Oz cleared his throat before sitting down beside the boys, a deep sigh coming from his mouth, and his gin still by his side—which he had been continually regenerating and drinking throughout the day.
"Shall I begin;"
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I was born to a young and beautiful woman on a gloomy day ninety years ago, alongside my identical twin brother, Pez. Our mother and father were named Lynda and Joseph, and we lived peacefully in a small nameless town on the outskirts of Vlain, the capital of the former kingdom called Mibernia.
For much of my childhood, me and my brother Pez would play outside in the woods not too far from our small wooden hut that we called home, since we never went to school, and our parents couldn't mind us all day. In the forest our imagination ran wild as we pretended that foxes and wolves were hunting us.
"Come over here, I have something to show you!" I remember him telling me one day, and in my curiosity, I ran over right away and peered at what lay in his hand. "Oh my oh my!" I responded, "We must show this to mother!" My face lighting up with vibrant colors as I peered at the strange stick, with a crystal imbued in it.
I recall him clearly telling me not to tell mother or father, infact he made it very clear by saying, "We're gonna become mages, so you mustn't tell mother!" —Mages being what we used to call wizards back when we were younger.
I was suspicious at first when he told me this, "Wizards? Those are of fairytales!" I so boldly proclaimed, although I soon faltered, and found myself enamoured with the fantasies of shooting fire from a wand, and slaying dragons with my spells, and whatnot, so I decided to keep my mouth shut and never mention it to the rest of my family.
Now you're probably thinking this is where some power is gifted to us and whatnot, but no, not at all, as nothing really came of that wand and it probably would've been better used if we just sold the damned the thing, as me, my brother, my mother and my father lived in constant state of worrying about the next meal, since we were from a rather poor area.
It wasn't uncommon for my brother to wander off into the woods by himself, with his magic little wand, and then come back hours later telling tales of magic he supposedly preformed, although I always remained skeptical of it, as he refused to ever show me.
When we weren't in the forest we wandered arround the streets, the place where we saw too much, and learned too little. What you must know is our kingdom was a free one, although sometimes to its own destruction, as being a little kid wandering such a carefree land lead to some stuff we shouldn't have seen.
We saw riots from angry peasants, most of the time to do with the neighbouring kingdom, which everyone in the land feared would take over, that being the current kingdom we are in, Fantasium. Police would never take too kindly to riots though, and sometimes blood was shed. I had to see young men getting killed so meaninglessly, and even worse things happen to women, although I still rather not speak on it.
Soon enough our fantasies of being mages were trumped by the reality of the world, as we saw the worst crimes men could commit. By age twelve the two of us got a job where we would lend a helping hand to a local jewler, who was a kind and stern man called Stanley.
Stanley had a soft side to him, and taught the pair of us to read, where the two of us learned our love for books, and once again we relived our fantasies, although this time in a much more mature way.
"Look here!" Pez told me, pointing to a line of text from one such book, it being titled; 'The Land Far Away' which to sum up, was a book about a long lost continent far to the west, which the author himself says was based of a true place he had been to, and Pez, who was the usual daydreamer, found himself immersed in exploring the world to find such a place.
"It's not real you know, their only lay a continent to the east of Fantasium, one we will never see," I scowled him, although he calmy replied to me, "One day we will sail, and we will see this land."
"Our mother and our father would be woried sick and you know this!" I said back to him, although nothing I could ever say could change his mind and I knew it, what I also knew is that I would foolish follow this man to the ends of the earth, as he was my only true friend.
Later that day we went home to our little wooden cabin that we called a home, the table ready with food, and all of our beds of hay laid out in the corner, my parents sitting arround the table inviting us over.
"Did you bring home any money?" Father said sternly, his voice impolite, although he didn't mean any ill intent. "Yes, a small bag of five coins, that is our months sum combined, please take it and use it for whatever seems best!" I said back, with a smile on my face as I reached over to give it to him.
My brother abruptly interrupted my transaction, and so boldly asked, "may I take one coin for myself each month?" Pez's usual rebelliousness causing trouble as my mother looked at him with wide eyes. "What does a kid of twelve need that for? Think Pez, think, after six months, we will only have five months of wages handed in, and for what?" Shouted our father Joseph enraged.
Pez didn't say much, but instead looked to the ground in defeat, as I looked at him with reassuring eyes, and my mother tried to calm down my father by saying, "Dear, don't take note of this request, he's only a boy with a heart bigger than his head," her voice beautiful enough to calm anyone's anger. "Yes my love," he replied, taking in a deep breath and getting back to casual conversation with me.
Ever since that day, and for a long time after, he spoke in a more hushed tone, looking a little more defeated day by day. Later down the road he told me he was suffering with deep case of the melancholy, and for years he stayed like this, no longer playing with his wand, and focusing on his job instead. The once lively fantasies he spoke of faded away from everyday life, as he began to assimilate into society, almong with me.
For years we spent working with that jewler, polishing his jewels, and making small talk with ourselves, all of which being about; 'look at that fine women!' Or 'this jewel comes from the far east!' And it stayed this way, the conversations never going deeper or further than he dared to push it.
Soon enough both of us turned eighteen, and we became old enough to live independently. Our parents expected us to find wives, and settle down, and have many kids, but since we lived in such a free society, they allowed us to take our time.
Out of our nest we went, and soon enough those six coins we got a month went to us, to spend however we saw fit. The first month after we left our childhood home, we got our first bit of money, and Pez's once vacant eyes lit up again, as his hands reached out for it, a hurriedly thanks escaping his lip.
Although you may be expecting his first course of action to be buying horses and travelling through the land of wandering horsemen, this was not the case, as instead we both eagerly searched through the market, looking for something of interest or value.
"Young men, young men, do I have a treat for you!" Shouted a bearded man sitting at an empty stall, who seemed to be in his early thirties. Pez spoke first, as he so commonly did back when he was much younger. "What do you mean kind sir?" His hand resting on the table, and his eyes inspecting the man.
"I heard twins are good luck," the man muttered as he investigated both me and Pez, the only thing distinguishing us from one another being the color of clothes, mine being blue, his being a light yellow. The man looked us up once again, leaving a brief silence before he continued his conversation to himself "Black hair and dark eyes make it even more of a better suit for the job."
"Just what are you on about, let your murmurs be known!" Retorted Pez who had been listening to the quiet whispers of the man.
"Well you must first hear me out, and don't be quick to disagree," he told us, catching our attentions, "I've heard of a continent to the west, where strange men live, and treasure lies. I need two young men like you to explore the sea, then discover everything you can about the place, and finally bring back gold, and we will split the share."
I tried to decline, but Pez bluntly interrupted me, "Tell me when, and supply us. We will be going," he says eagerly, yet with command.
He then promptly handed over the money and not even a few days after that, we said our final goodbyes to our family and set down a trail to the Mibernian coast, with the same man we paid guiding us, his name being Berthold.
I would like to tell you of the adventures we had while getting to the ocean, although I fear there isn't much I can say of our journey, other than Zoe's returned to his usually self, and made great conversation with both me and Berntold.
The trail we went down was relatively safe, and took only eight weeks to travel on horseback. We said our final goodbyes to the man, and were given a map which had the directions we would be sailing. The ship we sailed was a glorious wooden ship might I add, being the size of a rather large city house, and having several comfortable rooms with months of supplies.
The first night after departing was rough, and neither of us got sleep, instead talking through the nighttime with one another, as we stood on the balcony, and stared into the waters.
After that first week, we gradually became more and more comfortable aboard that ship, The rhythm of life at sea became routine after the first week. The ship creaked softly as it cut through the waves, and the cries of distant seabirds filled the air. Mornings were greeted with the salty breeze and golden sunlight. We spent hours studying the map the man had given us, tracing our course and imagining what lay ahead.
We had plenty of food aboard, but catching fresh fish became part of our days. Pez was always better at fishing, as he would cast the line with an ease the ocean seemed to respect. I handled the cooking, turning our catches into simple but satisfying meals.
By the second week, the ship began to feel like home. We explored every corner, finding old tools and odd trinkets in forgotten storage spaces. It was as if the ship carried the memories of past journeys, giving it a life of its own.
The nights were magical. On clear evenings, the moon lit up the water in a silvery glow, and as we gazed at the horizon, we talked about what might await us. On darker nights, the stars seemed endless, keeping us company, and reminding us that we were not alone.
Then one day, a horrible storm came.
It began with a soft wind that quickly turned into a roar. The waves rose high, slamming against the ship. We worked together to secure the supplies and keep the ship steady. The storm felt alive, testing us with every crash and howl. By dawn, the storm had passed, leaving us soaked, exhausted, but alive.
The damage was bad. One sail was torn, flapping uselessly, and some supplies were gone. But the ship still floated. "That was the most alive I felt in a while," Pez said, leaning on the railing with a crooked grin, despite all of the hardship.
Over the next few days, we repaired the sail using scraps and adjusted to what we had left. The storm had shaken us, but we knew it all wasn't in vain.
The sea calmed again, though the memory of the storm stayed with us. It reminded us that this journey held dangers we couldn't predict, but that was part of the adventure. We pressed on, knowing that whatever lay ahead was worth the challenge.
And for another month we faced challange after challange, one storm coming after another, each one damaging the ship a little more, yet making Pez more eager time.
It was late one night when I finally saw the shoreline in the distance. The first thing I did was wake up Pez, and then steer the ship towards it, our grins growing wider, as we went closer and closer. And when we finally did reach the coast, we spent one last night sleeping on that ship that we grew to love, before we set off into the unknown lands.
When we woke up that morning, we realised there was a river that lay nearby our landing spot, so we naturally gathered our gear, and decided to follow it on land. On our backs we carried some basic supplies, and in our hands we held swords—in case of a worst case scenario.
About four miles into our advance, we found a small settlement which didn't seem too long abandoned, the camp looking only to be abandoned hours prior, and the tents seemed to be torn up. With that we learned that humans lay here, and that they must be nearby aswell, although we didn't know if they would be friendly or not.
It wasn't long before we heard the clatter of horses, which one minute were in the distance, and the next moment encircled us. Suddenly twenty men—all of which were mounted to horses, rushed arround us, their skin a light hue of brown. All of the men were adorned in a glorious and vibrant hat of colorful feathers, which sprawled out like a peacock, aswel as long and vibrant robes, following a similar color scheme.
I advised Pez to attack as they only hade spears, although for some reason he wouldn't listen. He abruptly dropped his sword and raised his hands, and I too followed, as it was admittedly hopeless. "We don't wish to hurt you!" He spouts to them, the tribes men nodding their heads before tying us up, and bringing them back to their lands.
As they rode us back to their land, we quickly learned that these people spoke the same laungage as us, so Pez tried to question them, "Where are you taking us? And what do you plan to do?" Although the only thing they would respond with would be, "We will take you to the shaman, that is all," their voices being demanding, yet not threatening.
Both me and my brother were confused, as we didn't know what a shaman was, and they wouldn't clarify either, leaving the two of us go imagine them to be some sort of tribal torturer.
It wasn't long before we reached their settlement, it being a large area of tents, and markets that stretched on for a few miles, housing a few thousand people in total. They paraded us through the streets, as the locals looked in shook at a someone who wasn't the same skin tone as them—and we looked back in equal shock.
The town—as you would call it—reeked a horrible smell of smoke, and soot stuck to your skin, as almost every tent had a little hole at the top for their fire, constantly shrouding the place in an inhospitable shroud, which constantly made me and Pez cough, although the locals seemed to be used to it, as they didn't seem phased.
Eventually we reached a large tent in the centre, before we were taken off of the horses, and dragged into the place, before we were forced to kneel down while tied up, so that we could face the towns shaman.
"Who are you!" I shouted at him, my voice one of fear. He looked down at me, perched upon his wooden throne in the centre of the hut—which lay in a constant state of burning, as flames enveloped him, his face being obscured by his formless mask that he wore, which seemed more like a shield on his head than a mask.
After a brief moment of thought, he stoically replied, "I am the one of magic, the one who can tell all futures." (Although looking back now, he most definitely could not do the latter.)
Both me and my brother stared at him for a second, before Pez broke the silence, "You're on fire, how do you not feel it! Are you Samh or are you Olic?" His comment being met with laughter from the shaman.
"I do not know of who you speak of, but I can assure you I'm neither. I am intrested in you though, and for that, I will allow you refuge in my hut, as I have never seen a pair of people as pale as you, aswell as being identical, you are true anomalies."
Pez motioned as if he was going to say something, yet he stayed silent, wishing not go give away his mystery, and lose the shamans intrest.
"You may now leave servants, and untie these men."