Garrace's+Quest

//__PART ONE: PAST__//
 * __GARRACE: "WHO AM I TRULY?"__**

__CHAPTER 1: PRAYERS__ Garrace was about two-hundred-forty. He was getting older every second, and with age, he became less aware of himself. He had self-doubt, and could not carry on with his role as king. He's forgetting what he's learned. Unable to take in the daily stress, he prays to his god, Cernunnos. 'Cernunnos,' he prayed. 'None of myself can piece the puzzle of my curiosity. Lord of the Ground, o, give to me the truth of myself; Who am I truly, o Cernunnos?' The room was silent. Every leaf could be heard falling. The room was dead.

He tried again. "Cernunnos!" The doors slammed. Garrace sat frozen.

"The more you yell, the less likely I am to answer." said a voice in his head. A cold, monotone voice that reminded Garrace of the wind. Cold and monotone, yet soft and welcoming. "So, what do you ask of me?" "Cernunnos, tell me this one thing; Who am I, truly? I've lost all knowledge of myself."

The voice sighed. 'That is not of my knowledge to answer,' said the voice, sadly. 'For knowledge of one's self is to be a discovery, not a handout to thyself.'

'Then, Great Cernunnos,' replied Garrace. 'Show me the steps to find myself. Give me clues or hints on where to go or how to do this.' 'That is not of my knowledge to give you either,' said Cernunnos. 'For ye must search for the steps yourself, not to be handed out to ye.'

The voice vanished. Garrace is frustrated, but knew how to controll himself.

He then prayed in the night, asking the Others to help him. First he went to the god of the Sun, Solas.

'God of the Sun, have ye the answer to my question? Have ye my true self?'

'I cannot say,' said Solas, god of the Sun. 'For this would be an in-honourable thing of me to do." "Could you not light my way?"

"Go to the the goddess of knowledge, Eolais" said Solas, as if he hadn't heard him. "For she might be of use to help you.' "W-" "Ah, no argument."

The voice vanished. Garrace, then frustrated, prayed to Eolais. 'Eolais of Knowledge and Wisdom, I ask of your guidance to find myself.' 'About what, in yourself,' said Eolais. 'do you wish to seek?'

'All there is discover. Things I've forgotten, things that have changed, and things I have yet to know.'

'If ye wish to know, you must first meditate for three days. Write down what you've learned.'

'And then?'

'When you are finished, you'll be told.'

"By whom?"

"That's for you to find out."

__CHAPTER 2: HISTORY__

Garrace never liked meditations. He thought they take too long, he'll pass out, whatever. And, since meditating is a form of magick, you can guess the pain he had. For three days, Garrace meditated; without food, water, or breaks. These three days were to remember his past. This is a page in his journal:

//__-'Third Season, 48th day: Dusk.'__// //__'Upon these last three days, I've discovered my creators.__// //__For this discovery, I've discovered new pride and honour in me.__// //__Upon these last three days, I've discovered my past.__// //__For this discovery, I can make up for my wrongs.'__//

Garrace was tired, and in pain. His head hurt, his body ached, his stomach was turning, and anything you can think of. However, he still pulled off enough to pray. "Eolais, one of Knowing, I have sat and thought these past three days, but all I've found is my past.'

'So now onto the present, you must venture. Go in order of time.' 'Then to where must I venture for my present?'

'To the Anatoli, ye must go. There, you will find the Great Library, and Madam Cho.' "The Great Library? On the mountain?" No response.

"And how d-"

"However you must." She spoke out.

"How to do I get over to the East?"

"You'e the king. Think."

Garrace went to Port MacArmaou, where his Royal Navy worked.

'Crew of my Royal Navy, ready me a ship for the East. Work as quickly as the winds will guide you.'

'But my Lord, a ship to the Anatoli will take many months or many years to build.'

'Then a boat, you shall build me, no matter how long. It need not be large or comfy, but one to sail across to the Anatoli. Just for there and back again.' 'As you wish, my Lord.' Garrace waited a fortnight, and no news on the ship. 'Men!' He shouted out. 'I remember commanding a ship for my quest. So why have you not a boat for me?'

'Because, my Lord,' said a man in blue. 'You left the second you ordered us. You needn't to have left us, for ships have been built to suit ye.' "Wait, what?" Garrace stared, confused. "When I left, you said that a ship would take years to build."

"Eh?" Now everyone was confused. "My Lord, we've had ships built since you became king."

"But, the other day, you said there were none."

Garrace was scared now. "Well, anyway, just get me a damn ship." 'As ye wish.'

__CHAPTER 3: MADAM CHO__ Garrace sailed across the sea to the Eastern Hemisphere, or the Anatoli as he calls it. He moved through the roads of Ringence, up the mountains of Ringence, and through the rivers, the valleys, and the plains. Finally, he came to Xandi-Lat. The mountain soared up for what looked like years to get to. The farther up it went, the colder it got. And the colder, the whiter. As Garrace walked in, he was met by another man. He was tall, bald, wrinkly, wore glasses, had narrow eyes, and a load of experience with him. You could see it in his eyes. He wore an orange robe with yellow lining, sandals, and a necklace of a strange symbol. It's difficult to describe, but it basically meant 'Know all, be all.' The man came up to him with a pleasant smile, however Garrace couldn't tell if it were forced or not.

'Greetings, traveller.' said the man, reaching his arm out to shake his hand. 'What brings you here? From where are you? And what is your name?'

'I,' Garrace started with caution. 'King of Comeras, Garrace Beleaker, journey here from the Thiar //(West)// to find who I am truly.'

'But you've stated yourself who you are.' he said in confusion.

'But only in a physical form,' Garrace replies. 'For I know not of my present form or future.

'But know you of your past?'

'Correct,' he sighed. 'But my past does not matter of my present shapes or future.' 'But have you not learned?' asked the man. 'Your past may not dictate your present or future forms, though it pieces more of your future or present forms. Take what you've learned from the past, and use to your present and future advantage. Remember, not to know of what happened before your birth is to be forever a child.' 'But how? I've learned only of my families and my history.'

'Then use it to your advantage.'

'But how? What good does my heritage do me?'

The man sighed, but understandingly. 'Time moves in swerves, curls, twists, twirls, and many shapes. Time will tell you, but you must know how He says it.' The man picks up a pack of climbing tools, and handed it to Garrace.

'What's this for?' 'What do you think?' the man said, raising an eyebrow.

'...Oh! Oh, sorry. I was lost for a moment.' Garrace took the pack, opened it, and got himself ready. 'Thank you sir. And...what's your name?'

'Time will tell.' the man said softly. Then, he walked away slowly.

'Well then, time to cli-...oh dear God, that's high.' Garrace came to a halt. Garrace found himself face to face with a slight woman with snow-white hair and sparkling teal eyes. "I am Madame Cho," the lady said. "Librarian of the Great Library. What is your name, True Seeker?"

Garrace stared a moment or two, lost in thought. Then, he spoke, shaking his head. 'I, king of Comeras, Garrace Beleaker, come to the Library to seek knowledge of myself. I have lost my awareness, lost my pride, though I've rebuilt it, and I've lost all sense of the world.' 'Fascinating.' she said in interest. 'And how did you rebuild your pride?'

'Three days I sat in my home, Vani-Tat,' Garrace sighed loudly. 'And searched for myself. Three days of not meals, nor water, nor rest. I came to ask of you a favour.' "The purpose of the lamasery and the Great Library is to aid True Seekers in their quest." Cho said. "But be wary," she warned. "For all knowledge comes with a price." 'I can pay.'

Madame Cho quirked an eyebrow at Garrace. "Really? And what will you offer me, young king?"

'I can aid you in your troubles.'

"What troubles would those be?" Cho asked, amused.

'To keep your crops grown.'

"I have monks who provide me with that service."

"I'll guard your collection." "I have a militia for that purpose, as well as my own not inconsiderable defenses." "I'll manage trade with you." Garrace said, with an irritated feeling. Cho paused, considering the offer. "What do you have to trade?" 'Gold and silver of the purest.'

"Pfft," Cho waved a hand dismissively. "I have enough gold and silver. I need no more." 'Skins of the finest.'

"I have herds of yaks. And the mountain gives me enough warmth, anyway."

'Have you everything a man can offer?' Garrace asked. 'I do,' she replied. 'However, if you were to do me a service, I could perhaps help you in your quest.' 'And what kind of service do you speak of?'

'At the northernmost tip of Anarchintia are the ruins of the First City. It is, as it sounds, the first city ever established in Tetravier. For many years this city flourished, but it came to an end, as all things do. Somewhere in those remnants, you will find a set of scrolls called the Cassandrian Codex. I have a copy of this in the Great Library, of course, but I want to compare that copy to the original, for I fear there may have been more than a few mistranslations. Also in the remains of the First City you may find three or four small silvery orbs, which look metallic but are strangely malleable to the touch. Collect the scrolls and the orbs and bring them to me. And then, we shall see if I can provide you with any answers to your questions.'

'Ena polis.' Garrace whispered.

"Yes, as I said, the First City."

'But that's in Anarchintia. How do you expect m-'

"I'm sure you are a very resourceful young man," Cho remarked. "You'll think of a way, if it is important to you. Plus you may find other things of interest in the ruins."

'As you wish, my lady.' Garrace then bowed to her.

"You may call me Madame Cho," she said quietly.

'Ahilia apologies, Madam.'

'And Garrace," she said as he turned to leave.

'Aye?' "...Good luck."

__CHAPTER 4: PLANTAGENET DYNASTY__ Garrace had sailed for twenty days on the Sea of Stars. His food was low, and he's falling to sleep. //Why to Ena Polis?// he thought. //Why somewhere that's, like, ten quadrillion miles out at sea?// He saw a dark figure rise from the Gorwel //(Comerish for 'horizon')//.

"What is that?" The figure grew. The figure started becoming more clear. It started to add detail: trees, rocks, and smaller moving figures. "Ena Polis?!?" he said joyfully. "Oh, efho leibh, Lord Cernunnos! Thank you!"

...then the wind came.

"Wait, no. Not-Ah! No! Come on...damn, stupid wind." he shouted. "Wait...that-is-not....oh God, no." The Sea of Stars was no longer its lovely blue. It mixed to purple, then red, then purple, then black. The wind took Garrace into the bottom of the ocean. A whirlpool formed, sucking him down and down. He was drowning. The pressure of the dense water was too much for him. He was coughing blood. Red and green blood spewed out from his ears, mouth, and nose. Time was stopping. There was no way to escape this.

"AH!" Garrace woke up, panting. "Pou eimai? WHERE A-"

"Silence." said a warm, feminine voice. "You're safe."

Garrace stared at the woman. "Pos se lene?" he asked.

"I'm Yesenia Crwgero, and you?" "...Garrace Beleaker."

"Not...//the// Beleaker...?" "Aye." Garrace said with an eyebrow. "*gasp*!" Yesenia bowed. "Dear God, I never thought in any of my days-"

"You know me?" he said, hastily. "Ruler of my homeland? How couldn't I?"

Garrace studied her, head to foot. //Right clothing,// he thought. //Right accent, right skin tone. Maybe.//

"Tell me, from what part are you?"

"Seshga Pevoli, Eirinn, Ai-Lyn."

Garrace winced. "Eirinn?"

"Yes." she finally rised. "My parents were Seamous and Constantina Crwgero."

"What was your mum's maiden?" "Nefvre."

Garrace froze. //But, the Nefvre's are desceased. Or...// "There were some survivors."

"Really?" Garrace was in shock. He was sure that his hometown citizens killed them off when they raided Comeras. Flashbacks came. He could never handle these memories so well. One came of his parents; one of his beloved one, Beave Mada.

"Those memories sting me too." Yesenia frowned. "I'm guessing ye knew her?"

"Ochi, ochi, ochi." he said quickly. "I'm just surprised."

"Well, skata-oh, sorry-kaka happens. So, vad gor du har?"

//She even speaks it? Amazing...// "My Lo-"

"Yes?" he interupted.

"What brings you here?"

"Oh, right, right, right. Um, I'm endeavouring to discover the Cassandrian Co-"

"AH!" She covered Garrace's mouth. "Don't say that here."

"Ti?"

"You shouldn't ever mention those around here."

"Pam?" he said in doubt. "People are listening." she whispered. "Some //people// are watching us."

"People such as?" he replied doubtfully.

"Well, the tribes of Balian and Sertos for one."

"And?" "The chief of the Plantagent tribe." Garrace paused in thought for a moment. //Plantagenet?// "You know them?" "I've heard stories." Garrace wasn't thrilled. The Plantagenet's were a vicious tribe. The chief was, at the time, Niall Giannis Olafsson IV. Niall Giannis Olafsson IV was, at first, the king of the Olaffsson tribe, as you can tell. He was exiled from the tribe for un-honourable acts of larceny, murder, arson, and a tonne of other things. He was aggrivated, and decided to start a new tribe, the Plantagenet's. Plantagenet is an ancient word for 'deserters' or 'rivalries.' This tribe started not even a decade ago. Niall was forty-eight.

"Where is Niall?" Garrace demanded "The ruler?" Yesenia said in a startled way. "Y-you wish to see...him?"

"Would you rather disboey your lord?"

"No!" she shouted. "No, no, no. I'll, um, get you some stuff to g-, uh, get you to him."

"Efho leibh."

"You're welcome." Yesenia grabbed a horse, a carraige, and a few boxes of supplies. She threw the boxes in the carraige, strapped the horse to the carraige, and helped Garrace up. "Well, here you are. The horse's name is Angerdd. It means 'passion'." she patted his back. "Good luck. And just call if you need me."

"But how wi-" "I'll know." Garrace rode for two days, and finally, he came to a camp with paintings on the sides of tents. The paint was made of blood, and showed stories of how they've conquered other tribes. It even showed why they use the blood of their enemies to write these stories.

"Halt!" said a...man? "Nodwch eich enw!"

"Eh, sorry, I don't u-"

"Dim siarad! ENW! NAWR!"

"Back down, Anous!" said a man dressed in a viking-type clothing. "And you, state your name." he demanded.

"I'm Garrace Beleaker, king of Comeras." The man stared. "And you?"

"I-"

"Stille! Daoine balbh! Nodwch eich enw! NAWR!" "No, you can shut up! Skata kefali!" The man stares again. "My apologies. My name is Niall, Niall Giannis Olafsson IV."

"Ah, so you're the one of the Plantagenet's?"

"I am, I am, yes sirrey bob."

Garrace notices something unusual about him: he doesn't seem serious enough to be Niall. In every story he's heard, Niall kills every man that comes near the tribe. But this man seems...off his mind?

"S-" "And looksatchu," he interupts. "Y-oh, hehehehe, I said 'atchu.' Hehehehehe, gozenteit. Wait, that sounds funny! Hehehehe!

Garrace stared cautiously. "Sir, I d-"

"And l-y-y-you look like a moose." he interupted. "Amoose. Amos. Anus. BUTHOLY-OLY-OLE! Heheha!"

"Uh-"

"Come!" Niall demanded. "Let us be m-m-m-merry and drink and sing and eat and drink and eat and all the stuff of goody-goodness-sakes and stuff."

"Um, okay. If you so wish." he said very quickly, avoiding interuption. Garrace has a hard time with alcoholics, for his father, Pharlain, was one himself.

Niall brings Garrace to a giant hall, filled with men dressed in furs with bronze swords and quivers. The hall smelled of damp wood, beer, lion droppings, and fire.

"Th-this is my hall, Grebbace."

"Er, Garrace." Garrace corrected.

"Right, r-right. Garrace Bleaker."

"Beleaker." Garrace corrected again. "ATTENTION!" Garrace jumped. //Don't yell.// he thought. "People of the Plantagenet's, we have a visitor."

The people stared. Garrace could hear them in the background saying things such as: //Is that// cloth//? Where is he from?// etc… One man cursed out at him, drunkenly of course.

"And who are //you// to walk in, uninvited? Skata kefali! You think we like cows like you wa-"

Garrace just finally slapped him. "I, sir, am king of Comeras; Garrace B-" Everyone gasped. Swords came flying out, bows were drawn. //What the Hell?// "My men, relax," said Niall. "For he means us no h-harm. …or //do// you?"

"No, of course not! Why'd you think that?"

"Well, you did come with no warning. What are you here for?" "The Cassandrian Codex. And some orbs." Everyone stared. They hadn't talked of the Cassandrian Codex in over twenty years. Speaking of it brought righteous Hell to the tribe. Once, back when Niall's grandfather, Eirik Vladimir Olafsson, was ruler of the Olafsson's, he mentioned this Codex, and the tribe lost a battle towards the Freaslach clan. They were burned to the ground by them and their allies, the Fuirbeis. After that, mention of the Codex was forbidden.

"You didn't..." said a man in the back. "Who the Hell do you think you are?" another shouted.

The next thing he knew, Garrace was in a fight with the Plantagenet's. This fight went on for over six hours. Then, next thing they knew, they were in Ena Polis. However, Garrace isn't the best reader. Signs don't help.

"So..." said Niall. "Do you like it?"

"What?"

"The first of them all, of course. The oldest one still in Tetravier." Garrace looked confused. He'd been so busy fighting the Plantagenet's that he'd forgotten his own quest. He looks around, oblivious.

"How do you mean the first, the oldest?"

Niall grins. "You need...//it//...don't you?"

"THE CO-"

"Shut up, you twyllo! You know you can't say it around here, you fool!"

"Why can't I?" said Garrace. "It's not my tribe that burns."

"But this place effects all."

The fighting pauses. People stare at Niall as if he had six eyes. "How do ye mean?" Garrace snarls.

"Back before this tribe was still of the Olafsson's," he started. "A witch from the Fuirbeis cursed the C-ahem-//it//. No one knows where in town it is or why she did this." Niall pauses, looking at the ground. "But what we do know is that whenever someone mentions its name, they, so it says, 'drown in dread and die with nothing'." Garrace turns around. "What about finding it? Anything to that?"

"We don't know," said another man. "But how do you expect to find it anyway?" "I have my ways." he whispered, then he starts running.

"Hey!"

Garrace starts to boulders from the ground. //Nothing.// Then he goes into the buildings, the old dusty huts with pots hanging on the walls. //Damn.// He tries for the other huts. //Agh!// Something jabs his stomach, but it's not a blade nor arrow. In fact, it sort of tickles him.

"What in Hell?" He pauses. "The Muirear?"

"Niall," he startled. "Where are ye?"

"What makes ye th-think I'd reply to that?" Niall laughs. "After all, quests should be ch-challenging, sh-should they not?" "You bastar-ah!" An arrow gets him in the leg. "Dias...d-damn...sh-" //Plop.//

Garrace is on the floor, passed out.

"Send him to the cell!" Niall yells. And the story is just starting.

__CHAPTER 5: ESCAPE__ Garrace wakes up, still stinging from the arrow. He looks around, seeing nothing but skins covering wooden poles. He can hear voices in the back.

"...Kommer han..." Someone whispers. "...jag har aldrig...fhail deanta air..."

Garrace hasn't heard this language before. //Something in a tribal language?// he thought. He move toward the skins. When he lifted it up, there were seven men in front of the cell. One of them looked back, and Garrace jerked aside. He peeked through again. This time, they just spoke English.

"...and I haven't been there in a while...Did he have a brother?...It's fine to me..." "...and what about him?" Niall whispers.

"Garrace?" says another.

"Aye."

Garrace froze, but could barely sit because of the arrow. He heard a few other words.

"Time...stuck back...complicated..."

Garrace thought a moment. //Is there a hole in this cell? The walls maybe? Hey, there...what about...ugh! Come on.// Soon, he could hear the full conversation. "It'll take about ten ships, but we can pull it." Some older man said.

"And you expect to get ten ships where?" Niall said softly. "I have people around. Don't worry, it'll be fine."

"God, I hope you've studied well. I haven't had much luck in the past." Niall said, nervously. "So, when do you plan to get there?" Another asked.

"By the Transition days." "Wait," Niall interrupts. "Transition is only about a week from now, not even. How do you sup-"

"I have my ways." the older man said in pride.

"Then Comeras will be named the nation of Korufi Terra."

//Come on.// Garrace thought. //I'm the king, and I don't agree that we're the "High Land."// (Smash) //Skata!// Garrace broke a vase in the cell. "Check the cell." Niall jumped.

//DAMN!// he thought. //What now?!?// He paused in thought. //Wait...is that...? HA! YES! Efho leibh, Cernunnos!// "That's Artemis, to you." a voice snapped. //Sorry.// Garrace finds a hole in the ground. But, by the time he finds it, the guards are in already. //Hades ochi!// he thought, basically saying "Hell no!" The ground started to shake.

"What the deuce?" said a guard.

"Ye felt that?" the other asked.

"DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT!" Niall snapped. "Just get to him!"

Everyone fell to the ground. Garrace was attempting an earthquake. He could do it, just not for long. Pain can come with magick such as that. Just as much as, maybe, a migraine, a few muscles getting pulled, and a huge amount of fatigue. Yeah, no problem.

"Dammit." he whispered in pain.

He got away…barely. He was into the hole, which lead to a long tunnel. In the tunnel, he found a sword. Not a great one of steel, but one of bronze. //It works for now.// He carries it with him, and tries to walk his way through this tunnel. Barely any light is coming in through the tunnel. Every now and then, he'll come across a torch. But as he comes toward one, it burns out. //What the deuce?// he thought, with whatever power he could use to think. The pain was still sharp, and didn't go away until he came to a fork in the tunnel.

"Oh, God…really?" Then a moan came. This moan reminded him of a whale. Loud, piercing, and sad. He went closer to it. //AAAAUUUUGGGH!// "Hallo? Pos se lene?" The voice became less rapid. "State your name! Do you speak English?" No response. He tried every language he knew. First Comerish: "Pos se lene?" Then Irlandi: "Po dos e?" Next, Oualian: "Fadur duit?"

The creature grunted.

"Fadur duit?" he said more softly. "Cade tru matolen neis, vente brron?" He asked: "Why are you in here, strange one?"

"…deis." It started.

"Si?"

"…deis…cogi…depsh…tils ha dente fet, illyago, tos pos tatdo…"

"That's all you know? Just a man…nothing else?"

"Si."

"Do you speak English?"

"Ligo bati."

"Well, use what you know. I'm not entirely fluent in Oualian."

"Man…stick me in here…Evil…name…no know…"

"What'd he look like?"

"…branco…deathly looking…de posh tep…" A loud silence brewed in the tunnels. The only noises were mice squeaking. Then the ground was shaking.

"Set yamis human?" Garrace asked with fear.

"Ter…me is…reptilio.

"Basilisk?" "Si."

//Damn.//

Garrace started running down the left tunnel. The basilisk chased after him, drooling and hissing loudly. Garrace sees a light shine through the top of the tunnel.

Then, he sees a ladder. //​Oh, efho leibh, Cer-...Ar-...Guys!// He's back up in Ena Polis, and the Plantagenet's are running right passed him. He sneaks out from behind them, and looks around the ruins. //Orbs, scrolls, orbs, scrolls, ouch, scrolls, orbs, scrolls, orbs.// Then, he spots an altar. //Scrolls?// He gets closer and closer. Something in a strange language catches his eyes. //The Codex?...THE CODEX!!! Haha! Opa!// He grabs the scrolls, and tucks them in his coat pocket.

__CHAPTER 6: HUNGER__

Garrace now has the scrolls. When he gets into a small boat, he remembers the orbs. //Skata!// He starts to run around the ruins. //Efho leibh, Cernunnos. They left!// He jumps over fallen over columns, runs through dusty buildings, and a bunch of other things. Then he sees a flash. //What the deuce?// He gets closer, and comes toward a standing column. He looks up. //Oh, awesome. Orbs!// He grabs two orbs, then runs back to his boat. And now, he's back at sea. Garrace is five days out at sea when he realises something. //Crap, I haven't eaten!// He searches in his pocket. All he finds is a few crumbs of bread. He licks up what he has. //Lord Cernunnos, send me somewhere where I won't die of hunger.// "Have you a map?" Cernunnos asked. "Ochi." Garrace said. "I've never been to the Anatoli before."

"Okay, but have you one of Tetravier?"

"Ochi." Garrace sighs. "Are you sure?"

"Nye." Garrace responds. "Check again."

Garrace reaches in his pocket, and feels a rolled up piece of paper. //Show off. I knew I had one.// "Sure you did." Cernunnos grins. "Anyway, do you know where we are?"

"I have an idea," said Garrace. "But my mind is full of mistakes. Have you any idea?" "Yeah, we're right around here." Cernunnos directs Garrace's eyes toward an island in the centre of the sea. It belongs to no nation. It's called Dir Neb; No Man's Land. "If you head West of here, you'll spot a little island. It has tonnes of vegetation. More than Demokrepu and Menhk combined."

"Wonderfull," Garrace said. "And how long to get there?"

"About an hour. That's not //too// bad, is it?"

"No." Garrace pauses a moment. "I hope."

About an hour later, he land's on Dir Neb. Still in pain, though dying down now, he jumps out of the boat. The ground on the beach is similar to the ground on Ai-Lyn's beaches: rocky, jagged, and painfull. //Well, what now?// He sails around the island, hoping for soft ground. Garrace comes to a path covered in sand. //Let's try it.// He gets up onto the sand, and nearly sinks into the ground. //Ah, skata. Bystry-Peska!// (Quicksand.) There's just enough energy in him to fish himself out.

"So, Lord Cernunnos, how do I do this?"

"I am not at liberty to say." "Shtep veil mocho niki och!"

"I'm sorry, but if I told you, it would only make your journey harder."

Garrace stood in doubt. "How so? Wouldn't it simplify it?"

"Ah," Cernunnos replies. "Reverse psychology. Isn't it fun?" Garrace just ignored him, and he sailed around again. He didn't find anything of use to him. So, he just started climbing. //​Ow. Ow. Ouch. Ah! AH, SKATA!// Finally, he climbs to the soft grass above the rocks. //HaHA! Apples!// He jumps up, grabs an apple, and starts to chow down. Then there's a coconut tree, from where he drinks. Next, there's a pool filled with fish, and he starts munching on that. //Och, thank ye, Lord.// "My pleasure… Alright, come on. You have the scrolls, right?"

"Yep."

"Let's go."

__CHAPTER 7: RETURN__ Now in his boat, and now satisfied, he set off for Xandi-Lat. The waters were calm, warm, and silent. Then a cloud showed up. Waves grew larger every second. Then another cloud showed. Then another. Garrace felt cold; inside and out. Winds from the South were sharp, blowing in blades and glass. Garrace's boat was being splashed North. //Is this good or bad?// he thought. //For one, the wind is blowing me towards the North. On the other hand, this boat is really light.// As he got closer and closer to the continent where Xandi-Lat sits, the winds were harsher and starting becoming randomised. They started breezing left and right; south and north.

"Oh, God, no." he whispered to himself. "Not now, come on! Lord Cernunnos, who blows these winds?"

"Vetra." Cernunnos replied. "Vetra of the Disi."

"The West?" Garrace said softly. "But it's the Anatoli."

"He's been having family problems, lately. His brother, Vatten, has stolen his Vivlio apo Schathaigh."

"Book of Shadows?" Garrace asked.

"Aye." Cernunnos replied. "The book was passed down over five generations of the pantheon. His father, Fos, inherited it from his grandfather Tosaigh, who got from his father Hoden."

"Why does he want it?"

"There's a spell which has power to send the North, West, and Southern hemispheres."

"What about the Anatoli?"

"Cho protects the East from all that's evil." "Ah."

The winds suddenly stopped. Garrace is puzzled by this sudden pause. All of a sudden, he's on the continent of Xandi-Lat. //That was easy.// He jumps off the boat, grabs the Codex, and starts walking. The pain from the earthquake is gone now, so the hike was easier. But not easy. There were still rocks and ledges to avoid, but he could make it.

Finally, he saw Xandi-Lat. The man that greeted him before was still there. "Oh, hello again!" the man shouted. "And how was your journey?"

"Eh," Garrace replied, tiredly. "It was long." "Ah, yes. As most are." The man grabbed a pack of climbing things. "Well, here ye go." "Thank you," Garrace said. "Um...could ye help me?"

"Of course."

Garrace is now climbing up the mountain. Again. When he gets to the top, he sees Madam Cho reading an encyclopædia on something. He comes in, goes over to Cho, and hands the scrolls to her. "After about three to four months, I've finally obtained the Codex." Garrace sighed. "...Oh, and I could only find two orbs. I hope that's alright?"

Cho held out her hands. "Let me see," she said. She scrutinized the Codex, rolling and unrolling the scrolls. "Hmph. These are a copy, not the original. They are of no use to me." She then examined the orbs. Holding one in her hands she said, "Varde!" Nothing happened. She tried with the other orb. Again, no change. She tossed them back to Garrace. "These are not the Polyform Orbs. I'm sorry, but these also are worthless to me."

"GRUBA SKATA JUTESCH! SAHZI STOIYL!" Garrace basically said: "I hate this game. Rage quit." "You can quit, if you like," Cho replied mildly. "You were the one who wanted knowledge. All knowledge comes with a price."

"Not to be rude, ma'am," Garrace said. "But I won't give up, just go elsewhere."

"That is wise," she replied. "Remember, this is a quest, King of Comeras. Did you really think it would be easy? You could have had an easy life, staying in Comeras, ruling your people. But you chose to come here. You must embrace the challenge of the journey. True knowledge is found //on// the quest, not at the end of it."

PART II: PRESENT AND FUTURE __CHAPTER 1: DIGN AND THE PENTASTEDS__

"I shall remember that." Garrace said. "Well then, I guess I bid you goodbye. Perhaps we'll meet again?" "Perhaps," Cho replied. "Who knows what the future holds?"

"The future does!" Garrace said, jokingly.

Garrace has returned to Port MacArmaou. His people are very joyfull to see him back. "My Lord!" said Hugh, one of his servents. "It's a pleasure to see your return! How was your trip? What have you found out?"

"Ugh," Garrace started. "It turns out my journey wasn't worth taking." "And why not?" "Well," he said, as he adjusted himself in a chair. "Let's just say that some things weren't worth finding." "What did you find?"

"Nothing you're thinking of." He leans back in his chair and sighs loudly. "Ugh, it's good to be home. So, what's happened during my leave?"

"A conflict." Hugh said silently.

"Eh?" Garrace said with a look of despair.

"Yes," Hugh drops his head. "The satraps of Bo Darse and Doitavi have gone into civil war with each other."

"Over what?" "Something having to do with a town in Anarchintia."

"...It wouldn't happen to be..."

"Sir?" "Which town?"

"An area rather close to Ena Polis. Um, I believe it's called...ah...Macirnog." Garrace stared. //That's not...n-no. No, it can't. No, tell me you're lying.// "Sir?" Hugh snapped his fingers. "Are you alright?" "Uh," Garrace tried to shake it from his head. "Y-yes, I think. Doukas! One glass of wine, please."

"Yes, Lord." Doukas responded. "Right away."

Garrace had thoughts race through his head. //I couldn't go out there. It's my home! How can// this //happen?// Doukas comes back with the wine. "Thank you, Doukas." Doukas didn't reply, just jerked his head. "Are you hungry sir?" asked Hugh. Garrace just looed at him and bows his head. "What's on the menu?" "Well, what would you like?" "Whatever you have. I'm just stahvin' like Mahvin'."

"Hehe, very good, sire. I'll return with venison." "Yes. Yes, thank you, Hugh."

Garrace ate for a while, and discussed the situations of Bo Darse and Doitavi. Some of the things being told weren't surprising, and some didn't make him too happy.

"And what of Veck? Have they any influence?" Garrace asked. "None that we know of," Hugh responded. "But we can suspect them. Remember, they're greatly known for their mafias." "Aye," said Garrace. "But it's not too good a thing to suspect someone by stereotypes." "Of course, My Lord." Hugh replied. "Though we can't ignore them either."

"Right. So, any other areas of interest?"

The people paused for a moment. It was dead silent; you could only hear the chewing of venison coming from Garrace. "Ditas?" asked another.

"But they're not on the same isle." Hugh responded. "Cagus?" the man replied. "We've had conflicts with the Irlandi and Oualia before, have we not?" "I suppose." Hugh said.

"Alright," Garrace said. "Astra Vi?" "Not likely," said Doukas. "They're more of an intellectual people than violent. After all, they are from the Metaxas." Everybody giggled a bit. //(The Metaxas tribe never really went to battle. They argued, but not battle.)// "Well, aren't you nice?" "I try." he said jokingly. "But the reason why I say it is because they might be more bloodthirsty than we think. They might be disguising it with the intellectual side of them."

"He has a point," Garrace added. "After all, look at Chobaich in Anarchintia. They're good hiders." Everyone nodded in agreement.

"Ve Nala?" Hugh asked.

Everyone stared at him with the stare of Exi Mati (Six Eyes).

"What? I don't have six eyes!" Hugh said in frustration. "No one ever talks about the Pentasteds." Doukas said.

"Not in public." Garrace added. "Eh?" "I've gone over it quite a bit with Brothaigh." "Then...perhaps...they?" "It's possible," Garrace said while thinking over it. "…Neachdainn! Get me a boat." "You're not leaving already?" Hugh asked desperately. "You've just returned."

"I have to do what I have to do." Garrace sighed. "As you wish, My Lord." replied Neachdainn.

"And Neachdainn." "Yes, Sire?"

"Extra venison."

__CHAPTER 2: SEARCHING IN VE NALA__ "Here you go, My Lord." said Neachdainn.

"Well done, Neachdainn." Garrace replied. "Venison?"

"In the boxes." "Excellent. Well then, I guess I'll see you sometime in the future."

"Again." said Neachdainn. "Hehe. Yes, again." Garrace sighed sarcastically. "Well then, b-bye."

"Farewell." said Neachdainn.

Ve Nala was just about half a mile away. Garrace doesn't like to go to these islands; they're very 'dark' as he puts it. They have practically no life. On occasion, you'll find someone walking through; a tourist maybe; and that's all you get. No tribe of Comeras ever set foot on these islands. Garrace looks around in discomfort.

"Hello?"

No response. Just the whisper of winds, the dead leaves falling. Not a soul to be heard. "Hello?!"

Then, a voice yells out to him. Sort of.

"…eh…Eh…EH!…"

"Who are you?" "…G…G-Garr…Beleh…" Garrace pulls his sword out and slowly enters a cave. In there, he finds an old man, fifty maybe, and kneels down slowly.

"How'd you get here?" Garrace asked.

"…w…War…"

"Which war?"

"This one."

Garrace stares for a moment. "The war just began. How can you be this bad?"

"…t-time…portal…" "But, time portals are only in…in…" Garrace thought about how he looked. "Are you…"

"…y-you…"

Garrace stared again. "How old are you?"

The man dies before he answers, which gives Garrace his future, or an idea: he dies at an old age, and after/during war.

"Great." Garrace whispered to himself. "What now?" Now, he thought of his present. //What am I? Who am I? WHEN am I?// //How do I find out?// Garrace walked out of the cave, though something's different. The place seemed more...alive?

"What the Hell?" Garrace whispered. "Where am I?" "Oi!" a voice called. "Who are you? State your business." "//Where// is this?" Garrace replied.

"Um...Ve Nala? Who are you?" "Garrace Beleaker, king of Comeras."

A man came in front of him slowly. He was hunched over, had black hair, olive skin (like people from the Mediterranean), and a dark scar across his face. "You're my king?" he said. "Yes," Garrace replied cautiously. "What's your name?"

"Sgian," the man replied. "Sgian Ui hEiderisceoil."

"Nice to meet ye. What part of the island is this?" Sgian looked at him strangely. "Are you serious?" "Yes, quite." "Ionnaou. Eastern Ionnaou." //Ionnaou. Ionnaou means "demon ground."// "Oh," Garrace said in shock. "That's...nice."

"You said you're a Beleaker? Correct?"

"Yes." Garrace said. "Why do you ask?" "Clan Ui hEiderisceoil and the Beleaker's come from the same progenitor, sort of. We're related."

Garrace just looked at him strangely. "By how much?"

"Hard to say. Cousins, maybe. Most likely second cousins." "Have you a tree to prove?" Sgian pulled out a paper. As he unrolled it, there was a chart with names.

"Here is Terzh II." Sgian noted. "Here's you...and me."

Garrace raised a brow. "You realise it's only //just// related?"

"Ah," Sgian replied. "That's what they want to think." "I'm wasting my time here. I'll be leaving now."

"Wait." Sgian said. "I can help you find out."

Garrace stopped a moment. He turned around with a puzzled look. "...How..."

"As I said." "But that has nothing to do w-"

"Family knows family, don't they?" Sgian interupted.

Garrace ran up to him, and held him by the neck up to a tree. "What do you know?"

Sgian giggles quietly. "A lot...If you wish to know, I'd suggest to let me down."

Garrace let him down slowly. "What do I have to do?" "To get me something." "What" "E sfaira." Sgian replied. Garrace paused. "The Orb. What for?"

"To help me find out about myself." "...Fair enough. Come with me back to Vani-Tat."

__CHAPTER 3: THROUGH THE CITY__

Sgian and Garrace went off to Vani-Tat in the boat. However, they didn't go to Vani-Tat right away. Because it was longer to sail around Ai-Lyn, they had to stop in Dhomhnaill Cuan (Dhomhnaill Harbour) in Ellenika, and ride their way to Vani-Tat by horse. "How much longer?" Sgian whined. "Ugh," Garrace sighed. "Just a little longer. A few hours." "UGH!"

Garrace turned his head over, face down. Then he looked up. "Are you hungry?"

"Yes!" Sgian said in relief. "What do you have?" "Venison. I think some wine as well." Sgian jumped in the back of the horse's carraige. There, he found boxes of meat and wine. And although he's been waiting for a decent meal for years now, he still performed a silent prayer. Garrace could only hear a few words here and there.

"...youth...blessed...Garrace..." These were some words he heard. //What about me?//

"Excuse me, Sgian."

"Mm?" Sgian already had his mouth full. Then he swallowed. "What is it?"

"Erm, nothing. Nothing. So, where are you from?"

"Originally, from Antemi Sos. And you?"

"Macirnog. Anarcintia."

Sgian gave Garrace the greyest look he'd ever seen. Like he was going to kill him.

"Have you been there?" "Once," Sgian snarled. "And it wan't pleasant." "What happened?" "Let's just say, the other day, a Fhionntaig came up to me. And he was with a Stillbhard." Garrace gave a shocked look. "Oh, fun." "Quite." Sgian stuffed his mouth again. At last, they came up to a ten-foot wall. There was a sign saying: "Croeso fut Vani-Tat. - Welcome to Vani-Tat." The sign was blood-stained, cracked, damp, and dark. The fact that they could see it at all was a miracle. "Good evening, your Highness." A guard dressed in bear skin with an iron shield, six-foot spear, and a helmet made of steel and a ram's skull stood at the gate. "Who is this with you?"

"I-" "This is a man of interest." Garrace interrupted. "He'll return with me to the caslte; no questions, Ceanmor."

"As you wish, sire." replied Ceanmor. "Oktroyte voyota!" The gate opened. With it came tonnes of dirt flying in their faces. "Welcome back, sir." said Ceanmor. "Efho leibh, soldier." Garrace replied.

They went into the city. It wasn't anything Sgian had witnessed before. There were people crowding the streets, bakers constantly pulling fresh bread from the oven. You could smell the bread from four blocks away. Sparks flew in the air from the sharpening of blades, people passed out on the streets of drunkenness, and Garrace didn't really mind. "Oh, don't worry. " said Garrace, patting Sgian on the shoulder. "You get used to it. If anything, I'm proud to see my city turn to Hell."

"Why?"

"It reminds me of Anarchintia." Sgian gave him a weird look. Then Garrace went on. "I remember my father dying. A man named Stefani Cumhaill came and slashed his throat. My mother came out, tried to pull me back...But she soon joined my dad. A sad night that was. But it's just what made me what I am today. Now don't get me wrong, I love my folks. But just in this sense, I'm glad they died. For if they hadn't, I probably wouldn't have had any of this." He bent his head back, and sighed, as if to hold his tears. "I shouldn't think of it too much, though. Thinking can cause brain tumours, can it not?" Garrace then gave a hearty laugh. Sgian gave a giggle. "Yes, it seems it does." The horse stopped in front of a giant building.

"Well, here we are. The people here call it 'Castrou apo Vani-Tat' or the Caste of Vani-Tat." "Does it have a personal name?" Sgian suggests. "Like how humans have names such as John or Jill?"

"Amlygu." Garrace responded. "It means 'Highlight.' This place has attracted many people from all over Tetravier." "Such as where?"

"You name it." Garrace said proudly. "Esperia, the URA, the Hintheria's. You name it, they've been." Sgian thought a moment. "...Xangdi-Lat?"

Garrace paused in thought. "Knowing Madam Cho, she's probably travelled here a couple thousand times. Though, that was before my time. Probably before our foundation."

"Eh?" "While the tribes were still seperate." Garrace explained. "You've heard of the Panagakis, Irlandi, etcetera; haven't you?"

"I've heard of the MacArmaou's." Sgian added.

Garrace gave the most puzzled look he'd ever given. "The MacArmaou's? Who the Hell are they?"

"I could've sworn you'd learned about them." Sgian whispered. "They're a tribe that settled upon the Pentasteds. Well, three of the five. Well, three and a half."

"And a half?"

"The Oualia's most of I'tsh Rin Kisch." He then went on about the entirity of the MacArmaou's.

"Fascinating." Garrace said. "I wonder why I haven't learned of this tribe before."

"I don't know." There was an awkward silence between them for a bit. Sgian luckily broke it. "...So the Orb?" "Right! Right, right, right. I almost forgot." Garrace said. In the back of his head, he'd hoped to.

__CHAPTER 4: UGLY TRUTH AND PRESENT__

Garrace and Sgian walked through the halls of 'Highlight.' The place was marvelous. The architecture was that of a Russian palace. The halls cold use as roads themselves. Each room had its own restroom and kitchen. And to speak of the matters, the building was filled with the scent of chicken, potatoes, and wine.

"My dearest!" a voice yelled from the halls. "You've returned."

A woman of pure-elven appearance showed in front of them. It was Queen Cassaine. She had teal skin, blue eyes, dark green hair, and golden earrings.

"Cassaine!" Garrace responded. "As usual, you're looking more and more attractive each day!" "Oh, stop it." she blushed. "You're just saying that!"

"Why would I lie?"

"Why //wouldn't// you?"

"Well, eh...hmm."

Cassaine giggled. "Anyhow, who might you be?" She turned to Sgian.

"Sgian Ui hEiderisceoil." he responded. "And you're...Cassna?" "Cassaine." she corrected. "Cassaine Rugk."

"Not Beleaker?"

"No," she sighed. "My parents insisted I keep my true surname."

"Oh, that's nice. And what's the origin of that name? Doukan?"

"Irlandish." she corrected. "Or maybe MacArmaout...I don't know."

"Anyhow," Garrace interrupted. "Shall we head to dinner?" "Oh! Of course." Cassaine said. "Just let me freshen up a bit."

"Of course," Garrace responded. "I'll be waiting." As Cassaine went up the stairs to their room, Sgian hunched over to Garrace. "Eh, what about the Orb?" Sgian whispered.

"...After dinner. Is that good?" "Sure." Sgian responded. And off they went.

The dining table was large enough to fit twenty-two people: ten on each side, one on each end. The room itself was about the size of an auditorium. The kitchen sat beside it on the northwest side. Aromas of meat and cheese ran through the castle; the sounds of sizzling venison erupted. And this was just the main dining hall. The other ones for employees of the castle mixed into the building with everything else. It was, as some call it, 'Bia Capitol' - 'Food capital.' Cassaine's always one to start conversations. "So Sgian," she went. "Where do you come from?"

"By birth or residence?" "Either." "Well, I was born in Caver, Ditas." he responded. "When I was about fourteen, we moved to Grundell, Ve Nala." "Grundell?" "In eastern Ionnaou," Sgian explained. "The town sucks."

"AH!"

"Sorry," Sgian corrected. "It's 'not the most agreeable.'" They went on a bit about their past, debated things for the future, and so on. After dinner, Garrace led Sgian to a room titled 'Chastnyy' - 'Private.' "Garrace, dear," Cassaine said. "Where are you taking him?" "Just showing him something, dear." Cassaine gave a look she doesn't give often: suspicion. "Alright...But don't take too long." "No worries." Garrace opened the door, and the creaks remind you of the gate at the cemetery. Not only that, but the rusty, old, and web-covered look of it didn't make it any better. Inside, there were piles of rusted up pieces of...stuff. Within the piles was a shining glass sphere on a pedestal. It was the orb. "Is it...?"

"Yes," Garrace interrupted. "E sfaira."

Sgian took in a deep breath, and sighed. "Finally."

"I'm not entirely sure how to work it, though." Garrace sighed. "Have you any clue?"

"Of course." Sgian said joyfully. "I know a lot about a lot."

"That's a lot good." They both giggled. "Well then, off you go."

Sgian rubs his hand over it. Then hovers them above it. Pictures showed up on the sphere, and...Garrace could see them.

"...n...No. No, that's...not right, is it?" Sgian whispered. "What?"

Sgian turned around, head down. "I don't believe that's right."

"What?!" Garrace demanded. Sgian glances over at Garrace for half a second, and turns his head toward the orb. "It says I'm the heir." "...Oi?" Garrace gave a puzzled look.

"You're not supposed to be king...I am. I was...Deavyne's son."

"You?" Garrace responded sarcastically. "You look nothing l-"

"I have my mum's looks." Sgian interrupted. "...You."

"What?"

"...You killed him, didn't you?"

"What-no! Ochi! Why would //I// kill my own king?"

Sgian squinted. "Jealousy?" "What? No. No, no, no. I'm never jealous." Then Garrace thought. //Or...am I?//

"You...syn apo ena vychta!" Let's just say he said 'You evil man.' To keep it nice.

Sgian grabbed a rusty blade, and pointed towards Garrace. Garrace went for his sword.

"Now, now, Sgian. No trouble, eh?" "Ha! Funny." Then he swung down. Garrace blocked. //*Clang*// "Sgian, it's not my fault he-ah! I didn't kill him. He died at r-ah-rest!"

"Sure! The throne would've been mine." "You were never at home! How could you claim?" "Someone could have messaged." He swung up from the side. Garrace barely blocked, and sparks flew. "They should've thought of me."

They swung a few more times. "Sgian, relax!" Garrace demanded, swinging down. "It's not worth it! Don't bother!" "Trust me," Sgian snarled. "It's worth more than you think. Cernunnos didn't make it this way!" "You're right! You ran-ugh! You ran away! You chose to decline the throne." Garrace blocked to vertical charges of Sgian's blade. "I'm sorry." "I don't take apologies." Sgian picked his blade up, and Garrace through his sword horizontally. Sgian's blood covered Garrace from the waist down. "I...I'm sorry, Sgian." Garrace whispered. "...It's your own choice." He turned his head towards the orb. "...I wonder." Garrace went over to the sphere. He put his hand above the sphere, and saw clouds clear to form an image. He saw the words 'present...same...no change.'

"W-What do you mean?" he whispered. "What hasn't changed?"

The orb spoke back to him. "You quested to find your present?"

"Aye?" "...You quested for an obvious answer."

"I don't understand." The sphere showed Garrace pictures of him yelling out to a crowd of Comerites. Then one of Garrace clashing blades with a thousand soldiers. Then one of him saluting to the flag of Comeras.

"What about it?" Garrace demanded. "You're still the same." the orb said. "You quested for an obvious answer. You're finished."

Garrace sat on an old chair. He thought to himself. //So...I'm done! I'm done!! Haha!//

"Yes, you are." said the orb. //​Wait...obvious...obvious answer. Obvious answer!// "Are you saying I traveled to Ena Polis and back, just to find out that I'm the //same?//"

"It seems so." the orb answered. Garrace felt anger inside build up. "I COULD'VE DIED IN ENA POLIS! And you tell me that it was //pointless?!?"// "I'm afraid so." "AAAAAAHHHH!" Garrace picks up the sphere, and throws it to the ground. //Smash!// The orb broke. "POR QUE VY, CERNUNNOS!?!"

"The more you build anger," Cernunnos said. "The worse your life will be." Garrace knew he couldn't argue with a god. So he breathed in deeply, and heavily exhaled. "You're right." Garrace whispered. "I'm sorry." "I forgive all apologies. But remember, anger doesn't fix all problems." he looked down. "...And neither does smashing orbs. I'll fix it this time, but watch next time." "Yes, Lord." "Garrace, dear!" Cassaine yelled. "Are you done down there?"

__THE END__