[Nano novel] Chapter two: The midget and the magician.

When he awoke, he was lying in a grassy circle, surrounded by trees, and pale early morning light streamed down around him.  His first thought was that he had somehow fainted and slept out in the woods all night.  He sat up and rubbed his eyes, feeling rather foolish.  Who falls asleep in the middle of the woods when his bed is so near?  He was surprised that nobody had gone looking for him, but the more he thought about it, he realized that he had no close friends around to wonder where he was.

How disappointing that he had fallen asleep rather than find out what the rainbow was doing there, or for that matter, why that stone had gotten hot and started glowing.  The thought of walking back out of the wood as if it had never happened made him strangely sad.

After several minutes, he sighed and resigned himself to normalcy once again.  He stood up, stretched a bit, and set off in the direction of the college campus.  The air seemed to smell different than usual, but he assumed that was because he wasn't normally out this early in the morning, and wouldn't have noticed it before now.  The smell, which he could only categorize as being slightly sweet, grew stronger and more cloying the closer he got to the edge of the trees.

As he stepped out past the edge of the tree wall, he nearly walked into a very short, half-bald man.  Shocked, he began to stammer out an apology.  "I - pardon me, I'm so -"  and then he began to notice his surroundings.  The midget stared at him a moment, angrily, then stalked off muttering, long hair on the right side of his head waving oddly in the slight breeze. 

Where the college had been - was supposed to be - was a collection of low tents, made of leather pieces stitched together and hung over wooden poles.  Several small fires were smoking near the entrances of some of the tents, and the strange midget was now crouching over one at the closest tent, stirring a metal pot with a long-handled wooden spoon.  Other people, men, who looked to be normally sized like himself, were milling about between the tents, carrying things from one place to another or stopping to talk with each other.  He wasn't at all sure what to do next.  He wasn't even sure where he was, what had happened, or whether or not they would chase him if he turned and ran directly back to the grassy circle.

He stood indecisively and worried that he was dreaming.  Everything felt and looked real - the smell on the breeze, which must be coming from the cooking pots; the men walking around; the feel of the grass under his feet.  He looked up at the sky and saw the sun peeking over the tops of the trees.  It seemed to be the same sun as always, and the birds he could hear twittering up in the branches, in those trees that looked almost the same as what he had seen the day before, were greeting the dawn the way they always did.  Before he could continue to speculate on the actual existence of all the things he thought he was seeing, however, the midget appeared before him again, this time yelling loudly, and grabbed him by the knee.

A tall man loomed up behind him menacingly and he felt the back of his head explode with pain.  And for the second time in his life, he lost consciousness.

...

When he awoke, the sweet smell (now familiar) was very strong and made his stomach turn.  His head was aching, throbbing dully.  He wondered whether it was bleeding, or if he had a concussion.  Maybe he should see the nurse or go to the clinic in town... reality jolted his senses and made his stomach turn again.  Where he was right now was not where he was supposed to be.

He sat up, gingerly, his heart pounding with a mixture of fear, confusion, and curiosity.  He was inside one of the leather tents, on a dirty woven blanket.  He wondered fleetingly why he wasn't tied up, if they (whoever 'they' were) had gone to the trouble of knocking him out.  He felt that he had no frame of reference, no way to find out what was going on or where he was.  There were still men walking around outside the tent, talking to each other.  It was as if nobody was very concerned about him at all.

Suddenly and intensely frustrated, he stood up - and grabbed his head with both hands as the blood pounded forward in his temples painfully.  "OW," he moaned. 

Immediately the piece of cloth hanging over the tent's entrance was pulled aside and the tall man strode in menacingly, towering over him.  Through the throbbing in his head, he realized that nobody was ignoring him, just being quiet about watching him.

"Sit," the tall man said.  There was no arguing with that tone of voice, even if he hadn't been responsible for the painful smack in the head.  He sat carefully, but quickly.

"Who are you? How did you find this place?" the man demanded angrily.  "Tell me now!" 

"My name..." he winced and blinked slowly.  "My name is Taliesin, and... I don't know how I got here.  I don't know where here is."  The tall man looked even more threatening, which hadn't seemed possible.  He made as if to hit him again, but Taliesin flinched and exclaimed, "You have to believe me!  I'm not lying to you!"

"You came from the woods," the tall man growled.  "Nobody comes from those woods.  That place is inhabited by the gods and mystics.  Are you one of them?"

Taliesin's bewilderment was nearly complete.  "I - what?  Gods and mystics?  There was a rainbow, and a stone, but nothing that - "

The tall man backed away then, eyes so wide the whites showed.  He opened his mouth, then shut it, then turned and left as suddenly as he had entered.  Taliesin's head hurt with new and even more confusing information.  Gods and mystics in the woods.  Where on earth was he?  Was he even on earth?  If it wasn't for the fact that he had already fallen asleep (or been knocked unconscious) twice and woken up again, he would have tried to believe he was dreaming. 

He sighed.  Should he get up and leave?  Who else would come in?  Was he safe in this place?  He had read enough books throughout his solitary childhood to know that when you've been swept into a strange world, the best way to get back home is to find out why you were there in the first place.  He had always wished he was living in one of those stories instead of in the life he'd been given, but of course he was smart enough to know that it was just wishful thinking.  Now, faced with a truly confounding thing happening to him, he was just not sure what his next step ought to be.

A commotion was stirring outside the tent now - it sounded like a crowd was forming, all of them beginning to talk at once. 

Taliesin stood up, tired of being the center of a fuss he knew nothing about, and pushed aside the curtain.  All the talking stopped at once, which was not what he expected to have happen.  The tall man was standing at the front of the small crowd, who were all standing as still as a herd of deer in the headlights of a car, and all staring directly at him.  He felt decidedly awkward, but could no longer wait to be told what was going on, and was beginning to doubt that anyone there could explain to him what had happened anyway. 

"You," he said to the tall man, who shrank back ever so slightly.  "Tell me what is going on!"

The tall man cleared his throat, obviously hesitating.  From behind him, the midget reappeared, his odd shock of hair wafting around his shoulders.  He stopped directly in front of Taliesin and looked up at him angrily.  He shouted, "YOU MUST SEE THE MAGICIAN!"  Taliesin sprang back at that, both from being yelled at as much as from surprise. 

"What?!" he said in consternation.  "What are you talking about!  I want to know where I am, and who you are - who all of you are!"

The midget backed away slowly, wearing a menacing look on his face.  "I will not tell you my name," he grunted rudely, "but this camp is by the Serran Wood.  A creature such as yourself, who obviously came from that wood - I found you, don't forget that! - should already know this!"

At this, the crowd of men began muttering to each other and shifting nervously.  None of them said a word to Taliesin, however.

"Who is this magician?" Taliesin asked, desperate for some explanation.

The midget narrowed his eyes at him and looked for a moment as if he would refuse to speak.  "The magician... knows everything.  He understands the nature of those that live in the Wood.  He will know what your purpose is - if you have a purpose," he said mockingly.  "You will go to him at once."  He turned on his heel then, and stalked off, his hair floating behind him.

Taliesin was not sure what to make of the midget or his words, but he was getting an idea that he was the one who was really in charge of this camp.  He looked at the tall man again, who was still standing in the front of the group.  They all looked so wary of him, almost as if he made them afraid in some way. 

"Very well," he said to the tall man.  "Tell me your name."

"I am called Andrew," the tall man said quietly.  "We do as the small one commands.  He does the magician's bidding."

"So... so you are all here because of the magician?"  Taliesin asked.  A small realization dawned on him, which made him feel less confused.  "You're all guarding the Wood, aren't you."

Andrew shifted on his feet, and nodded in reply.  All of his anger from before seemed to have been completely replaced by alert caution.

"Are you afraid of me?" Taliesin asked incredulously.

Rather than answer, Andrew waved the crowd away.  As they dispersed, with many backward glances and whispers to each other, Andrew motioned to Taliesin.  "You will come with me now.  I will take you to the magician."

Something shifted in Taliesin's perception of this strange place, and for the first time since he had awoken in the circle of grass, he felt sure that this was something he was supposed to be doing.  He left the side of the leather tent that had so recently held him captive, and followed Andrew as he turned and walked with long strides out of the camp, away from the Wood. 

Maybe now my adventure will begin.