A universe within a raindrop
A wardrobe, a compass, a letter or perhaps a raindrop. We have all heard talks of how people stumble into fantastical worlds. A chance encounter in our own garden or maybe chosen by a pattern. I fell into my own adventure in a different but no less spectacular way.
I was a young man then. My spirit was not worn down by taxes, the monotony of the nine to five or the slow decay of time. Tall, unspectacular, my limbs were likened mostly to that of a spider. A youthful dreamer, sat on my window ledge watching the world pass me by. That is where this tale begins.
Sat on the ledge in late august, I was watching a storm grow ever close. A distant flash illuminated the red brick work of my neighbour’s houses, packed so tightly in what had once been a farmer’s field. The rumble of thunder echoed through the estate, rolling on endlessly. It was followed by the first droplets of rain that pitter patted against the windowsill, splashing cold against my arm through the open window. The musky smell of summer rain drifted through the warm and stuffy night.
As the storm grew close, I could feel my heart beating. The rush of the storm. Primeval, the same since the dawn of time, where my ancestors must have watched in awe and fear. White, purple and blue flashes danced across my vision, the noise deafening my ears to all else.
The rain continued to fall and the road beneath my window became a running stream. Then there was silence. The eye of the storm approached and with it the most brilliant flash of lightning I had ever seen. A bright flash, verdant green, it leapt from cloud to cloud in a spider web across the dark sky. I stared in shock, the flash imprinted on my eyes. I must have been dazed as the raindrops picked up that bright green and fell to earth like emeralds.
Every stream and puddle began to shine with that bright light, that lingered long after the lightning had vanished.
‘HELP!’ The terrible cry dragged me from my amazement.
I looked through my window, desperate to find where that pained cry had come from but all I could see was the stream of glowing water.
‘HELP!’ The voice screamed again.
Without a second thought I jumped from the ledge and made my way into the storm without my coat. The green glow had faded from the water and the next bolt of lightning was the same typical white.
Outside, I charged through the rain.
‘HELP!’ The deep voice yelled again.
‘HELLO!’ I called, desperate to be heard over the thunder.
‘Help me!’ The voice said.
I ran, homing in on the calling voice. In an alleyway, a figure sat huddled on the floor. The lamplight stretched its vast shadow towards me. The shape did not seem entirely human, but the rain and light distorted all shapes. Indeed, as I approached, the figure seemed to shrink. It reduced so much in size that I may have thought it a child if it wasn’t for its long white hair, that stretched from a yellow cap, and lay limply across the mans face. The creature also had a beard, that was tucked into one of his bright yellow shoes.
‘Hello.’ I said just to shake away my shock. All thought of the storm or the strange green rain had vanished from my mind.
The man grabbed at his right leg, the one minus the beard tuck, which was twisted at a horrible angle.
The man, or thing, turned to regard me. His eyes were like crystals, and they shimmered with a light that was not natural, ‘Ah good fellow.’ The bearded man said, all of the earlier panic now gone from his voice, ‘Thank the lord my cries have been heard. I need help twisting my leg around.’
‘Twisting it round. You need a hospital for something like that.’ I said, sounding much calmer than my beating heart suggested.
‘An infirmary Bah!’ The man said, ‘For this. No no. just a little twist is all that is necessary. I would do it myself but that takes a lot more resolve than I have.’
To my shock I knelt upon the wet ground and took his leg in a firm grip. The green fabric of his trousers was coarse wool. He was soaked through, from his yellow hat, sky blue waistcoat, down to his shoes. He looked frozen and yet his cheeks were flushed like man who had drank too much wine. I thought I must of done too. I expected to wake up any moment clutching a chair leg, for that was how the man’s leg felt.
‘That’s it fellow, give it a twist. Clockwise if you would. The other way and the whole thing might fall off.’
I laughed, thinking he must have been joking but his tone suggested otherwise.
‘On three.’ I deadpanned, ‘One, two, three.’
I jerked his leg clockwise and the fellow gave an almighty scream of pain that overcome the distant thunder. The leg gave a crack, and then to my shock, snapped completely back into place. With a surprising hop, he stood. No more than three foot tall he suddenly jumped upon his injured leg, clearing my head by a metre. When he landed, he gave a grunt and then burst out laughing.
‘Oh it does feel better already.’ He extended a coarse hand towards me, ‘Barley is the name good sir.’
‘I took his hand meekly, ‘Daniel.’ I replied back. I took in his scent, a mix of wildflowers and motor oil, ‘Excuse me sir, if you don’t mind me asking, but what are you?’
He didn’t seem surprised, ‘Don’t have many Figwits this side of the storm huh? No that’s right no Figwits on this planet. That is what the scholars say. We have plenty of humans on our side but no Figwits this side. No centaurs this side. No trolls this side, which I must say is a relief. That is probably why you smell so fresh.’
‘This side?’ I asked inquisitively, ‘What is this side?’
Barley laughed, ‘All science here. The magics gone.’ Barley kicked out with his once wounded leg, ‘This side is the human side. Well its where some of you came after the civil war of course. A place where humans could rule instead of being ruled.’
‘And you came from the other side?’
‘Not my intention good sir.’ He shook his head, ‘You see, I am a respectable fellow. A carpenter and stone mason in old Bredan’s kingdom, Barta rest his soul. Now he’s gone the necromancer has come pillaging and raiding my village. During a mirror storm of all times. No one goes out in a mirror storm. Who knows where it might cast you out. There I was running from a nasty old skeleton when the lightning came, turning all the raindrops into a portal. Then whoosh, I fell straight through a puddle into the clouds and then I was falling with the rain into this quaint street. For anyone but a Figwit that would mean death but we are built for stronger stuff than gravity.’
I will admit at the time I was completely lost and some of this speech I have added from my later studies in the hope that it makes some sense to you. At the time I just stared at Barley and said, ‘You come from the sky?’
‘No.’ Barley looked at me like I was stupid, and in that moment, I felt it, ‘From solid ground just like this. Just from the other side of the mirror storm. It bridges the gap between our worlds. A violent thing. Water becomes a gateway. The universe in a raindrop.’
I looked at a nearby puddle and jumped into it. The water lapped up against my already sodden clothes, ‘Well its not now.’ I said.
‘It’s a puddle.’
‘I though it was a portal.’
The look Barley gave me could have pulled my skin from my bones, ‘Are all humans so dim.’ He said, ‘The mirror storm has moved on. No way of getting back now.’ He looked at my now mud stained trousers, ‘And good thing to my friend or you would have fallen to your death. Well, you would have done if the puddle was deep enough. My village would not have appreciated that.’
‘What will you do then?’
‘Find some hole to line in I suppose. A badger den or something. Build myself a little home for a few hundred years until death takes me.’
‘You seem cheerful about that.’
‘Well what else is there to do. I cannot live amongst you humans. You like to dissect things and I like my body parts where they are. I am too old now to have things removed from me.’ Barley looked around, ‘If you can point me to the nearest woodland, I will find myself a badger’s den to await my death.’
He removed his beard from his shoe, revealing a large sack of gold tied to the end and a pocket watch. To my shock, he left an empty shoe behind and stump of a leg. He checked the time before slipping five gold coins from the pouch before handing them to me. Beard, watch and pouch, returned to the shoe and became a foot.
‘Some gold for your trouble my friend. Your help has been much appreciated. If you would write me your address I shall write to you via pigeon.’
I felt sad for the little creature. To be all alone in a badger’s den, waiting to die. I wanted him to come live with me but that would be impossible. Keeping someone like this a secret would not end well. I also wished to perhaps see this world of Figwits, Centaurs and Necromancer’s.
‘What if we caught up with the storm.’ I said, my eyes going up to the clouds that were now passing over London.
‘Storm catching.’ Barley pondered, ‘The mirror storm does not last long on each world but we may have a chance. What creature do you have that could catch a storm.’ He brightened and he seemed to glow, ‘Well I would fall somewhere over the field of Harva. A few days walk from my home but at least it will be safe. Well good sir, if you do me this favour then I, Barley of the Salar Figwits, will be ever in your service.’
I looked down at the strange fellow and wondered still when I might wake up from this fantastical dream and yet as the night wore on, I found myself walking him to my home. I went inside and fetched my keys while Barley stared, watching the distant storm.
As I came back outside, he turned towards me, ‘So how shall we chase the storm. A centaur? No, you have no centaurs, but a horse would not be quick enough. What about a griffin?’
I pressed the button on my keys and the car’s lights flashed, startling Barley so much he leapt seven feet into the air.
‘I was thinking of driving.’
Barley examined the car, ‘What sort of machine is this? It reminds me of the flying vehicles of the Adar.’
‘It is a car my small friend. Now hop in.’
I opened the door and Barley nimbly jumped inside. I entered also and when my engine roared into life, Barley grinned from ear to ear, literally splitting his face in half.
Through London, in the early hours of the night, I chased the storm. A friend from another world in my passenger’s seat.
London came into view, skyscrapers reflecting the street-lights below, the London eye glittering in the rain.
‘Marvels and amazements.’ Barley barked, ‘Like the great human cites or the mechanical halls of my people. How far you have come. I bet war never touched this place.’
‘We may not have necromancers.’ I replied, ‘But it doesn’t mean that men aren’t evil. Want is in all our hearts.’
We soon reached the M25 and I sped up, the distant storm growing ever close. Barley grabbed the seat tightly as my speeds reached eighty miles per hour and the tyres began to skid in the wet road. We soon gained upon the white flashes of the storm and the heavy rain grew more ferocious.
‘We must get ahead it.’ Barley ordered, ‘And find some stream or river, where my fall will not be so great into my world. Then we can say a proper goodbye my friend.’
I continued through the heavy rain and the great storm. Soon we approached the eye and a flash of green lightning lit up the sky. The rain again carried the green hew of the bolt and the wet road glistened a verdant green. I approached a puddle and as my wheel hit it, it gripped on nothing, only a void. I nearly lost the car, but my speed took us over the portal.
Such a great chase had never been seen in the history of man as I overtook the mirror storm and the lightning returned to normal. A few more miles ahead I pulled off from the road and found a village where a stream ran through. We parked up by the edge of the stream and watched as the mirror storm approached.
‘Will you be okay. With the Necromancer I mean?’ I asked.
‘The Necromancer was cast out of the mages castle and is looking for somewhere to set up his new kingdom. He will ransack our village but will not stay. It is a human kingdom he will seek to sway people to his will.’
Soon the storm caught up with us and began to soak us both. The lightning flashed across the sky, the thunder rumbled, and time came for my farewell with Barley. It seemed he could tell it to. The usual chirpy fellow seemed sad, eyes downcast, the crystals wet with tears.
I knelt down to his height, ‘When I watched the storm this night, I didn’t think I would meet someone as strange and wonderous as you. In fact, I never thought someone like you existed.’ I held out my hand and he took it, ‘But I’m glad we met. Never again will I watch a storm without thinking of my dear friend and his world full of wonders.’
Barley beamed, ‘And you, my friend. I am glad I fell into your street and found someone willing to sacrifice their night to escort a stranger home. We are neighbours across the universe, our houses mirrored in the storm. Glad tidings I take home and maybe a sign of a future union.’
The eye of the storm approached, and I hugged Barley. We both stared into the sky as the great green bold of lightning spread across the sky and the mirror storm opened the bridge between worlds. The emerald raindrops made the stream glow a vibrant and beautiful green.
Barley looked at it and nodded, ‘Farewell my friend.’ He bowed low, ‘Next time the mirror storm comes, perhaps you will come for dinner. My wife would love to meet you.’
Warmth filled me, ‘I will, and I will bring desert.’
Barley looked at the glowing river, ‘Find a puddle by your house and you shall fly right to my door. Though perhaps bring a parachute with you.’ With that he tipped his hat and dived into the river. There was no splash, no ripples. He passed right through it. The green glow brightened, and I thought I caught a glimpse of a village, lit by many candles. A voice called goodbye from the stream and then the vision faded, and Barley’s world was lost.
Saddened, I walked back to my car and made my way back to London. Now I know you are wondering. Did I ever take Barley up on his offer? Did I ever go to this world through the mirror storm, see great kingdoms and fight the necromancer. Well, that is a tale for another day.
Knights of Earth Publications 