Chronicles

Mirror World

Dressed in a pale grey suit Johnathan stared at his reflection. He raked his fingers through his hair trying to smooth down the unruly mess. He moved closer inspecting his teeth, his own emerald eyes staring back at him. He placed a hand on the store front to get an even closer look, it wasn't every day you got a promotion. That was his last thought as he fell through the window and blackness surrounded him. He screamed but not sound came out as he tumbled into the empty void. He curled into a ball, readying for the impact, and closed his eyes.

But nothing happened, he waited another minute before cracking open one eye to see a vast dessert landscape spanning for miles in every direction. There was nothing in this wasteland but the scorching sun bearing down on his prone form. He was on his knees as he turned around scrambling to find his way back through the hole that had deposited him in this foreign land. There was nothing to be found but more sand. He ran his hand through his hair tugging at a couple of strands to assure himself that this was reality. Blowing out a breath he could do nothing but stare at his surroundings shocked at what had happened.

A cough behind him made him freeze. There had been nothing around him for miles. He slowly turned to discover a hooded figure standing a few feet from him. The figure was dressed in a tan cloak, almost like a mirage that blended intermittently with its background. The hood was so large it masked the figures face in darkness. The figure made no move towards him. Johnathon looked around him to make sure there they were alone and then turned back asking, "What is this place...who are you?"

"Who I am will not help you. This place is Andovia, a peculiar land as you will discover. Trust no one, listen, and you might be alive long enough for the portal to open once more."

"When will the portal open again." He asked moving forward.

"That is for you to decide." With that statement the figure dissolved. He blinked and it was gone. Not a minute later the ground started to reverberate with drums and the pounding of hooves. As he turned to the sound, he saw the maple grain of wood then nothing.

Johnathon woke beside a bright fire. Too bright... he cradled his head, blocking his eyes from the piercing light.

"Sorry Chap, didn't mean to hit you so hard." A voice on his right spoke. Johnathon looked his way to find a young man with blazing red hair that danced with the light of the fire. His tanned skin was marred by a myriad of scars, the largest being on his right shoulder. Three long scars tore through the remnants of a tattoo; the tattoo becoming undiscernible from the mauling. His eye seemed to dance with mischief as a sheepish grin graced his features.

"Why did you hit me." Johnathon asked.

"Can't let ya know our camps' location, can I?" he responded stretching out his bare legs towards the warmth of the fire. "So how'd you escape and where's your brand?" he asked casually. What is he talking about Johnathon wondered, but remembered the figure's sage words.

Johnathan inspected his hands against the glow of the fire, at least they had not changed. He was himself a constant even if thrust into an alternate dimension. For all he knew he could have become a blob or a snake. Grateful as he was for that slight positive it didn't change the fact that this was a different world where he knew no customs, people, or surroundings. He chose his next words carefully.

"Honestly, the last thing I remember is being stranded in the dessert. What's are these brands you speak of?" The young man gaped at him then scratch the back of his head mumbling about a horse's speed making the blow more forceful. The boy exhaled and said.

"Well you remember the war, right? "he asked, Johnathon shook his head.

"Blimey, well woman rose up against men and banished them from the cities. The men fought back in a cruel war that lasted fourteen long years. Millions were killed..." Red's eyes gained a hollow edge to them as he continued. "Finally, a truce was offered to uphold the human race. Once a year select member of each race would meet to consummate... ya know so we don't go extinct. In exchange for women carrying the children, so men were given as offerings, branded into the women's service. This relationship worked for a couple of years, but the women got greedy and started stealing men and illegally branding and hunting them down. Now we live in the forests and desserts far away from the cities and the machines." The boy grew quiet as a state of unease fell over them.

"Machines?" Johnathon said. The boys eye grew wide and his mouth opened. Yet no words fell from his lips. He swallowed and steeled himself.

"The machines are what the women created to combat our strength in battle. The look like overlarge mechanical wolves. They can hunt down the strongest of men and drag them back to the city. They are horribl', they are." The boy neared the fire to gain some semblance of assurance from its warmth. He was just that, Johnathon thought, a boy in a dark world. Johnathon looked past the light of their fire to see small fires spread across the forest clearing as men spoke in low voices.