lost its financial bearings. Father believes he can save it with Thornfire’s fortune…..but…..alas….Thornefire’s fortune is not in gold and jewels nor anything that can be rendered into money.”
The only gold and jewels I have are the golden scales on my body and the jewels upon my breast…all of which I would give Lord Arthur freely if he would but ask. After all….though he has no memory of once being a great dragon sire…he is my father and Winifred and I are therefore sisters.”
“Who turned him?” I queried.
“The most foul of creatures though no-one can see past his mask. It was the King’s Master Mage Tharaquine Kenfold who…as you will discover soon has enthralled the King ad forces his majesty to do his bidding. Tharaquine is no longer a mage Nick. He is….he is a Necromancer…as evil as the Dark Lord Himself and maybe….I guess Tharaquine could be the Dark Lord wanting dominion over Mindover.”
My blood ran cold. I was beginning to understand. I felt the scream of vengeance echoing through the ethermist from the world of Norms….but how…..how could another reach into my mind and into Mindover.
The answer came to me when I looked upon Winifred and Thornfire. Somehow a black memory of my own past had crept in and took root in my world…..a memory of a lie said of me by the angry heart of youth. How could I have allowed myself to admit this horror of my past which had already destroyed my life in the Norms world, now etching a portrait of my destruction in Mindover.
My thoughts drifted back those 40 years and I saw the faces of my accuser.
Estella Clare. Young…beautiful and as evil as youth could be.
I heard her words again.
“He kept me after class and”…she wept convincingly…”And touched me.”
After I had lost everything in my life she recanted her statement admitting she had only done it because I was failing her in class. But the damage was done and all that I had lost, career, family….all that was precious to me could never be recovered…then….in time…I lost the stability of my mind. All that kept me alive was Mindover…but now….my world there was showing signs of crumbling and like before I could see no way to stop its collapse. I cried out in anguish and in answer I heard the most evil dark laughter ever conceived by a voice.
6
“Nick my friend. What has come over you?” Thornfire asked worriedly.
“Our end my dear…our end.” I answered but decided in that moment of realized defeat I would not be destroyed without a fight this time. In Mindover I am a powerful Wizard and if Mindover goes…so does its destroyer….and I knew in that moment that the dark memory had manifested itself in the form of Tharaquin Kenfold…Necromancer…Witch…and…..my how fitting…a.. hermaphrodite….a she beast so vile even the angels might have cringed if faced with this abomination….one that somehow in the darkest reaches of my mind I had created myself…..however unwittingly.
I was faced once again with a battle…only this time I was not quite alone. Thornfire was born with Mindover and would live or die in its defense and mine. I told her everything. When I finished She set the Egg in Lady Winifred’s lap and charged her with its safety. To her and myself the dragoness said….”Though we may perish Mindover will live on with this egg and as fine a Lady as any world has seen.”
Winifred smiled weakly, but said nothing but caressed the egg as gently and lovingly as if she were the mother.
“Now we must go in search of confederates for I sense we will not pass this time without battle….a battle of the minds….and of soldiers and wizards witches warlocks and all that I have created in Mindover….Tis indeed The Battle For Mindover.”
“Mindover will not perish….only this version will fade.” Said Thornfire…Then she ushered Winifred into the deepest depths of the Grotto and commanded her not to come from that place until the Egg was hatched and grown to maturity. “You will be a fine woman of great heart by then.” The Dragoness assured. As we departed the grotto I conjured before it a growth of hawthorn bushes that not only masked the adit but protected it with long, black, stinging thorns and named it Thornfire’s revenge. And in a last thought I conjured within the depths of the grotto a bowl that would be ever full with fruits and vegetables and a goblet that would never empty of water or wine…which ever Lady Winifred desired.
And so we set out to face our fate, I upon the back of Thornfire, Thornfire upon her out stretched wings.
******
Tharaquine had spread such foulness about myself and Thornfire that no man…or woman would stand with us…and the Kings soldiers….the guards and knights once my deepest friends had been swayed against me and therefore Thornfire.
Yet we did not rise to battle alone for dragons came to the aid of their own and the wild beast came to he that speak in their minds, who had always put their welfare ahead of his own, but these numbers were small, thirteen dragons and one hundred and forty four beasts formed a line against 3000 knights and soldiers.
The end…it seemed at that moment was inevitable….but at that moment I had forgotten that honour and justice were our shields and no matter what the outcome of the battle, honour and justice would prevail.
I heard the trumpets of war echo across Mindover and saw upon the turf our enemy charging toward us….and blue fire surged from my hand while red fire came gushing from the maw of dragons.
“War in my Utopia….and it seems I am the cause…..How could this be? What can I do to stop it? Nothing I think. All I can do is fight the good fight and hope this is not the end to all I have built here,” I pondered miserably.
7
It occurred to me that I was fighting one part of me with another part of me because everything in Mindover was made up of little bits and pieces of my memories, illusions and delusions. A horrlaughic sensation crowded through me and I began to chortle amidst the wretchedness of war, like the uneasy laughter some experience at a funeral…or in times of great fear.
Tharaquine was mounted upon a winged Hellhound, a breeding of his own device, yet the Master Mage/Necromancer was a conjuring of my own mind.
Of course you old fool. The war….the battle is one with yourself and your enemy is a doppleganger of the strangest kind. You can win this war simply by shedding any thoughts that may be self-defeating…and….doing something beyond what your mind would normally conceive.” Resounded in my tormented mind….and I began thrashing the air with my walking stick….and in that moment I slipped back into the normal world…existing in both places….and I was smashing on a telephone booth and in the Norm world I was doing another kind of battle….with officers of the Norm law….Insane….truly insane was the whole thing….but as I tried escaping the Norm lawkeepers I slipped again…wholly back into Mindover and did my battle with Tharaquine. I climbed upon Thornefire’s back and we sped toward the Necromancer and his Hell-beast and to fight him I did what I would otherwise never do….I went on the attack instead of taking up the defense….My Dopple-ganger was…..well….startled and veered away….not to run but to collect his wits….but I did not relent….I could not allow him to regain his confidence….I pursed him with an added sense of vigor and vengeance.
Below the battle for ground space raged and to my delight my small force was over powering the greater enemy and the knights and soldiers were falling like dominos in a line, but beasts and dragons were taking their loss, one torturous death at a time. I cheered and wept all in the same second.
And Tharaquine and I hovered but a dozen yards apart stancing for the last charge…This time one would fall……… One would die.
8
I grasped my walking stick as if it was a hero’s sword and willed my energy into blaze of blue lightning. Tharaquine readied his staff in the way of a lance. Red and gold flame flared from the shaft. Then, each with our own cries of war we advanced in full battle flight closing the gap between us so quickly it seemed we barely moved before our weapons clashed in an explosion of raw terror and a horrific crash of thunder and our beasts gnashed at each other’s throat.
So violent was our encounter that the battle below us ceased and the combatants cowered and the dragons, of which only three remain fled into the nearest grotto they could find. All of them knew at that moment the battle they fought on the ground was rendered victor-less for victory or defeat would be met aloft in the fight between the Necromancer and the Magician, Nicholas/aka/ ROLLIN ALAWISHEZ LATIMER CARSWELL BOYLELL the Norm. Whoever plunged into the earth smitten would rise to forever rule…control and arrange Mindover…one of the two sides of myself…one good, one evil. But as this thought was surging through my mind another emerged and in an instant I changed my strategy asking first….”Does this battle really need to come to a tragic end. Could it be possible that….OH YES INDEED…..it is possible.” I cried out in a great cheer of hope, laid aside my weapon and open my heart and mind in a vast vortex of hope, compassion and love.
Ok…that sounded really….really sugary and soapy but what is and when at last we charged upon each other again Tharaquine’s lance bore through me harmlessly and as our bodies met we collided in a silent burst of light that drove out the utter darkness of anger, hate and war….and in a sudden explosive dawn a new sun shone down upon Mindover.
And I fell from the sky…whole….unbroken….but as weary as ever I had known. My mind was clear when I opened my eyes and found myself in a small white room with naught but a bed and a dim light beaming from the ceiling.
I stood, clad in a white hospital gown and there within me was a great calm of mind and heart for the darkness that had stewed within my mind for 30 years was gone, vanquished.
And I laughed with joy and danced like Ebenezer on a Christmas morn for I knew that I was free and …at will…. could easily find myself into Mindover...not a king or mage or fool or surf…only a simple magician. I knew in the deepest regions of my heart and mind I would soon make that final journey to live out eternity in my Kingdom At The End Of The World.
But first……
9
MR. ROLLIN ALAWISHEZ LATIMER CARSWELL BOYLELL….probably the most eccentric human being I have ever encountered and I must say among the most likable. In fact…with an open mind there was nothing to dislike about him nor could I find a place in my mind and heart to fault him on any level.
I made certain that all the conditions of his will were met…including a sizable donation to mental health research to the tune of half his liquid assets. The other half was left to me to do as I wished.
I have often wondered if Nickolas did find his way to Mindover or if it was simply a place he conjured in his mind, but if that was true how had he managed the disappearing act into the mist or appear suddenly…out of thin air…rather mist…beating the daylights out of a phone booth.
I guess I will never know for sure.
However. Having made that statement I found at the end of Nicks final journal a kind of manual which gave explicit instructions in the art of windriding/aka/astral travelling and, if you care to believe it how to transport your physical Norm Being into whatever world you create…He said in the end, “If you tell people of this fantastic journey and insist on it being real be prepared to be looked upon as being quite mad.”
I put the journals away thinking that one day I would transcribe other tales Nick made account of, however I must first try and prove or disprove his theory of Windriding and…teleportation into the ether world or as I call the nethers…The Kingdom at the end of the world.