Tarayon watched the little kids play tag under the light of the full moon. Their uncomplicated game elicited whoops of joy and rippling laughter that was music to his ears.
He rested his back on his comfortable hammock and closed his eyes. That scene was nearly 30 years ago in a place that was no more but the sounds never faded.
Tears trickled down the corners of his closed eyes. He played those sounds a little longer and let them fade into a hidden vault in his mind.
Only the faint sounds of the night remained and he stayed still for a long time until someone tapped him lightly on the shoulder.
It's two of the walkers. Survivors from a lost story from 30 years ago.
"Boss, you have to listen to this," said the taller of the two.
Tarayon got up and stretched his hand to the hammock. It rolled on its own and promptly went inside his bag. He nodded to nearby clumps of dry lumber and rocks and the three went there to sit.
"What is it, Dumaniw? He signalled for the shorter walker to talk.
"The Igaaw are spreading so fast, boss. Some of our people are forced to move again. The nasty creatures are spilling out of their prison and causing havoc to this side of the world," reported Dumaniw. His voice has a distinct cadence to it.
"The synchronicity must have caused considerable thinning to some parts of our reality," Tarayon mused.
"No, boss. Some of the walkers assigned within the displaced threads are sending out garbled messages about a sinister plot to make eternal daytime. Someone or something is stirring up the Igaaws," said Samiweng, the other walker. Her voice is pleasantly rising and falling in a melodious manner.
"What are they up to, this time? Disrupting the cycle means they would be strengthening the Layus somewhere else. They won't gain anything. Maybe localized destruction but not dominion," said Tarayon, frustrated.
"That's just it, Boss. This idea did not come from the Igaaws. They are slaves to their role. This is a clear deviation from their nature," said Dumaniw.
"From which of the displaced threads is it originating?" Tarayon asked.
"The place where the red, white and blue threads intertwine; the Cradle," they said in unison.
"I should have known. Then I suppose that is why it was the two of you who came to me and not anyone else?" Tarayon said.
"That...and we also missed you. You never stopped moving," they said simply.
That caused a lump in Tarayon's throat. He simply embraced the two.
"Alright, you are the keeper of the keys to that vault. Tell the questers what they should know," he instructed.
They vanished in lingering sounds of poems and songs.
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(A few days ago.)
Norak adjusted her hood and mask before approaching the small dark man standing near the trash bins. It irritated her that this diminutive islander stood composed as her subordinates interrogated him.
The Igaaw they captured spoke of the keys to certain doorways and these vagabonds supposedly hold some information about them but try as they might, this unremarkable midget just looked at them calmly.
Norak slid the blunt part of her scythe to the small man's cheeks and the bastard just smiled at her benignly.
For a moment, she wanted to reverse the weapon and just decapitate the smug asshole.
"It's okay. My brothers and sisters will remember me," the small man said suddenly and Norak was taken aback. This weak looking man read her mind. She gritted her teeth.
"How do we open the locked gates?" She hissed.
She pushed the tip of her scythe to his forehead until it bled but he did not even so much as bat an eyelash.
"The Igaaw you hold won't be of much help," he said instead.
"I think he is right, boss. It drinks too much water and when I am close to him, I get thirsty as hell," one of her minions whispered.
She levelled a deadly gaze at him and he shrank back.
"You better let it go. Thirst calls to thirst, didn't you know that?" the small man looked at her and the son of a bitch had the gall to look concerned.
Norak felt the parchness of her throat and she swallowed.
The small man saw it and he smiled knowingly.
"The one you caught is an elemental spirit. It won't be held captive for so long. Don't make them mad. The havoc they wreak shall be damaging not just to others but to you as well. Right now, the one you have shares your thirst for more power and you share his insatiable drive to suck the world dry," the small man informed Norak.
"Then you won't answer my question?" she spoke in a deadly quiet voice.
"I gave you the answer you need, not the answer you want. Decide whether you have use for it and do as you wish," he said resolutely.
Norak has had enough riddles for one day. She swung her scythe and the small man's head rolled on the ground.
She didn't have the satisfaction she expected. The face of the dead man looked serene while all of them had a worried expression including her.
Norak howled in frustration but she caught a coughing fit.
Wheezing, she ordered the release of the Igaaw.
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"The way is not a simple two-way path. You go one way, you come out another way," said Dumaniw.
He is explaining the quest to John's party.
"This is highly irregular if you ask me but certain things have happened that prompted us to break protocol. We ask that you stop the Igaaws' plan or else we would have a tragedy bigger than you could ever imagine," Samiweng said in her sing-song manner.
Ice found her voice very musical.
"How do we get there and what should we do?" John asked.
"As to how, it is up to you. The path, as usual, is a way of thinking and not a physical road. We have to make sure that the hidden pieces of reality are not accessible by the wrong people," Dumaniw explained.
"Clever," Ora admired.
"The 'what', we can explain. You have to stop the Igaaws from releasing the dreadful dragon of gluttony and their plan to create eternal daytime. The 'how' is again up to you," Samiweng said.
"You will be met by one of the minor deities. One that would be directly affected should the Igaaws' plan come into fruition," Dumaniw added.
"Let's get to it, then. It grows late," Ash interjected.
"The path to the quest is called 'Simplicity'. You can begin by leaving behind your gears and weapons," Samiweng informed them.
"That's not simplicity, that is suicide," corrected Ash.
"We understand your concern, Lilim, but if the path were as mutable as our opinions, no one would be able to get there," Samiweng lightly admonished.
"Lilim? I am Ash," she insisted.
"We are sorry. We see you by your ancient names and we call you as such," Dumaniw said.
"Ancient? John might be ancient but I know I'm not," Ash stalked away.
"So we leave our items and weapons, and then what? Surely that is not all there is," clarified John.
They suddenly found themselves in a room so unlike the one they were in just seconds ago. Dumaniw and Samiweng are nowhere to be found.
The room is so bare.
It was just a cube. There was not even a window or furniture of any kind.
"There wasn't even a chair," Vince complained and he prepared to sit on the floor.
A chair appeared in the middle of the room to the surprise of the party.
"Table," said Zone and a table appeared beside the chair.
"More chairs," said Vince and four more chairs manifested out of thin air.
"Water," said Ice and a pitcher of water was suddenly on the table.
John and Ora looked at each other.
Before they could say anything, Vince said,
"Refrigerator. TV. Bed."
"There is no electricity, you dumb oaf," Ash sneered.
"Electricity," Vince said smugly and wires immediately crawled across the walls and ceiling.
Things began appearing at a rapid pace. Band equipment filled one corner and shoes began piling in another.
"Vince, you asshole! Stop that!" Ash shouted.
"What made you think it was me?" Vince tried to act innocent but even as he did, an expensive looking motorcycle materialized in front of them.
The ceiling was filled with bulbs of different make and color. More wires appeared and pretty soon, that room seemed so cramped and small.
"Stop it now, Vince!" John barked.
"Relax…" Vince assured the man.
"Vanish," he gestured grandly and bowed to the group.
"Vince…" Grace looked around with a worried expression.
Everyone turned every which way as the room continuously produced items one on top of the other.
Game consoles of different brands, cellphones, clothes and jewelries, guns and swords popped out of nowhere until the room was practically choking with them.
The group retreated to one side as the room threatened to bury them under their material desires.
Ice screamed as tons of gold piled up near them and started toppling over.
"Door," John said and opened the door that appeared behind them.
They stumbled out of the room.
One gold coin rolled out and Ash slapped Vince's hand as he proceeded to pick it up.
They turned away from the room that almost squeezed the life out of them.
The scenery that greeted them was majestically surreal.
They are at the foot of a tall mountain and ahead of them are tiny huts that littered the nearby clearing.
They could hear children's laughter but they could not see anyone.