The Kingdom of Noitcif

Chapter Five - Plausibility Out the Window

  As Tarquin steered his unicorn onto a dirt path, Espen had to duck as dozens of small overgrown branches from the woods slashed right above their heads. The young teen squinted and peered around the messenger's back, but could see no possible path that looked as if it would belong to a kingdom road. In fact, it seemed as if they were heading straight into the middle of nowhere. The tree trunks seemed to cave in on them like steel bars; their leaves blocking out the sunlight almost entirely. More than ever, Espen believed that Tarquin had simply fabricated the theory about this 'Noitcif' kingdom, and he suddenly wished he would have made the 'messenger' give him something as a collateral so his safety would be ensured.

  Espen bit his lip as the unicorn continued to gallop forward, but suddenly, he was aware of a strange humming noise about them.

  "I apologize, Prince Estevan," Tarquin said over the noise, "but the best place to put the portal was right here, for safety's sake."

  "The... what?" came the confused reply.

  But in an instant, his question was answered.

  The air in front of them quivered, and then, a huge tunnel with a multicolored glow around the entrance spun into sight. It seemed made of stone, but appeared so suddenly and strangely that Espen wondered if it was fashioned from air itself. The unicorn galloped inside just as the door spun out of sight, and the tunnel instantly vanished from Meadow Brook.

  Espen had to gasp as strange rainbow lights began flicking about as Verbum – the unicorn – ran swiftly through the rocky tunnel. The lights came slowly at first, but then they began appearing faster and faster, until they were moving no slower than a strobe. He slowly turned his head from the sides of the tunnel to look ahead of him, and what he saw made his eyes widen until he could open them no more. The messenger's fugitive robes were suddenly the garment of a nobleman's. A long, dark purple cloak was wrapped around his body and flew in the wind behind him, and his once dirty hair was now beautifully clean. His hands were clothed in leather riding gloves - the backs plated in metal scales - and his ripped tennis shoes had transformed into tall black riding boots with tiny spurs. But what amazed Espen even more was their destination. At the end of the tunnel, not only was there light, but there was a fortress. A fortress that was undoubtedly a huge, floating castle.

  The freshman's mouth hung agape as Verbum galloped through the stone archway at the end of the tunnel, and stopped, snorting, on the pinnacle of a large grassy cliff. Espen was glad that Tarquin had stopped, for the sight in front of him would take a while to sink in. Not only did the castle remind him of something out of ancient Scotland, but the stone walls were breathtaking in hues of gold, silver, and bronze. Hundreds of multicolored banners flew wildly atop the roofs, while vines and ivy covered a few of the castle turrets, and a large flag with a crest of a sword and a unicorn horn crossed stood proudly at the top of the tallest tower.

  The island that the fortress was placed upon was cone shaped; the point facing downwards. The round portion was the ground where the castle stood. It floated in the air as easily as a kite, yet stayed as stationary as a boulder against a rushing current. As Espen gazed about, he noticed there were many other islands floating in the clouds, but none as large or as grand as the one placed directly before him.

  Suddenly, Espen was aware that Tarquin was no longer riding his unicorn, but rather standing directly beside it, holding the diamond-studded bridle of his steed; the sun glinting off of it, the golden hoop earring that the messenger bore in his left ear, and the trim of the bugle he was raising to his mouth. For a second time, Espen was dumbfounded as he took in his chauffeur's changed appearance. In a matter of seconds, he had gone from being a raggedy peasant to a polished aristocrat.

  "I see you are surprised at seeing what I truly look like," Tarquin chuckled, stroking Verbum's sleek black neck as he spoke. He seemed to have also gotten a bit taller, as well. "Well, let me astound you even more by requesting that you look down at yourself."

  Espen furrowed his eyebrows, and did as the messenger told him. To his shock, he found that he was dressed in an sky blue cloak which reached down to his knees and was cinched at the waist with a golden chain. His legs were covered in a pair of silky, light brown pants, and his feet were clad in tall, dark brown boots. The cloak covered his arms completely, but he could still freely move his hands without the garment getting in the way, and to his amazement, he discovered a small silver ring on his left hand.

  "The Ring of the Princes," Tarquin explained with a smile, before bowing so low his nose nearly touched his knees. "Welcome home, Prince Estevan."

  Home. The word came as a shock to his ears, and for a moment, he was about to start arguing with Tarquin about being a prince all over again. But as Espen gazed out over the floating islands to the huge stone castle beyond, he subconsciously vindicated everything he had accused the messenger of before.

  "If this is home..." Espen finally murmured, "... then why don't I remember it?"

  Tarquin shrugged, and replied, "That is a question not even I can accurately answer."

  Espen's shoulders sank, but before he could start thinking pessimistic thoughts, the messenger reassured him, "But there is one who can. I will take you to him. I am sure that he has much to tell you."

  The freshman had to once again clutch Tarquin's purple robes as he remounted, wheeled Verbum around on the cliff's edge, and went galloping off the way they had come.

  "Where are we going?" the freshman asked after a few moments of running. "I thought we were going towards the castle."

  The messenger gave a soft chuckle, and responded, "We are."

  Just as he said that, Tarquin turned Verbum around again on a dime, gave a hearty whoop, and kicked his steed with his spurs. Espen wrapped his arms around the royal messenger as the unicorn began to pick up speed, faster and faster, racing straight towards the edge of the cliff.

  "Um... Tarquin?" the teenager asked nervously as Verbum showed no signs of stopping.

  But Espen was forced to hold his tongue as the unicorn reached the edge, met his front legs with his back hooves, and propelled off the very pinnacle of the endless slope below.

  The prince's body gave a terrific jolt, colliding with Tarquin, but when he looked up, he saw they were flying. No, the unicorn didn't suddenly grow wings, nor were they suspended in the air by a silver string. They were somehow merely floating through the sky. Espen slowly relaxed as clouds drifted by, and flocks of birds swirled about in the bright blue sky. He loosened his grip on his chauffeur, and simply took in the wonder and grandeur of everything around him. It was like watching a fantasy movie or reading a fiction book, but better. Much better.

  Finally, Verbum's hooves landed upon the cobbled ground of one of the paths surrounding the castle, and the landing was as smooth as if they had stepped out of a trickling stream and onto dry land. Espen took a deep breath, and carefully leaned back so he could view the castle better. As Tarquin reached down to give Verbum a pat on the neck, the prince felt inclined to ask him one simple question.

  "Tarquin?"

  "Mmm hmm?"

  "How was that possible?"

  The messenger turned around to face him, his bright eyes glinting and his mouth pulled into a lopsided smile. "In your world, it is not."