Exile's Return

Storm clouds gathering, thunderheads piling into a darkly vicious fortress on the horizon. Lightning illuminating the bowels of the beasts as they race west across the firmament. Was that a head in the clouds? Were those teeth? Gods, what was that thing grinning down from the sky, smirking at the twinkling lights below? A dull rumble passes through the underbelly of the clouds, followed by a swift silence that is shattered by an enormous CRAAAAAAAAAAACK-

Tomn sat bolt upright in his bed, sweat pouring down his face. The mark on his forehead throbbed with pain (he’d slammed it against the bedhead not one night previously, after waking from the same dream), and his nightclothes stuck to his sweating body. He sat panting, willing his heart rate down, willing that terrible face to leave his memory…

“You had the dream again, didn’t you?”

Tomn’s eyes darted to the shadowed corner of the room, where his friend stood, perhaps a little creepily. He rolled his eyes and then gasped with pain. Even a sarcastic eye roll was painful. “The same. But it’s just a dream”.

Wenddel, Tomn’s friend, slammed his hand against the wall. “It’s not just a dream! You have the sight! We must warn him".

Tomn was indignant, not to mention overtired. He’d not been sleeping properly after all. “But I don’t wannaaaaaaaaa”, he whined.

“Come,” said Wenddel. “We need to see him. How else can we progress the plot?”

The two young boys left their chambers and raced through the castle/keep/military facility/school/generic location where stories such as these take place. They stopped at the bottom of a winding staircase.

“You have to go up there alone”, said Wenddel, almost mournfully.

“But why?” asked Tomn, who as the hero, always asks why.

Wenddel placed a hand on Tomn’s pubescent chest. “Because this is your story”.

And with that dramatically vague/nonsensical explanation, Tomn began to climb.

At the top of the staircase was an office of sorts, full of things indicating the inhabitant was incredibly learned. And he was. For the man who sat behind the large dusty desk was none other than Jessebrindidicanmoebianatarius, the most powerful wizard/scientist/wise person of the age. A sallow man stood at his shoulder.

Jessebrindidicanmoebianatarius spoke: “a little late to be wandering the corridors, isn’t it, young Tomn?”

Tomn had the good nature to look abashed, then realised why he was there. “Wenddel made me do it, sir! He told me to come here, I didn’t want to. It was just a stupid dream”.

The man standing only slightly lecherously behind the J-man leaned forward. “A dream? What dream? Speak, boy, for your father’s sake!”

“Who are you?” Tomn asked rather bluntly, purely for the sake of the narrative.

The sallow man sighed, and flourished his robes. “I am Grinadafalukinteraneabapol, second most powerful wizard/scientist/wise person of the age. It’s obvious, because my name has one less syllable than Jessebrindidicanmoebianatarius’s”.

An awkward silence followed as Tomn counted the syllables. It took longer than one would expect the potential saviour of the world to do maths. He looked up, puzzled.

“There is power in words, young Tomn”, Jessebrindidicanmoebianatarius said, then rolled his eyes behind half-moon spectacles when Tomn continued looking confused. “Literally. There’s literally power in words. The longer a person’s name, the more powerful they are”.

“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh” breathed Tomn. He’ll think ‘I only have a one syllable name, how can I be the saviour of the world?’ only after leaving the office and facing his destiny. It usually works like that.

“The dream, boy! Describe the dream!”

Slowly at first, to build tension, Tomn began to retell his dream of dark clouds and scary faces. He rubbed his forehead to build further emotion into the scene. The two long-syllabled men stared at each other as Tomn completed his tale. It was obvious they knew exactly what the dream meant.

“We must wake the Guardians. Tell them the Exile is returning and to make the barriers solid”, Jessebrindidicanmoebianatarius commanded Grinadafalukinteraneabapolbanius. G-man nodded and left the room swiftly, robes billowing, motes of dust skirling in his wake. “Tomn, we must palaver. Sit with me”. Tomn nodded and sat at the desk, J-man looking over his spectacles into Tomn’s eyes.

“Your dream is a prophecy Tomn. It has foretold a great power which will come to this land once more. Only it’s too soon….we exiled him only three months ago to the lands beyond the sea. For him to have grown in power so quickly, well, it just doesn’t usually happen that way. Generally speaking, a generation or two passes, giving ample time for heroes to die and people to forget the blight which has been removed. Even eleven or twelve years can do the trick, allowing a new hero to grow up and avenge his parents’ deaths. But this, this is most unfortunate.

“Three months ago, a group of Guardians of old were resurrected from legend to deal with this threat, which has known many names – Fran, Sven, Wack, just to name a few – and cast him into the ocean. But it is clear from your dream that he has fed his power, and is even now returning to lay waste to this place. Our worst fears have been realised. He has most likely consumed complex and starchy carbohydrates and offensively cheap bananas to revive himself. It is even possible he has used the native people’s innate ability to stay dry in torrential rain to construct some sort of water-repellent vessel in which to travel across the sea”.

Jessebrindidicanmoebianatarius reached across the table and grasped Tomn’s shoulders, his eyes wide. “The one called Sitiveni comes! And according to your dream, he is hungry. For real food. Red meat cooked to perfection, vegetables that aren’t eggplant, fresh milk, cheese! He wants to consume burritos and kebabs and roast dinners and eggs benedict. And heat. He will bring heat from the east! But it will not last, it will be nothing more than a false spring. Offering people false hope. Like the villain he is”.

“But sir,” Tomn whimpered, “how am I supposed to stop such a monstrosity?” At this, the great J-man laughed a hearty laugh, his breath rattling in his small chest.

“My dear boy, this is not your responsibility! The Guardians are all still alive and well, and will push him back into the sea once more. Your story ends here, I’m happy to say. There will be a battle of blazing magicks, depending on the budget of course, but you will play no part in it. No, Tomn, you will go back to your room and sleep once more. Perhaps you’ll dream of Sitiveni again, perhaps not. But your role as the weird dream guy is now over. We might use you again in a sequel or something, but to be honest, you’re quite the dullard. Now get some sleep. Pip pip”.

That was weird. Sorry. Let me provide some all-important context: when I first left Australia it was joked that I was being exiled. Sophisticated, I know. Seriously though, apart from not dealing with the temperature differences at all well, I had a great time back home. Thanks to all those who took me in, bought me food, lent me vehicles, and let me be a part of their special occasions. You all rock, and on a scale of burritos to eggs benno (eggs benno being the ultimate food, but of course you already knew that), you all come in slightly higher than eggs benno . It’s a compliment. Enjoy warm, with a side of bacon and a refreshing beverage.