The Rapheus: Meras Lore (tentative)

Chapter One: No one of importance

The ten o’clock train rolled lazily into the station. After all it was from the Outer Field, no one of any particular importance came from there. Only farmers and retired important people. No one who was of any importance, ever left Gathdon, even holidays were taken in the city. The faces were stolid and peacefully dismal, except one. This face peeked out eagerly at an unsuspecting public. He had one or two ideas, and with more than just luck, he’d change the face of the world.

Well, He thought sitting back in his dreadfully uncomfortable seat, at least the scientific perception of the world. That should be worth something. With the slightest gleam of pride, he eyed the scrolls, notes, journals and books he had collected to finally present his thesis to the Gathdon Science League. No more fooling around with small time enterprises, Gathdon was the jugular to the scientific world. If he could get funding there, he could do anything.

People began to slowly file out of their little cabins into the aisle. The train had finally stopped and with a nervous sigh the young man adjusted his wire spectacles and smoothed out his worn tan long vest.

“Mr. Lionel Puck,” said the conductor fiddling with his pocket watch, “right on schedule, just like I said, this sleek black eagle never misses. Never!” Lionel gave him a happy smile and stood up. The conductor had taken a liking to the completely uncoordinated rather discombobulated young man and had made it his business to see to Lionel’s every need.

“You remind me of my son, Lord loves ya, Mr. Puck. He was just your age when he went off to college. Aye, pity he passed on so young. But that is the way of it. You agree, Mr. Puck?” The conductor asked looked through his own thick lenses at the absent-minded young man.

“Hm? Oh yes. Definitely.” Lionel replied trying to scoop up all his materials. Before he knew it he was desperately juggling all sorts of books and scrolls before they spilled out over his arms and onto the floor. With an exasperated sigh Lionel bent down to pick them up.

“Hold on there, let me help you.” Said the conductor. Lionel hadn’t been paying attention and they knocked heads.

“So, this is your very first trip to Gathdon. At one point in your life every man should see it,” The conductor said navigating across the crowds on the platform, his arms filled with Lionel’s scrolls.

“Well, I’m here strictly for business reasons,” Lionel said, fumbling precariously through the thick sea of unfamiliar faces, “I’ve held an important correspondence between the Head of the Gathdon Science League and myself for sometime. The city certainly sounds grand.”

The conductor nodded as he led Lionel into his office, “Aye, but writing to it and living in it are two very different things. A city’s a city, Mr. Puck, and you being a country boy all your life are a walking target for all kinds of shysters and villains. You’d do well to have contacts in the city where you can stay.”

“Well, I’ll take care of myself.” Lionel said as he reorganized his belongings into a more manageable mass.

“You’d better. If you get lost, head towards the center of town, all main roads lead to The Guild’s Square. It’s the securest part of the city.” The conductors said handing him the last scroll.

“Thank you for your time sir.” Lionel called as she left the conductor’s office. He would just step out onto the road and be off. He hailed a complementary cab and quickly sped off down the road.

The conductor stepped out of his office and watched with a disagreeable gleam in his eye. A disheveled, disgruntled looking man with tousled brown hair came and stood next to him.

“Well? He’s the one I take it?” The youngish man said gruffly.

“He may be, he might not be. It’s up to you.” The conductor said wryly holding out his hand.

“You and that pitiful sob story of yours. The Guild would could do better than have dealings with scum like you.” The man said tossing him a Guildern gold piece.

“Without scum like me who would find you your contacts?” The conductor replied testing the coin’s validity on his teeth.

“What don’t you trust me?” The man replied growling in his throat.

“You know how we scum are, can’t trust nobody. Good day, sir” The conductor replied before slowly walking away.

* * *
The long marble hall covered in a plush carpet seemed more a palace than a place of scientific discovery. A long lanky figure with upturned nose and expensive looking waistcoat turned and caught Lionel’s eye.

Mr. Shaletsone, I saw his picture in the paper. The head of the Science League right there. I must make my move now. Timing couldn’t be better! Lionel grinned and nearly sprinted towards the smooth clean cut figure, charts and all.

“Uh, Mr. Shalestone! Sir! It’s me, rather, I, Lionel Puck. I’ve kept a regular correspondence with you for the last year or so.” Lionel called seeing the figure halt and turn round, ever so reserved and high class.

“Mr. Lionel Puck, what on earth are you doing here?” Said the melodious Mr. Shalestone with a tired, impaitent sort of sigh. Lionel straightened his spectacles nervously, his throat tightening even as Mr. Shalestone walked nearer.

“Well, sir, I uh, got your last letter and seeing your interest in my work, I decided to come down and give a public presentation of my findings…sir.” Lionel’s palms went clammy and cold.

“You came all the way here to tell us all about your guesses?” Mr. Shalestone said straightening up worriedly.

“My thesis, sir, I have backed up my guesses very well and with much well established evidence. I thought I explained this to you in my letters. The Mezt Guide to Parallel Travel, The Great Mysteries of the Elements by Agrippa the founder of Mezt University, I even managed to find a copy of Psellos’ diary with a number of very impressive charts and calculations. I thought these sources were impeccable. Simply because nearly every single alchemical genius has used these books as references.” Lionel said pointed sporadically to the heavily notated, heavily dog eared tomes he carried under his arms.

“Oh! Of course! Of course! But you really simply can’t just pop up like this. Dreadful disruption of our schedule! I’m afraid you’ll have to go back until we send an absolutely clear call for your thesis presentation when the time is right.” Mr. Shalestone said beginning to walk quickly away.

“When will that be?” Lionel asked trying to keep up with him.

“When the time is perfect for you to make your thesis known.” Mr. Shalestone said nimbly dancing around the issue as best as he could.

“May I please address the consulate? It would take only five minutes of your time. I’d pay you to speak to them.” Lionel begged desperately grasping at some sort of foot hold, even if he had spent his last penny on the train ticket to Gathdon. Mr. Shalestone stopped for a moment and sighed.

“Mr. Puck, explain to me again, this theory of yours, but be brief.” Mr. Shalestone replied with a heavy roll of his eyes.

“It’s very simple sir, there are other worlds out there connected to ours by a single thread of some sort of cosmic residue from the creation of this universe. I believe that there are five elements sir.” Lionel explained getting the feelings that somehow, Mr. Shalestone had never read his letters and the replies were what he told everyone. Lionel suppressed his anger and continued, “doubtless you are familiar with Psellos’ calculations on wormholes and tears in the fabric of our universe. You see, he was able to channel these holes into ink and parchment manuscripts. The legendary Tabuletaries. With those in hand I truly think that we could discover and interact with other cultures and civilizations And with the fifth element, we could have total and complete planar peace. We could have a perfect world.” Mr. Shalestone smirked behind his well-groomed moustache and beard.

“ ‘The Legendary Tabuletaries’? Psellos? Wormhole and tears in the fabric of our universe? A fifth element, Mr. Puck,” Mr. Shalestone’s voice grew hard, skeptical and unyielding, “you have been reading too many fairy tales. Science is not some sort of middle ground for the frustrated artist, if you imagine such things are possible than it is highly improbable and therefore you’d make a better yellow journalist than a scientist. Such highly spiritual mumbo jumbo has no place in the Gathdon Science League. You have no concrete evidence that these ‘legends’ you speak of even exist. It’s popular tripe for children, Mr. Puck. You couldn’t even produce a Tabuletary to prove it.”

“They were lost in the Great Fire of Agatha. You know that! It’s history!” Lionel shouted back.

“It’s myth! Agatha was a great realm in the past yes, but most of the histories surrounding the happenings within it are myth, Mr. Puck. Myth!” Mr. Shalestone interrupted his eyes blazing, losing all sense of propriety. He turned and stormed halfway down the hallway. Lionel stood there numb with disillusionment.

Shalestone stopped momentarily and said over his shoulder, “Mr. Lionel Puck, you can’t expect the Gathdon Science League to believe or support this fairy tale hogwash. This is far flung, fantasy, not even remotely connected to science. I suggest that you go back to whatever it was you were doing before you took the notion of scientist into your head. Good day, sir.”

The heavy oak doors of the Gathdon Science League slammed mockingly at Lionel’s back. Where was the instinct for discovery in science? Where was the desire to figure out the mysteries of the universe? Such urges were “fairy-tale hogwash” locked behind the solid security of so-called reason. Lionel looked down at his weighted arms. He had hundreds of calculations, twice as many scrolls and references, about ten heavy books, probably millions of pencils and one failure.

Failure. The word had so many meanings at that moment. He had failed. He was now a penniless, homeless, tramp. There was no one he knew, no one who cared. He had failed to prove the one thing that held his fascination night and day. Now, all he had were his books and his useless calculations.

Mr. Lionel Puck, you can’t expect us to believe this fairy tale hogwash. This is far flung, fantasy, not even remotely connected to science.

The words echoed into his subconscious. They branded themselves to his eyelids. He looked at his calculations in disgust. He even entertained the idea of throwing them away. But he really did love all the work he had put in and quickly reminded himself that, it was Shalestone who was wrong. Lionel was just a man looking inside from a gorgeous garden into a dull parlor where tightly collared men sat sipping brandy and discussing the horse races as if it were a science. Still, pity wasn’t going to get Lionel any where.

Might as well walk, He thought, No sense in standing at the door to a future that will never be.

So he entered into the ambiguous hodge-podge of people, mindless to everything except their menial tasks and small time woes. It was a vortex of perpetual self-absorption. Lionel felt ill at ease as many of the more dangerous looking citizens sized him up as a target from afar.

From somewhere in the crowd a face, neither easy to remember nor easy to forget, drank in his every detail. The faceless face turned to a man with a pipe standing behind it.

“He’s the one.” It said, though no sound came from the anonymous specter.

“Good. You know what to do.” The man replied audibly before turning and rolling away nonchalantly in his chair. With only the whisper of the wind the shadow moved noiselessly, blending in with the regular people along the streets. Within minutes, it was already indistinguishable.

Lionel was jostled quickly through the crowd and very soon found himself fleeing the urban river for a less crowded byway. The alley way before him certainly didn’t look inviting. Dark and dank, it was empty, and perhaps had rats in it. Lionel shivered. He hated rats. Well, he didn’t relish another pummeling in the mindless rapids of the street behind him, and with nowhere to go to it seemed enticing enough to stir his glum boredom. The high walls of the buildings on either side gave it a stark, claustrophobic feeling. A cold breeze and the presence of a man behind him caused Lionel to turn abruptly and defensively put up his hands.

“Mr. Puck?” The voice sounded friendly enough, but so had, Mr. Shalestone on first examination.

“Yes, that is who I am.” Lionel said keeping his arms half up, in case this dark figure meant to do him harm.

“I have heard that your work for the Gathdon Science League was rejected.” A man in a black overcoat stood before him with a clean-shaven face and sculpted mustache. On his head was a black velvet top hat, and he carried a wooden cane with a brass handle.

“News travels fast since no one, knew I was here, and I haven’t even had time to get drunk enough to complain about it.” Lionel replied cautiously.

The man had a sticky sort of smile,“ The Guilds have their own means of finding out information. Many say we have more ears than eyes. I represent the Guildship. In fact the Head Guildsman is quite interested in your, discovery. Your paper you sent to the Gathdon Journal was published you know. The Head of the Guilds was very impressed.”

“Was he?” Lionel asked.

“The Head Guildsman researched into your area of study himself. He would like to hear more about your… ideas.” The man said pausing oddly, as if every word could have some unknown meaning like some sort of private joke.

From the roof, a figure, among the shadows of a close storm listened intently and quickly leapt across from on roof to another. Lionel and the man looked up. There was nothing. The man seemed to be more than a little on edge.

“Let us go then. He wanted to see you right away.” The man said quickly.

“May I ask your name sir?”

“It is Eudas Finch. Now, let’s go!” The man said grabbing Lionel’s wrist like he was a small child and pulled him towards the far end of the alley.

Some bits of stone rolled from the roof and fell with a clatter among the cobblestones. Eudas quickened his pace. Shadows were closing around him. Too many shadows for noon…

A hard gust of wind blew towards them, knocking Eudas’ hat off and blowing Lionel’s loose jacket into his face. Eudas stopped dead and watched the end of the alleyway, frozen in terror.

Out of the ground, like the earth itself was a mystical lake, a figure rose out of the shadows. A wind swirled in the opposite direction blowing the shadow traveler’s crimson over coat wildly. Slowly the head lifted all the way up, fixing Eudas in a steely gaze.

“You.” Eudas gasped pointing accusingly at this crimson clad specter.

At first she didn’t reply, letting her hair as black as death, whip around in the gale surrounding her. She smiled smugly and took a solid step forward.

“Don’t come any closer. I found him first.” Eudas said trying to look menacing.

“On the contrary, I saw him first, you thief. Since the last time one of your kind crossed my path you know what I do to those who take what is mine. I sent his carcass back in pieces.” She replied, her eyes flickering from red to deep midnight blue. Eudas took a step back. Lionel cut in front of him protectively.

“Listen! You leave him alone. If it’s me you want. Take me!” Lionel said, although his voice was shaking.

She looked over at Eudas and shrugged, “You heard the man,” and before Lionel could call for help she appeared in front of him and everything went dark.