Water: Maybe™

Blythe was enjoying a peaceful meal when suddenly, his world flipped upside down – not literally. He heard a soft, gentle meow and looked down to see a stray black cat sitting by his leg. Blythe grinned, for he had a soft spot for animals, and the city of Ferula was quite welcoming and accepting of all creatures. Strays were safe here, well-fed, and the citizens of the city watched over them.

He picked out a bit of meat from his plate, placed it on a napkin, and set it on the ground. The stray ate it without hesitation, then rubbed its head against his leg. However, as with all good things in life, meals eventually come to an end. Blythe finished his food and needed to make one stop before returning to his castle. He visited the merchant’s guild.

“Ah, Duke, welcome, welcome! I’ll be right with you!” exclaimed a well-dressed man, hurriedly carrying a stack of papers.

Blythe took a seat in the lobby and awaited his return. Something rubbed against his leg again. He looked down to see the same black stray from before.

“Oh? You followed me, little guy?” he said with a gentle smile, leaned down, and scratched it behind the ear.

The black cat purred softly, enjoying the attention. That’s when Blythe noticed the collar. He lifted up the tag and tried to read the text on it, but to his surprise, he couldn’t. It was in a language he had never seen before.

“My apologies, Duke! It’s been a tremendously busy Monday,” said the merchant as he approached them.

“Oh, you got a new pet?” Blythe stood up to greet the head of the Merchants Guild, then glanced downward.

“Just a stray, actually.” They conversed for a while, and then the Duke departed to sign some papers. The cat remained in the lobby, patiently waiting for him before following him back to his castle.

At the castle, the duke grabbed a refreshing cup of water, poured some into a bowl, and set it on the floor for the cat. “Strange one, aren’t you, little guy?” he said, sitting on the floor beside the cat, patting it as it drank. “Where do you come from, I wonder…”

The duke’s castle wasn’t too big, nor was the city of Ferula. It housed him and two of his assistants who kept the place tidy and his schedule in check.

Night time came, and with it, the oddities he had never experienced before. He awoke from wolves howling. Sitting up in his bed, confused, he blinked a few times. “Wolves?” he pondered for a while, hearing the howl once more. It emanated not from outside, but from within his castle. Not through the window but through the door. His eyes widened as he reached for the sword hung on the wall above the bed. As he grasped the sword, darkness consumed him.

He was suddenly holding onto a rope, not the handle of a sword he had previously grabbed. Wind whistled; the basket he stood in shook. The black cat meowed out of despair as it grasped the edge of the basket with all of its might, digging its claws into the fabric.

“Ahoy! Finally awake, ain’t cha? Hold the ladder; there’s a hole I ought to patch up,” said a raggedy-looking man in torn clothes and a stern expression on his face.

“Ahem… Pardon me, but where am I? And how did I get here?” inquired Blythe.

“We’re about 500 meters above the ground, and as for how you got here…heck if I know? You suddenly appeared, holding onto the rope while sleeping, and I’m here trying not to crash and break a world record! Now, hold the ladder for me, will you?”

Blythe peered over the edge of the basket, staring down at the ground that was getting closer.

In the basket with him were the man, several canisters of compressed gas, boxes of balloons, and a frightened cat clinging for its dear life. He practically leaped across the basket and clung onto the rope ladder leading up. At last, he gazed up at what was holding them in the air. The basket was attached with thick ropes to three large balloons, and from these ropes came smaller offshoots, connecting to smaller balloons. The rope seemed to be firmly tied to one of the three large balloons.

The man climbed the rope as if his life depended on it, ‘and it probably did,’ concluded Duke while peering over the edge of the basket once more, seeing the ground get ever closer. Seconds felt like long minutes; Duke clung to the rope ladder, concerned for his life but not afraid, oddly enough. At last, a shout came from above: “FOUND IT!” Some ripping and screeching sounds later, the rope shook once more as the man descended it.

He gave Blythe a confident grin. “T’was a big rip, damned pigeons! But it’s all fixed now!” Blythe stepped aside, helping the man back into the basket. Then, relieved, he leaned against the basket wall.

“Phew… Well done, stranger.” The man offered him a hand. “Name’s Mike, the conqueror of limits! And you?” Blythe took his hand.

“Blythe, Duke of Ferula.” “Huh… never heard of it,” Mike shrugged. “Alright lad, help me up by filling some larger balloons. We ought to gain some height.”

They worked, joked, giggled, and talked. They ate, despaired, and helped each other. Hours passed; the night had fallen. With the fall of night, darkness touched Blythe. A paw, black as the abyss – absence of all and everything – touched his hand. He shuddered from fear. In the dim moonlight, he saw the cat staring into his eyes. Fear washed over him; his mouth dried, he gasped, and the cold night air hurt his skin.

He glanced around the vast, dark forest, knee-deep in snow. Freezing winds clawed at his skin, causing his cheeks to hurt; he shuddered. “What the hell is going on?” The cat accompanying him ran off into the darkness. He followed in its footsteps, attempting to keep up but struggling to run through the snow. Eventually, he discovered the cat’s trail leading into a cave. He followed, shivering from the cold, for all he had on were his pajamas and slippers. He rubbed his arms, trying to keep the blood flowing.

The cave was cold, but at least no wind was clawing at his skin. It howled outside as he leaned against the wall. Shuddering, shivering, and whimpering, he was a broken mess, confused by the events. His body weakened; the coldness took over. He fell limp onto the floor, his eyelids heavy and his breathing ragged. With a throat as dry as the desert, “wa…ter” was the last thing he uttered before his eyes finally closed.

He awoke in the same cave, but to his surprise, he felt warm and well rested. He struggled up and explored the cave. Within it, he found no traces of water, only a frozen solid lake. Thirsty still from the night before, he stumbled out of the cave, before him unfolded a view straight from a fairy tale. A vast forest covered in pure white snow, the scenery was almost breathtaking. The morning sun glittered off the pure, undisturbed snow. The silent forest brought a sense of calmness to him.

“How am I not freezing, anyways?” he pondered for a moment. A gentle meow caught his attention. Glancing down, he saw a black cat, which looked at him briefly before licking its paw and walking out of the cave. Kneeling down, he scooped up some snow. Snow is water; just need to eat it, he thought.

But as he held it in his hand, he realized it did not melt, nor did it feel cold. When he tried to lick it, it was like licking sand; it stuck to his tongue, got between his teeth, but did not melt. The cat ran off into the forest and he followed it. They walked for hours, and when all hope seemed lost, the cat began to meow desperately, as if trying to draw his attention. Nearly fainting from exhaustion and thirst, Blythe looked in the direction where the cat was staring and saw a small hut.

In the hut, he found a cauldron with warm soup inside. Too exhausted to hesitate, he scooped some up and slurped it. “Ahhh!” He exhaled with relief, then offered some to the cat. It licked a bit of the soup before running off and clawing at a door. Blythe followed his companion, which seemed to bring both fear and a sense of safety. He opened the door, and behind it was his room.

His eyes widened. “H…huh?” The cat, however, did not hesitate. It ran straight in, and Blythe followed. The door closed behind them; the howl he had heard before echoed through his castle once more. “What the heck is going on…” he pondered, glared at the sword, and then shook his head. “Nope… not touching that again.” He cautiously opened the door they had just come through; it was his closet, nothing abnormal about it.

He approached the door of his room and slowly turned the handle, then carefully pulled it open and peeked into the hallway. His room was on the 2nd floor, with the library further down the hall and his office on the other side. The castle was otherwise quiet, except for the occasional howl echoing through its empty halls. He hesitated at first, but finally mustered his courage and ventured out.

The howls seemed to come from the same place, so whatever it was, did not appear to wander the castle. He decided to check the library first, as the howls seemed to originate from downstairs. Carefully opening the door, he peeked inside the dimly lit library. At first, all appeared fine, except for a book emitting a gentle glow. He stared at the bookshelf in the back where the aforementioned book was, pondered for a moment, but then the cat dashed past him, heading straight for the glow.

“Hey! W…ah, whatever!” He exclaimed, following the cat. As they approached the bookshelf, the glow grew brighter, and the book flew out, opened to page 187, and fell onto the floor. He knelt down to read the chapter title, while the cat sat beside the book, staring at him as if waiting for him to do something. He read, “Above all seemed calm. But beneath, it rumbled, roared, and then burst out.” He picked up the book and turned it around; it was titled ‘The Nature’s Threats.’

The floor shook beneath his feet. He gasped and glanced around. Smoke began to rise through the floorboards, which creaked and squeaked. In the middle of the library, they burst. A small peak emerged from beneath the floor, spewing smoke and ash. Shortly after, lava began to flow. He screamed and scrambled, jumping up on the shelf and climbing higher. The room beneath him filled with boiling lava, yet the books from the shelves floated on it, unburnt.

The cat glanced at him, sitting atop a bookshelf on which he was hanging, then leaped off and skillfully jumped from book to book, eventually resting on the large encyclopedia that floated by the door. He swallowed hard – “uh… n..no…” he proclaimed, realizing just how insane the act of jumping on books floating on lava sounded. However, the lava continued to boil beneath him. He climbed to the top of the bookshelf and leaped from one to the next, gradually getting closer to the exit.

At last, only about 3 meters of boiling lava separated him from the door. He sighed, left with no choice but to walk the path of books. Carefully, he climbed down and stepped onto a book. It rocked under his feet but stayed afloat. He lowered his entire weight on it and sighed, “This is not normal…” Cautiously, he took one calculated step after another, until he finally faced the door. He grabbed the handle and turned it; the door swung open and he, along with the cat, leaped out of the library through the door.

They rolled on the floor, creating quite the ruckus, and then lay there on the bronze-colored carpet. Blythe’s assistant sleepily approached them, rubbed his eye, and looked down at Duke Blythe lying on the carpet in the middle of the night, exhausted, with a seemingly equally exhausted cat beside him. “Sire? Is everything alright?” Blythe gasped for air and shakily pointed at the library door that had closed behind them. “Th…there’s a vol…cano in the… library!” He spoke between heavy breaths.

His assistant raised an eyebrow and glanced at the library door. “Sire, hast thou been sleepwalking?” He approached the door, smelled the air, and touched the handle before swinging it open to reveal the same, old, familiar library to Duke. “All seems to be in order, sire. Might I suggest you return to bed?”

Blythe let his hand drop to the floor and slumped down. “No, it’s quite alright… I’ll rest right here for a little.” His assistant bowed. “Yes sire, have a pleasant night.” He turned, walked to the washroom, and shortly after, returned to his room. At last, Blythe sat up, peeked inside the library, and found it empty and rather ordinary

.

He sighed, “Sheesh… I should really return to sleep.” He glanced down at the cat that yawned sleepily; however, it walked toward the stairs instead. Blythe followed for unspecified reasons. He simply had the urge to follow the cat unconditionally, so he did.

Once down the stairs, he heard the howl again, seemingly coming from the kitchen. A sense of thirst washed over him. From inside the meeting hall, he heard whimpering, and from the stairs into the basement, he heard sounds of a train. Where shall he go? Tell me, dear audience.

****Audience Input*****

Presea Diamond: Basement!

Presea Diamond: Also who wouldn’t folow a cat

Leona Lucifra: I say meeting hall for now!

Rapu Riverstone: Obviously he shouldn’t go to either place if he has any sense left

Silas Amaren: I guess the basement seems like fun

**********

He raised his eyebrow, pondered for a minute, and then firmly placed a foot on the staircase leading down into the basement. In this case, it was the cat following him. They descended, finding themselves in a short hallway with rooms on either side, leading to several utility rooms and a secret tunnel connecting his castle to the city administration building. He followed the sound of the train, which was coming from the secret tunnel accessed through the laundry room.

He pressed a brick in, pulled on the water tub, and the wall swung open. However, something was wrong; the tunnel was different. Normally, it was a single tunnel leading straight to the city administration building, but not this one. This tunnel constantly split off, forming a maze in which Blythe found himself lost for hours. Fortunately for him, the sound of trains and a cat led him to the exit, and where he exited surprised him even more.

He was on a sloped pathway leading down into the mines, with 2 rail tracks lining the way. Trolleys swooshed by at high speeds, and in one, he saw a group of dwarves yelling and shouting, “ROCK AND STONE” and “WE’LL BE RICH.” As the next trolley approached, before he had a chance to step aside, he was suddenly grabbed by the collar and thrown inside.

“HOHO! Who’s this now?” said a dwarf with a thick long beard and a pickaxe on his shoulder.

“I don’t know, brother, but he’s quite tall!” said another dwarf with a thick long beard and also a pickaxe on his shoulder.

“He’s not one of us, but look at the kitty!” exclaimed the third dwarf, who looked pretty much identical to the other two.

The 3 dwarves continued to be noisy and play with the cat until the trolley suddenly slammed against something, sending them flying out of it and into a net that caught them mid-fall. As they got out of the net, the dwarves shouted strange things once again and ran off into the tunnels. Blythe, confused by how he ended up in the dwarven tunnels, faced a decision: Should he follow them into the tunnels? Seek a supervisor? Try to hitch a ride back up? Or accept his fate, grab a pickaxe, and rock and stone to the bone?

****Audience Input*****

Presea Diamond: I would follow

Atheris Hispida: Knowing those dwarves, they’re heading straight to danger. So why not follow?

Vodil Calmacil: Rock and Stone, duh. But also where did cat go??? is it safe

Leona Lucifra: I say either look for a supervisor or try to get back up, though that sounds like a recipe for getting lost.

**********

Blythe gasped as he turned around to see a cat with a tiny pickaxe attached to a strap on its back and a fake beard on its face. “Where… ah, whatever,” he thought to himself as he rushed after the cat that headed into the tunnels, following the dwarves. It did not take long to catch up to the three that had abducted them. They worked hard and mined even harder. Collecting ores and filling their sacks, the long day of mining was finally over. Blythe learned a lot that day and followed the dwarves out.

The exhausted group of 5, a duke of Ferula, his companion the cat dwarf, the black cat that is not a dwarf, and the three dwarves that randomly abducted them, sat in the resting room. The dwarves poured mead, but Blythe only desired a refreshing cup of water. He went to the cooling box, grabbed a cool glass pitcher, poured himself a cold cup of water, and chugged it all in one go. He savored every drop. It was as refreshing as he had hoped it to be.

The cool water sent refreshing, rejuvenating shudders through his body. He put the cup down and let out a sigh of relief; this was all he had desired. He glanced around his kitchen and down at the floor when the cat pushed its bowl toward him, asking for water too.

This was the most memorable water in his life. He had survived a volcano, a trip around the world on balloons, a night of mining, and a night so cold he thought he’d die. This was Ferula Blau! The purest water one could buy. Ferula Blau: don’t let your thirst drive you mad. Jane turned off the TV and sighed, “Man… ads these days sure are wild, huh?” She shook her head.

I hope this was a pleasant commercial break in your lives.