The Looking Glass Chronicles Book the Fourth
The
Twilight Fountain Vienna Faux
For what good masks be?
They only conceal the face, not the blood that runs through the veins that rage upon absolute despotism in the
stellar faces. They
cannot hide the eyes, which be the gateway to what lounges beneath the feathers and atop the heath of the human
mind. They are merely but a surreptitious tool. Neither are
they palatable nor uncouth. They replace the person who you once were only to be discovered again, but engulfed by
greed and exculpation.
Things we want the most, but must decide if they're worth fighting for. People we can't live without, but we must let them go.
Please make note that this is not the entire book.
It is only the first five chapters.
Contents Chapter One: Sixteen Chapter Two: The Summoning Chapter Three: Identity vs. Role Confusion Chapter Four: Pick Up the Pieces Chapter Five: Greed
Sixteen Six fifty-nine. The sunlight of late dawn seeped in through the cracks of the blinds and dispersed itself over the wooden floor. Clothes lay lifelessly scattered throughout the room; a thin binder upon a desk consumed by papers supported a paper plate with a half-eaten pizza. A physics textbook, cracked open to thermodynamics, was placed carelessly atop a pile of Xbox magazines and video game cheat code volumes. A Green Day and Devil Wears Prada poster were two of several other band posters, all of which were sloppily taped to the leafy-green walls. The screen of a sleek black iPhone blinked of incoming notifications. This room belonged to a boy of sixteen. Such a boy had chocolate-brown hair, milky-white skin, and eyes the color of emeralds, which were fixed at the alarm clock sitting upon his nightstand. The alarm went off at precisely seven o’clock. Beep, beep, beep, beep. The boy smacked the snooze
button indolently and lifted the azure comforter off himself. He sat at the edge of his bed and blinked idly. Though he awoke thirty minutes earlier than what he had set on his alarm, he could never bring himself to drag his body to the bathroom. He ran his fingers through his tousled hair and sighed in exasperation. Tuesday. Just another Tuesday at the beginning of March. And the day of his AP Physics midterm. Judgment day. If he failed this midterm, he would be denied his right to take the AP exam and lose the AP credit he had worked assiduously for all year. Junior year was eating Marcus O’Connor alive. Life was eating him alive. Twenty minutes later, he was dressed and pouring himself a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios. A woman of forty-six entered the kitchen with a coffee mug and a white lab coat hanging at her arm. “Morning, Mom,” Marcus greeted his mother. He attempted to sound cheerful. “Your father never came home last night,” she informed her son heatedly. “He was probably with that w –” “Do you have a surgery today?” he cut her off. He never could stand the way his mother swore. “Yes. I’ll be home late tonight too. Be good.” “My physics midterm is today.” He expected his mother to wish him luck, but she seemed to be excessively absorbed by her own troubles, both marital as well as workrelated, and slammed the door behind her. “Have a good day to you too…” he watched her drive off the block and into the next street.
He lost his appetite in woe, left the uneaten cereal bowl on the counter, swung his bag over his shoulder, and left the house with his hands dug deep into his jean pockets. The O’Connor “family” had been through quite a shockwave. In December, Marcus’ mother had discovered that Mr. O’Connor had been unfaithful to her; he had been seeing another woman for four years. In addition, he had been supplying money for that woman’s daughter’s medical school as well as having a child with her. Of course, this news devastated his wife and children. Elizabeth, Marcus’ sister, drove all the way from college to comfort her distressed mother and tell off her scoundrel father, which resulted in her missing a few weeks of coursework as well as a lower GPA. His mother was in the middle of a divorce with his father and the two were so far unsuccessful with arriving at agreed terms; they had been at it for months. Marcus’ academic livelihood declined severely due to the situation. He was now receiving below average to mediocre grades and was also under academic probation by his teachers and guidance counselor. These events piled upon his shoulders and drove him to the edge his sanity. He was pretty sure he was depressed, but did not want to give his mother any other terrible news. His hostile temperament during the past few months led many of his friends to leave his side. Katie Nelson, his “best friend” of eight years, was now a complete stranger towards him. He rarely ever saw her anymore, and when he did, she was always concerned about schoolwork and her report card average. She scarcely paid heed to the silence of her friend between her rants about exams, his dark circles beneath his eyes nearly every day, or even the fact that he existed at all. “Hey, dude, can I borrow your physics notes? I totally forgot about the midterm!” A Korean boy with an anxious expression appeared before Marcus when he had arrived
at school. He flipped his straight dark hair out of his navy contact lenses. “We have half an hour…” he told him. Jonghyun Choi was one of Marcus’ good friends throughout the course of high school. He and Jong had survived the heaps of work given to them year after year by purely depending on one another. “I know, that’s why I’m asking you now, moron,” he replied jokingly. Marcus grinned and handed his friend a study guide he had made the night before. “You’re the man,” he snatched the sheets out of Marcus’ hand and scanned the formulas and laws hungrily. When the bell sang for first period, the two darted to the classroom and began the exam immediately. “I hope you all studied,” Mr. Ferguson eyed the class ten minutes into the period. Without warning, a loud blow erupted from the classroom door. Marcus jolted in his seat in shock. He surveyed the classroom to see what was going on. Nobody else shifted. Everyone’s eyes were locked on their exam papers, a few straying away to others. However, nobody seemed to have heard the noise. “Marcus, do you have a question?” Mr. Ferguson queried. “No,” he responded. “Then keep your eyes on your own paper, or I’ll have to assume the worst and give you a zero,” he threatened. Marcus nodded and gave his teacher a weak smile. He returned to his exam, but a series of thumps resonated throughout the room. Again, Marcus inspected the classroom, only to find a pair of great golden eyes staring straight at him from the window of the classroom door.
The Summoning
He stared back at the eyes for a few moments, blinked, and returned to concentrating on his exam. Terrific, I’m going totally schizo too, he thought to himself, I’m so messed up. He peered over the head of the student in front of him once again to see if the eyes were still there and sure enough, they were. What the hell… someone tell this bitch to go away. “Mr. Ferguson?” he asked aloud. His teacher looked up from grading papers. “Yes?” “Can I go to the bathroom?” “It’s first period and this is a midterm,” he replied, vexed by the nerve of this boy. In the middle of a test! “Sorry, I didn’t get to go before.”
“I’m not giving you extra time if you come back late.” “I know, I’ll be back quickly.” “Cover your answers.” Marcus grabbed the bathroom pass off the hook on the wall and exited the room. He searched the empty hallway for any sign of the eyes, and the creature they belonged to, but he was unsuccessful. He turned to go back inside the classroom, but something pulled at the foot of his jeans. He looked down only see an elf at his leg. “…Hi,” he said reluctantly. “Hello,” the elf greeted him warmly. Its withered skin cracked as a wide smile broke out upon its silvery face. “Can I help you…?” What the hell is this, Marcus thought to himself. “You are Marco, yes? King Marco VIII of Thales?” Marcus was slightly taken aback by the elf’s address. “I used to be. I left that behind four years ago though…” “Then you still are, Sire,” said the elf. “I am Keanan, Sire; Keanan of Thales.” Marcus became on edge at once. It wasn’t enough that this elf was just that – an elf – but it was from Thales too. He had not heard of that land since he had defeated Alexius. He had not even thought about that place for three years…. He shoved Keanan aside from the door and looked frantically around the hallway to see if anyone was there. He turned his attention back to the elf. “You know, this is kind of a bad time. I saved Thales. It’s fine now. It’s been fine for four years. I’m trying to stop depending on that place to make me happy. I was okay until now!” he hissed through his gritted teeth. “I know, Sire, but I have terrifying news.”
“Listen to me,” Marcus cleared his throat. “Does anyone else know I’m here? How did you find out where I go when I’m not in Thales?” “That is unimportant, Sire. You must allow me to explain –” “No!” he exclaimed. “I am normal now, okay? I can’t keep pretending to be someone I’m not. I’m done with that place. Whatever problems you guys have…they’re just…they’re not my problems anymore! You people – creatures, whatever the hell you are – have caused me enough damage. I don’t need more problems right now. I’m in the middle of taking a test. It’s very important that I do well on it, okay? Go solve your own problems.” Unknowingly, Marcus had attracted the attention of a few students who were cutting class. These students were unable to see the elf Marcus was scolding. They stared. “What are you looking at?!” Marcus waved his arms around wildly in annoyance. They snickered and disappeared at the corner of the hall. He turned to the elf. “Can I just go by one day of my life without being labeled as clinically insane?” “I know what you mean, Sire, but please listen!” the elf insisted. “Fine. I’m listening, but don’t assume that I’m going to give a damn and help, okay?” he said. The elf began explaining what was occurring at Thales at the very moment. He informed Marco about two hundred mysterious disappearances of villagers from random towns of the kingdom. “What is left of the bodies are ashes. It is as if the villagers were burned to crisp, but there is no evidence of fires in any town.” “Do you know what caused this?” “No, Sire.”
“Stop calling me that!” Marcus blurted out.
“My time here is running out, Sire. I will return tomorrow to hear of your decision.” Keanan stepped back and vanished into the walls. “I’m not going back!” he screamed at the wall. He had just spent ten minutes to go “the bathroom;” groaning in irritation, he returned to finish the exam.
Identity vs. Role Confusion
The lingering hours of the school day were uneventful, yet still lengthy and tedious. Though many greeted Marcus in the hallway between classes, nobody bothered to make plans with him during non-school hours. At precisely two o’clock, the upperclassmen [juniors and seniors] were dismissed from school and set free for the remainder of the day. Marcus usually found Jong at the swing set in the park after school. His legs no longer dangled freely from the wrath of gravity like they did just three years before. A cigarette was slipped between his lips, the charred remains of the tobacco rod drifting away in the breeze. His Nikes booted up playground dust from the crater dug by the sneakers of other children. His eyes were fixed on the screen of his cell phone while his
fingers danced frenziedly upon the QWERTY keyboard. Marcus seated himself on the swing beside Jong. Almost immediately, the stench of smoke filled his nostrils. “Dude, have some respect. Kids play here,” Marcus eyed the cigarette in vexation. Jong looked up from texting and slipped the phone into his bag. “Hey, how’d the midterm go for you? You were gone for a while. Ferguson looked pissed.” “I was nervous, so I took a break,” Marcus lied through his teeth. He had not told Jong of Thales or what fantastic adventures he had experienced while there. “You look like a train wreck,” Jong told him candidly. “No offense.” Marcus raised his eyebrows in confession and replied dryly, “I know.” “You’ve looked like shit this entire year.” “It’s just the stress.” Marcus also had not bothered to mention to Jong that he was having issues at home. “So how do you think you did?” “It was alright.” “What’d you get for the question about –” “Dude, shut up. Just for a few seconds. I can’t deal with this right now.” Jong could not tolerate it any longer. “I’ve put up with your bullshit this entire year, you know?” “What?” “You’re alone. Nobody’s here for you, man. Open your eyes. I’m here because I give a damn, and I love you, dude, so that’s why I’m saying this – you gotta pull yourself together and get your average up. Give more of a crap about school.”
“There are more important things to worry about right now for me than my GPA.” “It’s junior year. Wake up! Get with the program!” “You don’t know the shit I’ve been through. You don’t anything. If you did, then you wouldn’t be saying stuff like that,” Marcus retaliated. Jong chuckled and took a drag of his cigarette. “Yeah, just smoke your lungs out until you get cancer and then go tell your fucked up friend to wake up.” “Hey!” Jong flared. “You know why I smoke? ‘Cause I've got troubles too. I got my parents always on my ass about something. I got a brother going to Princeton and a sister graduating Berkeley this year. I have to be more traditional, more respectful, and it’s driving me up a wall, alright?” “I have so much shit happening right now, I feel like dying every day. Have you ever felt like that?!” Marcus blurted out. “Yeah, man, I have! I feel like shit everyday; don’t think I don’t! I have issues too. I’m not saying you don’t. We all do. The planets don’t revolve around you! You gotta stop living up there!” He motioned to Marcus’ head. “You gotta start living out here.” Marcus got up from the swing and began walking home. “In the real world, nobody gives a damn about your personal problems. I know it’s ugly, but it’s what it is. I’m giving it to you straight. You got one decision to make – either make progress or make excuses.” “Says the smoking Asian!” Marcus exclaimed, continuing to part himself from the swing set.
“Bro, I may die young, but I’m definitely not dying here in this shithole of a town.” Still quite enraged, Marcus quickened his pace. Make progress or make excuses? Ha, don’t make me laugh.
Pick Up the Pieces When Marcus arrived at home, he slammed the door behind him angrily and realized that his clothes had captured the odor of smoke. “Asshole,” he muttered and dusted off the remnants of Jong’s cigarette. He stormed into his bedroom and began showering himself with a can of Axe. A post-it was stuck to the face of his mirror.
Take out the trash. Do homework. Dinner’s in the microwave.
Don’t even think about ordering pizza. - Mom
“I know, Mom,” he mumbled, seizing the note and dropping it in his trash bin. Sprinting down the stairs to the kitchen, he tied and heaved the garbage bag to the garbage can located at the side of the house. Suddenly, soft giggling broke out from the backyard. Marcus froze and narrowed his eyebrows in caution, vigilantly approaching the origin of the clamor. He began perspiring icicles as the giggling became honeyed laughter. Without warning, a mass of water erupted from the midsection of the pool and stood erect upon the surface and shaped itself into…a woman…a beautiful young girl, with a pallid face and lips the color of cherries. Her skin bloomed into an enrapturing pearl color; her eyes blossomed into flawless emeralds. The leaves and flowers upon the surface of the water cloaked themselves upon her skin, guising themselves into a grand evening gown. “You freaks from Thales!” Marcus roared, flailing his arms ferociously in the air. “Leave me alone!” The woman had hair the color of the sun, which curtained one of her eyes. Butterflies escaped from her locks. Her rosy lips curled into a sensuous smile, her flawless teeth gleaming to match the twinkle of her eyes. She removed the hair from her face and bit her lip provocatively, raising her eyebrows in utmost curiosity. “Hello, King Marco,” she spoke, her voice serenading the echoes of angels. “I’ve made up my mind, damn it!” he exclaimed. “You elves and dryads or
whatever must learn how to resolve your own issues. I have enough on my plate. I thought the elf told you that!” She frowned. “I am a nymph,” she corrected him in the most displeased of tones. “Does this face look like I care?” He pointed at his scowling expression. He turned his back on the nymph and began returning to the house. “Do you know of the recent disappearances?” she inquired. Marcus rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I do, and I obviously don’t have the right mindset to deal with any of it.” “You have become heartless.” “HA!” he scoffed in reply. “Heartless.” She narrowed her eyebrows crossly and fired water from her palm, soaking the back of Marcus’ head. He halted in his tracks and swung around. “HEY! What was that for?!” “Your idiocy.” “Look, lady,” he advanced toward the nymph in rage. “I did enough for Thales. I’m done. Get the hell out of this realm and don’t come back. Ever.” He turned around once more to begin towards the back door. “Life is complicated now, isn’t it?” He paused, both in step and speech. He spoke. “Yeah.” “Run away for a while.” “Yes, and face more problems.” “Leave this primitive way of life with these bestial mortals.”
“I’m good, thanks.” “One cannot fathom the imprisonment of certainty unless one is charmed by the liberty of choice.” He eyed this nymph situated angelically upon the surface of the water. “If I take care of this, do you creatures promise not to bother me again?” “That promise is not mine to make, but fate’s,” she responded with a petite grin. After a few moments of internal consideration, he ultimately agreed to return to the cursed land. “Can I bring a friend?” “Is your friend noble?” He nodded. “She’s the very best.”
Greed The door of the Nelson residence swung open. A sixteen-going-on-seventeenyear-old girl with medium-cut golden hair up to her chest, large pacific-blue eyes the size of silver dollars, and an awkward grin stood rooted at the spot with an extra-large boys’ white V-neck tee, red and white plaid pajamas, and a cup of chocolate Haagen-Dazs. “Hi,” she greeted him reluctantly. “Hey, Katie,” he uttered her name, his voice quivering in the tension. Nothing. They did not speak, simply locked their stares upon each other. She had not spoken to him in months; conversely, he had not appeared at her door in months. “Anyway,” he broke the silence, “Can I come in?” “I don’t think so,” she responded hastily.
“…Okay…” his eyes swayed from her to the state of her house – which did not seem like her house any longer. A few boxes were piled into corners, a number of electric appliances were unplugged from their sockets. Her coffee table held an open box, which looked like it was in the middle of being packed. “Where are you going…?” he eyed the boxes behind her in surprise. She did not bother to meet his eyes as he returned his attention to her. She bit her bottom lip apprehensively. “You weren’t supposed to know… not yet, anyway.” “Are you kidding me?” he responded furiously. “Then when the hell was I supposed to know? The day of?” “No, no, nobody was supposed to know until after AP exams. That’s when we were planning to get out of here.” He eyeballed her in pure disbelief. “Oh God, don’t look at me like that. We both knew this was going to happen one day.” “Yeah,” he scoffed, “I knew it was going to happen, but not until senior year. Where are you going?!” “We’re moving to Ithaca,” she replied quietly. “Where the hell is that?” he burst out in shock. “Near Cornell University in New York.” “Why are you moving near Cornell?!” “I applied…” “What? When? How? You’re not supposed to apply to colleges until next year!” “I know, but I have enough credits to graduate early. I’m taking super hard classes
and everything. I have a perfect GPA with all that I’m doing. I’m graduating his year, Marcus. I’m leaving. I applied and got into Cornell by early decision.” “That’s not fair…” “Wow!” she exclaimed sarcastically. “You’re so selfish. You show your face on my doorstep for the first time this entire year. You don’t bother hanging out with me until you need something. You probably need help on homework, right? That’s probably it, right? You’re incapable of being happy for me.” “No, I just –” “I’m sick of people using me all the time!” “I’m not using you, I need your help with something non-academic. Can you do that?” “No!” She began to slam the door on his face when he responded hastily, “It’s about Thales!” She paused. “Thales?” Her eyes flashed in concern. “I haven’t heard from that place in years…what could they want?” “You’re not going to believe it.” After moments of studying the pleading expression upon Marcus’s face, she finally decided that it was genuine enough for her to reply, “Let me get dressed.”
~
“Tell me why we’re doing this again,” Katie asked when they stepped out of the portal and into the fantasy-ridden realm they had so desperately attempted to avoid for four tedious years.
Rolling hills and cascading mountains devoured the landscape, just as they did before. Beams of light from villages from afar severed the natural spectacles before their eyes. Seemingly, nothing had changed. “People are disappearing off the face of the realm,” he replied. “So what do we have to do?” “I don’t really know. After we spend some time catching up in the castle, they’re probably going to ask me to go on one of those wretched journeys,” Marcus answered bitterly. "I'm only doing this because I don't want you blowing up the world. If you do something stupid, then I fear to think about what would happen afterwards. The status of your personal satisfaction doesn't concern me. We do whatever they want us to do and then we go home." "Katie..." "No!" she spewed flames. "You have the audacity to not speak to me for a year and now you come back and pretend everything's goody-goody? You've got some balls!" "We're here, Katie! You chose to come this time!" "I told you that it wasn't because of you." Marcus was rooted at the spot. "I wasn't deliberately not talking to you! I didn't want to annoy you or anything! You were always studying! My neglect wasn't intentional!" "Yes! I had work! I'm always studying! I'm always working my hardest, but I needed a break from my damn parents for once! I haven't had an ounce - an ounce - of
interaction with anyone! My parents intended for me to study my ass off and get into a good college! That was their definition of happiness! And now here I am! Here I fucking am! But you know what, Marcus? I wasn't happy! I'm not happy! Our intentions always always - vastly differentiate from the actual event!" she scolded furiously. Marcus' heart dropped. "If you had just told me –" "You were my best friend. I thought I didn't need to tell you anything. Obviously, I was very, very wrong." She narrowed her eyebrows. "Let's get one more thing straightened out. Not only did I come to prevent you from doing something retarded, but I came out of pure empathy, and none of that empathy is for you. I'm not doing this for you." She approached him. "You know, there were times throughout the year when I thought that you weren't a complete dick. Now that I look back, I must've been desperate, and I mean really desperate." "Dude, I apologize for anything I might've done to hurt you -" "Stop!" she snapped. "Just stop." She grit her teeth, nostrils flared, eyes blazing in rage, piercing into his remorseful expression. She closed her eyes, inhaled, exhaled, ran her hands over her weary face and directed her attention at the looming fortress before them. The castle remained undisturbed, as if confined within the very ices of still time. On the outside, the castle was presented like any other medieval-built fortress. The grimy stonewalls enclosed many magnificent halls and chambers, one of them being the royal hall, which was brilliantly lit, as always; vibrant colors were prominently showcased in all directions. Long windows that curved slightly at the top kissed the ceilings. Dazzling golden-coated interior stonewalls stood as barriers of invasion, and frosted glass acted as
the floor. The ceiling was that of the Sistine Chapel, though its concepts paraded astonishing parties, wars, and victories. The almighty throne was placed ever so valiantly at the very center of the commotion. Marcus and Katie had their eyes fixed on the elegantly depicted scenes above their heads. “He has returned! Marco has returned!” a booming, yet jolly voice erupted from the entrance to the corridor at the far end of the room. A stout middle-aged man with wild whiskers, a pressed nose, cherry cheeks, and wild eyes approached them in glee. “Sootas!” Marcus threw the man an edgy smile. The man bowed in respect and motioned to kiss Katie’s hand, but she pulled away awkwardly. “There have been nine disappearances this week alone,” he informed them earnestly. His thick Scottish startled Katie, who had not met him before this moment. As you might recall, she did not accompany Marcus on his last escapade. “Look, I like being here. You know that. But just tell us what we have to do. Just skip all the fancy party stuff and give it to us straight.” “Of course, but before we begin anything at all, I must know to whom this lovely lass belongs to!” he eyed Katie curiously. “She’s a friend of mine. She helped me defeat Alexius four years ago.” "Not really a friend..." she interjected crossly. "More of an acquaintance." “Oh, is that so? Well, the pleasure is mine,” he bowed once again and faced Marcus at attention. “This is a plague. It cannot be cured. Everything has been done. We have used all of our available herbal resources.” “Can’t we use the Stones of Torvaak again?”
“No,” Sootas replied. “The Keystone, please, Sire.” Marcus handed the advisor the amulet. Sootas placed the crafted jewels upon a groove etched into the throne’s handle. Almost instantly, the ground below them began to shift. Marcus and Katie thought that the level had collapsed, and panicked. However, when they looked downward, the frosted glass floor had simply shaped itself into a dark spiral staircase. Marcus caught his breath and inquired, “Where does this go?” He attempted to foresee the destination of the stairs, but was unsuccessful. “A room,” the advisor responded mysteriously and began the journey down into the stairwell. Katie sighed in exasperation and whispered to her "acquaintance" in a sarcastic manner, “Your royal advisor is very clear.” She descended. Marcus let out a small chuckle, replied, “Easy. He knows what he’s doing,” and followed suit.
~
They arrived at a lightless chamber. Each member of the group groped for a wall of some sort to hold on to. As if summoned, a cylindrical stone block ascended and a single sapphire light illuminated the worldly receptacle with an azure hue. A glass vial levitated a few centimeters off the mesa stone face of the cylinder. The vial contained a clear liquid, which seemed to glow a cerulean blue color. “What is it?” Marcus asked, marveling at the gleam radiating outward from the liquid. “Is that water?” Katie examined the contents of the vial.
“It isn’t just water, missy,” Sootas replied. “It is water from the Twilight Fountain.” Katie threw the advisor a perplexed expression. “Don’t you mean the Fountain of Youth?” “No, I am quite certain that it is the Twilight Fountain. They are two separate fountains that serve two separate purposes.” Katie returned her gaze to the vial while Marcus tore his away. “What’s the difference?” “Well…the Fountain of Youth is a spring which restores its drinkers to their youthful stages. The Fountain of Youth is worthless in this realm. It exists. It has been found. However, The Twilight Fountain is able to change something that is worth more than all the years you could ever dream of having.” “And what is that?” “Time,” Sootas declared. “The power of a man to return back in time. Wouldn’t everyone fancy that, eh?” “You can’t toy with time,” Katie interrupted matter-of-factly. “It’s dangerous.” “Of course it is!” Sootas roared. “Everyone would want to go back in time and fix their mistakes, yes? Make life better? Wouldn’t you like that?” “I guess…” Katie agreed. “Maybe I can go back…” Marcus muttered. “I can fix things… I could stop myself from going through the bookshelf that day.” He turned to Katie in excitement. “We could save Jake!” “Ah, see, that is why it is so valuable,” Sootas sighed. “Can either of you think of
a reason on why the Fountain was created? Its original purpose?” “For people to go back in time,” Marcus answered aptly. “No…” Sootas began, “The popular belief is that one drinks from the Twilight Fountain and returns back in time to the twilight before the day of significance. Time turns backward relative to the number of drops consumed by the drinker. Hypothetically...if you decide to journey through your past for the purpose of correcting your mistakes, I can assure you that you will not return to the same state of mind. You will not learn nor have any knowledge of matters that make you the Marco I see in front of me right now. You will have no basis of understanding. If one lived through a life without mistakes, has one lived? If one travelled back in time only to mend relationships, to stop certain words from reaching ears beyond your own, I do not understand how such an individual is able to grow wiser. It is impossible to learn from a mistake you have never made. How can one expect to grow? To mature?" "Then what the hell is the point? Why did they make the Fountain if nobody was supposed to fix their mistakes?" "The Fountain's purpose is to take precautions against a natural event; an event that is beyond any one person's locus of control. Such events are usually storms or plagues. If you travel back in time, you have lost the traits that make you genuine. You have no development of character, no evolution of integrity. You are unnatural. You are plastic.” Marcus was taken aback by this philosophy. Katie nodded in understanding. “It makes sense. You want us to go back in time to find the root cause of the plague and prevent it from ever happening.”
“Precisely,” his eyes gleamed in elation. “So where is the Fountain located? The Golden Cities? The forest?” Marcus asked. “The Fountain is not located in this realm,” Sootas informed them. “It is located in a realm beside Thales. It goes by the name of Pescydia. What you must know about Pescydia is that it is an endless ocean. Very rarely are there spits of land; if you happen to meet an island, steer clear of it, for pirates will most likely inhabit it. The realm is a second Hell for the living. Those who do not suffer from death by order here are thrown into Pescydia. It is a prison.” “Oh, wow,” Katie groaned in reply. She felt quite overwhelmed by the magnitude of information they were required to remember. “The men there are cursed,” the advisor explained. “They search for material gain – the Fountain itself. They seek the Fountain by the light and direction of nonexistent stars. They are selfish, greedy monsters with no regard for others. However, the stars will show once a person with a selfless desire steps into the realm. The last time someone like that came along was King Marco II, who prevented a disastrous tempest from the Seas of the North. He returned with those drops of Fountain water.” He pointed at the levitating vial. “Those drops in particular cannot be used, for they are not sufficient enough for time travel.” “So is there… a map or something we can use to get to it?” Marcus interjected. “Marco II claimed he had a map, but lost it at sea.” “Terrific. How do we get to the Fountain then? We’ll be as lost as the pirates.” “Fear not, for he also spoke of a great emerald star which hovers over the location
of the Fountain. Find that star and you’ll have found the Fountain.�