The Chronicles of Baxter: Spirit Dawn

Chapter One: Endings and Beginnings

1. Endings and Beginnings

Everybody knew that Baxter Lewis would have adventure in his blood even before he was born. Adventure ran in the family. His great grandparents George and Emily Lewis, were world famous explorers who had spent a lifetime travelling the globe uncovering all kinds of magnificent wonders.

In fact they were directly responsible for the discovery of the fabled 'Lantern of Dreams', thought to grant wishes to whoever happened to possess it; the trouble was that nobody since its unearthing could actually get the thing to work!

But the discovery that really shot the Lewis's up into the dizzying heights of fame and fortunes that came with it was the 'Cave of Endless Echoes', a place where the slightest noise would rapidly become a crescendo of unbearable, ear splitting sound quickly followed by certain death if an exit was not found post haste.

Part of the wealth that these discoveries brought was used to finance the acquisition of the Lewis family residence, an impressive mansion of sprawling proportions, rock-grey in colouration and complete with crenelations and the odd gargoyle or two thrown in for good measure; although quite what two people would want with thirty bedrooms was anybody's guess, but thirty it had.

As equally impressive were the grounds within which this fine building stood. Lush green lawns, trees of differing height, texture, colour and variety, neatly pruned and shaped bushes of all types, through all of which a gravel driveway snaked and meandered its way up to the foot of the rather grand main entrance steps of large, cold stone.

At the bottom of the gently sloping grounds bubbled and rolled a quaint stream, occasionally frequented by ducks, kingfishers and other wildlife passing through from the surrounding countryside. It was an ideal place to find peace and tranquility in life's later years, and an ideal setting within which to raise their young son, William Lewis, Baxter's father.

William George Lewis was an inquisitive child, always finding trouble where one thought it could not be found; in fact, he was the sort of child that could all too easily get into trouble and inconvenience just by sitting in an empty room by himself, an uncanny knack if ever there was one. But it was clear from an early age that young William matched his inquisitive side with one of intelligence, guile and determination, all of which were traits handed down to him from his parents, George and Emily.

It was a rather up and down childhood for William. The 'ups' were the times when his parents were at home, and the 'downs' being the days, weeks, months that they were not. They also meant one thing; Great Aunt Edith.

Great Aunt Edith it was who came to look after William in the absence of his parents and who was a woman so stern that she could straighten out the crook in a wooden walking stick. A woman who had either lost her sense of humour or had had it removed by means of a surgical procedure at some point.

But William knew that the Great Aunt Edith days would not last forever and sure enough the day came when he was whisked away by his parents, to take part in the very adventures he was told about when growing up. This is what William wanted and longed for; to explore the world for himself, to have adventures and to have stories that he too could relate to his own children when the time came.

Adventures came thick and fast for the growing William and the next sixteen years were full of them, some dangerous and others not so. Then, on the eve of his twenty-eighth birthday, William's world of adventure was suddenly and cruelly turned upside down; George, his beloved father, was dead.

William had been there. He had seen everything. He could not do anything. He was heartbroken.

During an expedition in search of the 'Valley of the Five Princes', on a particularly treacherous ascent through mountainous forest terrain, edged by almost sheer drops of unfathomable depths, his father had stumbled, lost his footing and had started plummeting, crashing through the undergrowth, the heavy pack in his back accelerating his fall.