EXPEDITION: An Unmatched Fanfiction

Chapter Eleven: The Game Is Afoot

King Arthur ran out of Dr. Jekyll's gloomy house into the dark streets of London. Just as it acted through the window of his room, the moon did little to illuminate the bleak pathways of the city. Arthur noticed as he exited the house that most of the brightness in the sky came from lantern-like objects suspended in the air by tall, metal poles. He had not seen such structures before and was momentarily struck by their mechanics. He wondered how it was possible for the candles to stay lit without someone climbing up the poles and relighting them every couple of hours. As he pondered the inner workings of these lights, though, he was quickly taken back to his current situation. He thought of how strange these new technologies he was witnessing were, which reminded him of the grim reality he stood in: he had no clue where he was and no one reliable to trust in this odd form of England.

"How am I to find my way to the source if I have no direction?" Arthur frantically deliberated, skimming his surroundings to see which way would be best to travel (and which way would bring him farthest from the haunting events that transpired in Dr. Jekyll's home). "Ah!" He rapidly went through his sparse belongings and found Merlin's compass. Arthur held it high in the air, using the street lights in order to discern the needle's direction.

With no other options, King Arthur decided to follow the compass's lead. He figured he had no other choice if he wanted to complete this mad journey, and if Merlin imbued the compass with magic meant to guide Arthur towards victory, he believed it possible that following it could lead to the England he knew and love.

Arthur began to walk intrepidly. Despite his outward appearance of courage, he was still incredibly wary of his surroundings. The streets and buildings towering over him like shadowy monoliths were foreign, and if people like Mr. Hyde were common figures in this land, he knew he needed to be on his guard.

King Arthur trekked down many streets. His feet experienced the textures of multiple kinds of cobble and stone. Each step he took was rough, but he was determined. The streets were winding, making sharp lefts and rights to accommodate the placements of the buildings enveloping his vision. He felt that every time he was on good pace at following the compass's direction, he came to another dead end and had to backtrack in unfamiliar territory. It was like being stuck in an unending labyrinth, where he was cursed to wander this peculiar dimension forever.

He felt he would never return to being the King of England again. He was so concerned with his own aspirations of adventure that he did not stay back to defend his own land when he knew danger was imminent. "But no," Arthur thought to himself, "if I had not left, the danger would have been unending for my land. That is what Merlin foretold." Still, he had a nagging voice in his head. He knew that he would have taken any chance to slay foul demons and beasts again. "No, I always did it for the good of my country. I am a loyal servant to England."

"Quit that chattering!"

Arthur turned around in confusion, trying to find the man who spoke to him so. However, he only found another building high above him and an alleyway with a large mountain of garbage. "Who speaks to me with such resolution?"

"Quiet down, will you?" Suddenly, an arm came from behind the mound of garbage and pulled King Arthur towards it. Arthur was too shocked to react in time, and before he knew it, he was behind the garbage next to an unknown man. The man had carved a little section of the garbage so he could peer at one of the buildings across the street. Arthur looked at the man and saw that he wore fancy attire similar to many of the other men he had seen in this version of London, although he carried an air of knowledge that few men have.

"What purpose have you jostling me around?" King Arthur questioned.

"Hush now," the man retorted. "I am currently working on an investigation, and you were going to expose me."

Arthur leaned in to see what the man was looking at through the trash hole. The hole gave them a perfect view of the doorway on another building. Just as he began to look, he saw a hooded man approaching the door. Another man opened it up, and they exchanged some hushed words before they both entered the building.

"Do you know this man?" Arthur whispered.

"No, my client does," the man answered, then turned to Arthur, staring him up and down for a brief few seconds. "I found exactly what I need here tonight through that scene, and though I would love to divulge to you my reasoning for such, I cannot share my secrets with strangers such as yourself, King Arthur."

Arthur's eyes widened in shock. "How did you know my name, I have not told it to you yet?"

The man chortled, pulling out a pipe from the pocket of his inverness cape. "Oh, my name is Sherlock Holmes. I am a private investigator, you see. I have to know how to be acutely observant of everything around me, or I would not be a very good detective."

"No one knows who I am in this strange land. You call it London, but I do not see it as such, so how does thou know me?"

"Well, that is quite an elementary observation. Certainly not a solid line of thinking if one were to make proper inferences."

"What?"

"I am saying the way I know who you are, King Arthur, is quiet simple. Let me explain." He took a long drag of his pipe, taking another chance to examine the king. "Your clothing is a major clue which tells me you are not from this land. These patterns are not of a fashion anything less than a few hundred years ago. This could tell me that you are of a wealthier class that can afford such antique trappings, or a visitor from another country better yet, but the bags under your eyes and disheveled hair around your mouth tells me otherwise. However, you also carry that sword on your waist. From the chimeras sculpted on the guard, I can deduce it is some sort of Excalibur replica. Replicas that detailed, though, are not carried in public, or appear that worn. I can compare this to the strange smoky sightings happening around the country, producing many strange men and creatures from sea to sea from them, and it would be no stretch for me to say you are the real King Arthur."

King Arthur stood in silence for a couple of stunned seconds. "I am amazed by your observational skill."

"All part of my job. Now, my question is what are you doing in the 1800s."

"1800s? As in the year?" King Arthur's world began to spin again. "What are these supernatural forces at play which taunt me so?"

"Knowing your lore, you are certainly not the type to create such havoc this way, which only means you are here in some way to stop it."

These words centered King Arthur and brought his mind back to the reason why he was wandering these streets. "There is an evil I must destroy, and I cannot let time wither away with a man I know not if I can trust."

"I do not know what seemingly strange phenomena you may have crossed since you arrived here, but this world is not like your own. Seven hundred years changes the world dramatically, and you do not know the nuances of this London. You cannot go at this alone." King Arthur was left speechless again. "Here, let me bring you to my office. I am just down Baker Street here."