Double Life - Book 1 of the Vaiya Series (37 page)

Swiping a few adventurous red beetles off his
shoes, and avoiding the swarming bushes that housed thousands more,
he moved warily through the forest, keeping his eyes fixed on any
creature that looked like it was even remotely thinking about
moving into his bubble, while quickly shoving away any thoughts
that he had gone over the deep end into the furthest recesses of
his mind. In all reality, he hadn’t lost his mind. Whatever this
place was, it was definitely real and not in the least bit
imaginary. This was no dream or hallucination.

Glad to know that he wasn’t going insane,
Jimmy stepped over a gurgling brook, its clear waters meandering
across the landscape, and noticed a few slender orange and yellow
birds, perched on the lowest branches of the tall trees, as they
began singing lighthearted melodies, reminiscent of sunny days and
morning strolls through a park.

Drawn by their cheery music, he was
unprepared when a long blood-red salamander, slithered over his
right shoe, causing him to nearly fall backwards into the brook.
Catching his balance just in time, he was greeted by a translucent
purple frog, which hopped onto his shoulder and brushed against his
neck with its slimy wet legs before leaping off into a bush.

Gasping in sick amusement, Jimmy peered
penetratingly at the forest above him in search of any more
potentially falling reptiles or amphibians. What kind of place was
this? It seemed all the woodland creatures wanted a piece of
him.

Seeing no immediate threats from above, he
turned to the ground just in time to see a three-foot tall
black-haired bunny gazing at him from across the brook with its
coal black eyes. Not wasting any time debating whether or not the
bunny wanted to share a cup of tea with him, Jimmy bolted off in
the other direction, not looking back for anything.

As he raced through a huge patch of the
blue-barked trees, the scents of cinnamon and guava nectar flooded
his nose, yet he ignored their enticements and continued running.
It was probably just a trap that would give the monstrous bunny
time to catch him.

A minute later, out of breath, he stumbled
out of the forest, his sides heaving. He hated to admit it, but
being a cross country runner just wasn’t one of his strengths. He’d
teased Jason before, saying how easy running was, and that anyone
could do it with a little practice, but now he’d have to rethink
this. Even with a year of practice, he couldn’t ever imagine
himself in good enough shape to run the three-mile race. He’d be
surprised if it didn’t kill him.

His only solace for his physical exhaustion
was that the course he’d just run wasn’t a typical one for a cross
country race. Aside from the logs that lined his escape route,
large rocks, viny plants, the occasional stream, and a whole bunch
of animals also impeded his flight. It just wasn’t possible for him
to make such a precarious run without consuming large amounts of
energy.

Brushing off the silver pollen that covered
his legs, likely a result of having run through a patch of native
silver wildflowers, Jimmy shifted his focus, hearing voices nearby
speaking in an unrecognizable language that reminded him of German
only riddled with more harsh consonants.

It didn’t take long before he saw two young
men, both with dark black hair, coming towards him as if intrigued
by him. They both wore what looked like lavender kilts, which came
down to their feet, and maple-colored goatskin sandals, while they
carried long slender swords in their calloused hands. The
razor-edged blades, made from a light purple steel-like material,
shimmered in the sunlight; their ebony hilts, both etched with a
stone white castle, spoke of both dignity and power.

Straightening himself out and dusting off his
blue jeans, Jimmy approached the men cautiously, a timid smile on
his face, still panting softly as he heard voices coming from the
forest he’d just exited. “Hi, there.”

But they just looked at each other with
confusion, mumbling indiscernible words, while Jimmy, not able to
understand them, felt his heart skip a beat. Maybe they were
criminals about to rob a store, or thieves about to break into
somebody’s house and steal something valuable. He’d better get out
of here. This world didn’t seem to have his best interests in
mind.

Thinking of the safest way to escape, he saw
a group of twenty dreary looking young men and women all dressed in
silver robes emerge from the forest, two of them looking absolutely
ill. The swordsmen, seeing this, left Jimmy in a hurry and went
over to help the two sick students.

As they did this, a burly man clothed
entirely in leather and possessing a hardy, unflinching demeanor,
came out of the woods. Though he was trailing behind the twenty,
his confident face and authoritative aura made him seem the leader
of this forlorn group. Something about the way he could still be so
happy while those he commanded looked so miserable made Jimmy
uneasy.

Standing there, wondering what to do next, he
was met by two of the young men who’d left their group and had
decided to chat to him. Unfortunately, however, as they began
talking to him, with curious expressions on their faces, their
words fell vainly upon his ears. He couldn’t understand a word they
said.

Feeling very uncomfortable, he tried to ask
them questions, but they only pointed at him and whispered among
themselves, as if he were an idiot. And right now, he certainly
felt like one.

Not wanting to stay any longer in this awful
situation, he quickly moved away from all the action, and began
trotting down a long marble pathway towards a spacious silver manor
nearly half a mile away. Even from this vantage point though, he
could tell that the manor was beautiful and far more majestic than
any structure he’d ever seen in person.

As he drew nearer to it, his interest piqued,
he noticed dozens of star-shaped windows staring down at him, many
silver-tiled balconies decked with gold chairs and circular wood
tables hanging out from each one of the four stories of the
edifice, and various neatly trimmed trees scattered around the
grounds of the manor.

Ever the nature lover, Jimmy couldn’t help
but gaze in fascination at the different colored leaves on the
trees. Some leaves were golden, some sapphire-green, some bright
yellow, some light silver, and some a bright red.

Thrilled that the outside of the manor had
such lovely scenery, he grew all the more eager to check out the
inside of it, knowing that it could only be more magnificent.

However, as he ran towards the gate, he was
stopped by four fierce-looking guards wearing dark silver helmets
and silver battle armor. Two-edged light-purple swords were in
their hands and a two-foot diameter circular silver shield in the
other. The weight from carrying all that silver didn’t seem to faze
them in the slightest.

“Halt in the name of King Ralin!” one of them
shouted to him.

Not understanding their speech, he dug his
feet into the ground anyway and came to a quick standstill. His
lips trembled, his heart pounding inside him, as he stepped
backwards, eying them with extreme caution. Better not to say
anything.

As he stood there in silence, the eldest
looking guard with fine white hair and a knotted gray beard studded
with pearls, pulled a small sketch out of his pocket and examined
it intently, sharing it with his comrades.

As they gazed at it for about a minute,
glancing occasionally at Jimmy, the eldest spoke up, apologizing,
“Forgive us for not recognizing you sooner, Ferinor, but we didn’t
think you northerners had such foreign apparel.” As Jimmy
hesitated, the guard gave him a quizzical look. “Come on in,
Ferinor. No need to be as bashful as a shepherdess. The master has
been greatly looking forward to your arrival.”

However, no matter how much they talked,
nothing made any sense to him. Obviously, English wasn’t their
specialty. Maybe another language would work. Racking his brain for
a good French phrase, he quickly found one. He worked on his best
accent as he mustered, “Je ne comprends pas.”

But it was obvious that they didn’t
understand his words enough to know that he was telling them he
didn’t understand them. Instead, the two guards gave him a frown
that one would give to a child who’d just stuck an ice cream cone
up his sister’s nose, as they came alongside him, one on each side,
and then pushed on his back, nearly tripping him. “Hurry up,
Ferinor, and stop blathering nonsense. Do not keep the master
waiting any longer; he has already waited a ship’s voyage.”

Irritated by their rude behavior, Jimmy bit
his lip and remained quiet, his mind a whirl of confusion, as the
other two guards pulled the lever and opened up the gate. Nothing
made any sense to him; he couldn’t even understand one word they
spoke. For all he knew, they might as well have been speaking
Arabic.

Yielding reluctantly to the two guards as
they escorted him the rest of the short way down the marble
pathway, Jimmy breathed in the thick fragrances of maple syrup and
sugar cane that wafted from the seven-petaled cherry red and
three-petaled green flowers that lined the path. Their sweet aromas
comforted him and gave his puzzled mind some relief; it didn’t last
long though.

As they reached a silver door, streaked with
gold dust, the two guards uttered a strange farewell to him and
then marched back down the marble path towards the gate, leaving
him all alone.

Intimidated, hoping that the occupant of the
mansion was friendly and bilingual, with the second language being
English, Jimmy knocked hesitantly on the door.

To his surprise, the door immediately swung
open and an elderly gray-bearded and gray-haired man, who reminded
him of Saruman from Lord of the Rings, stood in front of him,
gazing at him. The tall man, wearing an azure blue cloak that
stretched down to his sturdy knees, wore pine green sandals and
clutched a cherry wood staff with his right hand.

In complete awe, feeling extremely
intimidated, Jimmy listened as the man spoke in the same harsh
abrupt language as the guards had earlier. Trying to discern the
syllables, where each word began, and what each word might mean,
Jimmy spoke several sentences to the man in English, before a wave
of energy struck his body. Trembling from the force of energy, he
felt a rough hand on his shoulder, as wise jet black eyes peered
down at him.

“I’ve been expecting you for some time now,
Ferinor,” said the bearded man, nodding his head calmly, as he
paced back and forth in the enormous library, a few students nearby
sitting down on a bench and temporarily disbanding their studies of
a large silvery blue book to look up at Jimmy. “I must say though,
you’re not as old as I’ve been led to believe. And your Sarithian
language skills are much worse than I’d expected.” He paused,
massaging the dolphin sculpted head of the staff with his fingers
as he peered at Jimmy’s blue jeans and torn shirt.

Finally given the chance to speak, Jimmy eyed
the wizard-man with bewilderment, surprised that he actually
understood him now. “Who are you, sir?” he asked in Sarithian,
mouthing the words to his astonishment.

“Who am I?” Smoldering crossness spread over
his already dark countenance as his gray bushy eyebrows tinged with
white sunk into his eyes. “I’m Master Zenari, chief sage of Sarith,
son of Methril and Valicia Aevin. Of all the things I’d expected
you to ask me upon your arrival, this was the last.”

“Of course, Master.” Jimmy gazed at him
nervously, sheepishly, before letting out a weak chuckle. “I was
merely joking, though.”

The master’s eyes immediately flamed, as he
leaned his face forward in rage. “I will not tolerate any more
nonsense, Ferinor. This whole time I’ve been expecting a
well-educated, articulate noble, and instead I get an ignorant,
babbling peasant who spins childish jokes in king’s palaces. If
your mother didn’t establish your high character in her missives,
you wouldn’t even be standing here right now. Such tardiness is
completely intolerable.” Silence. Then some more.

Though Jimmy found it slightly amusing that
they both shared a common dislike for tardiness, the bad situation
squeezed out any mirth from him. Finally, the punishing silence was
too much to handle. “So you’ve been expecting me, Master?” he
managed to ask.

“Yes, for about a week.” Shooting daggered
looks at Jimmy, he threw out three statements in angry monotone.
“You will need new clothes. You are a week behind in your studies.
You are already on my bad side.” His mouth’s sharp curves could
have sliced open a trout. “Is that clear enough, or do you want me
to give you more trivial information about things you should’ve
already understood?”

Jimmy’s eyes narrowed, glassing over; he
stole a quick breath. It finally struck him--just who was he
impersonating? And why wasn’t this person here already?

Before he’d thought too long about it,
though, Zenari threw out another insult. “You have the same rude
disposition that your mother warned me about, Ferinor. This will
not be tolerated for long.” He paused, seizing his gray beard, and
shook it around. “Follow me; you have much to learn.”

Stomach a sailor’s knot, he followed the sage
to a classroom, three other students, all dressed in identical
silver robes, trailing behind him, whispering to each other. The
room was filled with weird globes--for he didn’t recognize any of
the countries--test tubes, thick ornate books, colorful maps,
bizarre flowers, myriads of weeds, dozens of different shaped
roots, unusual symbols and many other nature-related things. Many
other students were already there, and there were just enough
chairs for the four of them to sit down.

As Jimmy took a seat in a bronze chair next
to a young man with straight blond hair, everyone arose reverently
from their seats and bowed three times to the sage, the sort of
deep bow that bends your back completely flat. It felt like he was
in Japan.