This Road to Nowhere

by Equimorto

First published

Nothing interesting happens

Sometimes, life surprises us, and an unforeseen event comes to bring chaos in the carefully constructed routine of our existence, a cataclysm that wipes away the monotony and sets us on a path of danger, adventure and excitement, a road to far away lands where we'll see incredible landscapes and meet equally incredible characters, a journey that takes us from our simple ordinary role and brings us to become heroes, the only ones capable of stopping ancient evils that threaten to destroy the world as we know it.

Most of the time that doesn't happen.

Prologue: The Blackboard

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A piece of chalk traced a series of complex lines on the smooth black surface, then was set down at the base of the blackboard. The pages of a large open book on the table turned until they reached one showing a drawing that looked extremely similar to that on the blackboard. A smaller book floated open by its side, with a slightly different set of symbols on its pages. The piece of chalk floated back and a couple of other lines were added to the drawing. The chalk and the smaller book were both set down again and a small crystal was lifted from the table.

The crystal began to glow, its dodecahedral shape emitting bright flashes of light from each one of its faces. The light intensified and the rays started to bend, beginning to curve until they entered back into the prism from one of its other faces. A high pitched note came from the crystal, permeating the library with its sound. Abruptly, one of the rays of light snapped out, the sound becoming distorted. The flow of magic to the crystal was cut and the light dissipated, along with the sound, then the crystal was brought back down on the table.

Another large book flew from the shelves to land near the others, opening to reveal another series of symbols and circles. Numerous others were taken from the bookcases, until the table had no space left for them, at which point they began to float open in midair. Each showed a different set of drawings, all slightly different from the others but still very clearly similar, some almost identical to others except for small details. A pencil and a sheet of paper were taken out of a drawer and a series of notes were written down.

The blackboard was cleaned, and the piece of chalk was hastily lifted once more. It collided with the surface a little too fast and snapped in two, half of it falling on the ground along with some dust. The floor was cleaned and the remaining piece of chalk once again began to move along the black surface. Intricate lines and shapes were traced by the floating chalk, complex arrangements of circles, dots and other shapes appearing as white marks over the dark background, accompanied by inscriptions and runes in alphabets used for languages long forgotten by most.

The crystal floated up again, again starting to glow and emanate a sound. It became brighter and brighter, and once more the light emitted began to bend and sway, converging and twisting on itself as it created a series of small tentacle-like structures that travelled between the various faces of the polyhedric surface. The sound became louder and louder, until suddenly it turned from an harmonious note into an ear-piercing creak that lasted for a few seconds before the crystal burst into pieces.

Every book was violently shut and left to fall to the ground, and the library's large doors were loudly slammed.

Mirror Mirror

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A dress landed on a pile of others on the bed, and a new one floated out of the wardrobe. The warm light of the day's last hours entered through the window, small clouds of dust floating in the air illuminated by the sun's rays. Another dress was put on the pile, its red fabric contrasting with the deep blue of the one below. The multiple hues of reds, greens, yellows, blues and purples of the various dresses on the sky blue covers of the bed gave off the impression of a rainbow, the white pillows looking like clouds. Another dress was taken out, then after a few seconds all the others were put back inside the wardrobe, the door closing with a click as the last dress was placed on the bed.

A drawer was opened, revealing a series of hats of various shapes, colours and sizes. One by one they floated near the dress, where they were momentarily placed atop its black and white fabric, then either returned to the drawer or floated to the mirror. At that point some others were sent back to the drawer, while a few were placed on the bed. After a while, when every hat had been inspected, the few that had been selected all floated together in front of the mirror, and eventually a small orange one was chosen and brought back to the bed, while all the others returned to the drawer before it closed again.

From the bedside table a small rectangular box was lifted and levitated to the mirror, the mother-of-pearl finishes shining in the sunlight as it floated from its position. The ornate little box opened in mid-air, revealing its contents. A small brush floated out, gathering a small amount of foundation from one of the compartments. After its contents had been applied it was washed in a small water-filled bowl on a nearby desk and dried with a towel at the side of the bowl, then put back inside the box. Other brushes and other tools floated out, and a series of other cosmetics was applied. Eyeliner and purple lipstick were the last things to come out and go back in once applied, then the box was closed and put back on the table.

A comb and a brush floated from the desk to the mirror, and after having gone through a long series of complicated movements they were finally returned back to their starting position. The water was lifted from the bowl, then passed through a light cornflower blue semi-transparent floating disk of energy where the residual traces of foreign matter remained trapped. The water was put back inside the bowl and the refuse was put inside a small trash can, the lid lifting to allow its passage and then descending back.

The dress and the hat were levitated off of the bed and worn, the blinds on the window were closed, the curtains were drawn, the room's door was closed and locked from outside.

Out in the Fields

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The tree shook and apples fell from its branches into a series of baskets on the ground. The Sun still wasn't particularly high in the sky, and a fresh, gentle breeze ran through the trees and over the grass. Some tufts here and there were suddenly flattened, then a loud thud resonated all around the orchard. The tree shook again and more apples fell. A few seconds of almost complete silence, as a few specks of dust and dirt were lifted from the ground, most of them falling back to it while a few, the lighter ones, were caught by the wind and flew away. Then the tree shook one final time, and the last of its apples fell down to join their siblings below them.

The baskets began to move across the ground, leaving shallow but still noticeable indents in the dry soil and occasionally running over some of the patches of grass in their path. They stopped beneath the tree right next to the one they'd been under before. A few more seconds passed, then the baskets moved again. Smaller movements this time, and confined to the area underneath the tree, occasionally going back and forth around a certain spot, until finally their motions ceased and they remained still, the apples in them occasionally gleaming as some light filtered through the leaves above and shone down on them.

The tree the baskets were now underneath still had branches full of apples, unlike those in the direction they had come from, but not unlike those in the direction they had moved towards, which outnumbered those without apples left on them. Another loud, dry thud echoed through the trees, coming from the tree's bark. This tree, too, shook, just like the previous one had, and its apples, too, fell from its branches, like the previous one's had. Like the previous tree, thought, not all apples fell, and like the previous times, another thud sounded, the tree shook once more, more apples fell, then once more, and the last ones too reached the baskets. And then the tree was barren of apples, not a speck of red among its green leaves.

The baskets were full. They moved, leaving deeper indents in the ground, but rather than moving towards the next tree their trajectory curved, and they headed for the path between the rows of trees, scattering some dust as they did. Having covered a small distance, they stopped, closer to the row of trees on the other side. Then, one by one, the baskets were lifted into the air, and moved on top of a cart silently and unmovingly waiting in the shade of the trees. The first basket touched the surface of the cart, and then moved towards the back, until it couldn't move further as it encountered other baskets. The second too, and the third as well.

A set of empty baskets waited under the tree next to the last one, already prepared. Another loud and dry thud sounded.