Aurelius and I (6 page)

If you will permit me, dear reader, a further brief interruption to our tale, I feel it necessary to emphasise that this last point is absolutely true – I have confirmed it through my own experience many times since. So think twice the next time you consider leaving a flaming bag of poo on the doorstep of the stubby-toed, wart-covered old lady who lives at the end of the street, for you may find yourself turned into a frog, or a dung beetle, or any number of other unpleasant little creatures that your apparently frail and elderly neighbour deems to be appropriate. You have been warned.

“Unfortunately, most magical beings are not so lucky,” Aurelius continued. “It would be difficult to imagine a dragon working at Dixons, or a fairy operating successfully as a taxi driver. And so the vast majority are forced to seek shelter in out of the way places. Only these out of the way places are becoming less and less out of the way, and more and more crowded. And many are being destroyed altogether.”

“So what has all this got to do with The Professor? Or with me for that matter?” I asked.

“Excellent question, young man. Always on the ball, always thinking, that’s what I like about you,” Aurelius answered with another of his sudden fits of enthusiasm, the likes of which I was already growing used to. “The answer is as follows; The Professor has somehow – no one knows exactly how – managed to come across great power, greater power than has ever previously been bestowed on a single individual.”

“And he’s using this to destroy the homes of magical creatures?” I interrupted, allowing myself to be caught up in the fernator’s enthusiasm.

“No. Quite the opposite actually. He is using his newly-acquired powers to create an alternate reality, another realm separate from this world, where magical creatures can live free from the fear of destruction at the hands of the humans. A realm named Roobatzi.”

“Roobatzi?” I repeated for no apparent reason, something which seemed to be becoming a habit of mine.

“Yes, it’s a strange term. In the Alundri language it is a great and powerful word which stirs up feelings of fear and pride all at once, and yet when literally translated into English it means ‘The Custard Sandwich of the Dolphin’.”

“But isn’t this
Roobatzi
a good idea?” I ventured. “Wouldn’t separating humans and magical creatures solve all the problems?”

“No, Charlie, it would not,” Aurelius replied in a voice that was stern yet sad. “I’m afraid that segregation is never the answer – a fact which is particularly true in this instance. You see, even The Professor doesn’t have the power to maintain such a realm, especially as its population is rapidly increasing due to the destruction of traditional Alundri homes by humans seeking to build houses for their own kind. The only way the Realm’s existence can be maintained is through an alternative power source. The power obtained through the harvesting of human souls.”

“Human souls!?!” I exclaimed, beginning to annoy myself now with all the repetition.

“I’m afraid so, Charlie. You see, once an Alundri becomes a citizen of Roobatzi, they are required to perform certain ‘duties of citizenship’ if they wish to stay. These effectively amount to the taking of human life at the will of The Professor, through plagues, and curses, and natural disasters and the like.”

“But, why do they do it?”

“Some do it because they like to kill, because they feel that the humans deserve to be punished. Others do it because they are brainwashed into thinking that what they are doing is for the best, that it will somehow make things better for everyone in the long run. Sadly though, the majority do it out of sheer desperation. They know that what they are doing is wrong, but their homes have been destroyed and they feel that Roobatzi is the only place they and their families will be safe. I fear that this will be the case with many of the inhabitants of Hanselwood Forest, unless we can find a way of stopping it from being destroyed.”

“Destroyed!?!”

“Yes, Charlie, I’m afraid so. You see, I’m afraid that the local council are on the verge of selling the forest to a firm of property developers who want to turn it into a swanky apartment complex with its own communal pool and shopping centre.”

“But, they can’t do that,” I exclaimed in desperation. “People would never let it happen.”

“Oh I’m afraid they would, Charlie. You see, nobody really comes to Hanselwood Forest anymore, they are all afraid of it. They think it’s haunted. Everybody goes to Englethorpe Wood instead. It’s almost as big and is no great distance from hear. Unfortunately, the ghost stories that have for so long made Hanselwood a safe-haven for the magical community have ultimately conspired to bring about its downfall. Even the usual bunch of hippies and environmentalists who protest every time someone so much as trims their hedge are too afraid of what might lie in the forest to pitch up their tents and their tree houses. In short, I’m afraid you, young sir, are our last hope.”

“Me?” I asked. “What can I do? I’m just an eight year old boy. No-one will listen to me.”

“But you’re not just an eight year old boy, are you, Charlie? You’re a Protector. And right now there are a vast number of magical creatures that need your protection, so you’re just going to have to find a way of making people listen.”

***

Now, I realise that at this point some of you are probably thinking to yourselves that Aurelius’s tale wasn’t scary at all. That I simply built it up to be something that it wasn’t in order to create tension and keep you interested. Well, congratulations, you’re very brave. Or maybe you’re just very stupid. Who am I to judge? I am certain, however, that there are others of you who are feeling differently and who
are
frightened of the professor and his ear-stealing, finger-breaking ways, and understandably so. In any case, regardless of how you yourself are feeling at this moment, you may be assured that I
was
scared.
Very
scared. And my fear was about to increase ten-fold.

***

We continued our search for Aurelius’s as yet nameless supper in silence. As I mentioned, I was scared. I was scared not only of the evil Professor, but also of the immense responsibility that had been so unexpectedly placed on my young shoulders. I tried to stay calm by reasoning with myself that, aside from the decidedly human-looking man in front of me, I had never actually seen a magical being for myself. Indeed, the only evidence I had of their existence was the combined ravings of an overly-superstitious, tea-hyped gypsy woman, and a lanky, velvet-clad weirdo who harboured a paranoid assertion that supermarkets were the root of all evil. Indeed, I had been walking in the woods for what seemed like hours without ever coming across the slightest trace of anything that could be considered to be in any way magical.

But then, just as I was beginning to allow myself to be soothed by such thoughts, the ground around me began to tremble.

It wasn’t a steady shaking like the tremors before earthquakes I had seen in movies, but more like the entire world had just jumped five feet into the air and landed again with an ungainly thud. Then, for a few moments, there was nothing. I began to wonder if I had imagined it. But, just as I turned to Aurelius to enquire as to whether he had felt it too, it happened again. And again. And again.

THUD! THUD! THUD!

The hollow sound echoed through the forest like the beat of a giant’s drum, each hit of the skin accompanied by another earth-shaking tremor. Each thud was louder than the last and occurred closer to the next. It was then that it hit me; I wasn’t experiencing an earthquake at all, but simply footsteps.
Big
footsteps. Something was coming our way, something enormous, and it was coming fast.

I could have run, perhaps I should have run, certainly most people I knew would have run. But most people didn’t have magical powers. It wasn’t most people’s job to protect the vulnerable. I had already turned and fled at the first sign of danger once that week, I was determined not to do so again. Or perhaps I was simply too scared to do so – I forget now. And so, whether through paralysing fear or foolish stubbornness, I stood and waited to see what emerged from the forest.

“GRRARRGHHH!!!”

The cry that came from out of the bushes was the most frightening sound I had ever heard.

“GRRARRGHHH!!!”

It came again. Louder than before. Closer than before.

I could see the bushes moving in front of me, small trees being sucked from the horizon as everything in the as yet invisible creature’s path was demolished. And then, suddenly, there were no bushes. It had arrived.

“GRRARRGHHH!!!”

It cried once more (for to me, it was still most definitely an ‘it’, indeed, even though it stood before me in broad daylight, loudly wailing its cry of death, I still could not have said what it was. I would almost have called it a man, for it had two arms, two legs, a torso and a head, just like any other man. And yet it was not a man. There was something distinctly inhuman about it. For a start, it stood well over ten feet tall). As I stood their examining the creature, fear and disbelief rooting me to the spot - the faintest whisper of courage having left me at the moment my eyes met with the thing’s, there was something else about this creature that told me that he was not human.

“GRRARRGHHH!!!” the creature that was not human cried again, while performing some sort of strange, angry, tribal dance in front of us which involved a great deal of hopping and shouting. I only hoped it wasn’t part of some sacrificial ritual.

“Oh, Barry, whatever is the matter, old chap?” asked Aurelius.

Old Chap! I didn’t know what I was more shocked at; the fact that Aurelius so calmly entered into conversation with this deranged beast, or the fact that the deranged beast possessed a name as innocuous and undemonic as Barry.

“MY FOOOTTT!!!” wailed the enormous, angry monster. “MY FOOOOTT!!!” he cried again, holding his enormous left foot as if to illustrate his assertion.

“What’s wrong with your foot, dear fellow?”

“It hurts,” Barry replied, his voice softening. He was quickly beginning to sound more like a simple-minded little girl than a fearsome monster. “I got a splinter.”

“I see,” Aurelius said soothingly, as though he were speaking to a two year old who had grazed their knee. “Well, let’s see if we can do something about that shall we?” And with that he walked over to Barry and, to my great surprise, removed his hat and took from within it a pair of pliers.

“Ah yes, I see it. Now, hold still, Barry, this may hurt just a little, but then it will be all over, okay?”

“Okay,” agreed Barry.

“AAAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!”

It was the loudest cry yet, and brought with it child-like tears that looked decidedly out-of-place as they rolled down the creature’s hard, leathery cheeks.

“All done,” Aurelius said kindly. In his hand he held the pliers, and in between them the ‘splinter’ which had been the cause of all the trouble, and which was, in reality, a twig the size of my forefinger.

“Thank you, Aurelius,” sniffled Barry, attempting in vain to stop the tears and at least pretend to have been brave about the whole thing.

“No problem at all, Barry,” the Fernator assured him. “No problem at all, although I’ve told you before that you really should be wearing shoes to walk around the forest in - its full of all manner of glass and animal traps and various other enemies of bare feet, who knows what might end up with in your foot next time?”

“I know, I know. It’s just that it’s not easy to find decent footwear when you have size twenty-seven feet. The last pair of shoes I got made them look all big and clumpy.”

I quietly wondered to myself, as you are no doubt wondering now, how somebody with a shoe size of twenty-seven could avoid making their feet look clumpy, but I was still far too frightened of the enormous creature to have voiced such a question aloud.

“Never mind. I’d like you to meet a very special friend of mine, Barry,” Aurelius said, turning to face me, “this is Charlie.”

“Hello,” said the enormous, man-like creature. “Sorry if I scared you.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I wasn’t very scared,” I lied.

“Oh, I thought you might have been,” he replied, sounding disappointed.

“Sorry,” I ventured, not really knowing what to say now that my lie of politeness had unexplainably backfired on me.

“No, it’s okay,” he replied. “I didn’t really want to scare you, it’s just that, I kind of always feel like I should be scaring people, you know, that is what ogre’s are supposed to do after all.”

“Are you really an ogre?”

“Well of course I’m really an ogre,” came the curt reply. “How rude of you. I mean, I know I’m a little short, but I’m still an ogre. You’re not very tall either you know, but I suppose you still consider yourself a human?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to question... I was a bit scared, you know” I reassured him, trying to back-peddle my way of yet another accidental insult.

“Really?” he asked. “You’re not just saying that?”

“Oh no. And I wasn’t the only one either, I mean all the little rabbits and squirrels were running for their lives when you arrived, they were positively terrified.”