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Dystopia
War
The Cage of Twileigh
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Co-Writer IceChateau777*
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  • G: General Audiences
  • PG: Parental Guidance Suggested
  • PG-13: Parents Strongly Cautioned
  • R: Restricted
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The Cage of Twileigh
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#5
The Summoning
IceChateau777
Sep 6, 2016
0
0
23
5 Mins Read
No Plagiarism!sNC5FELoRcIohfpXD0ipposted on PENANA
Overcast skies hovered above Emerson's sleeping face. Every now and then, he turned over to the side, constantly avoiding the bright sun. Casts of shadows protruded from the window, making his slumber rigid, boring, and stagnated. Dragons, hovercrafts, and sky boats hovered over the tower. He tried going to sleep, but something was on his mind. As the boy continued his slumber, he heard someone call his name. 
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"Sir Emmett!" From the thickly accented dialect and the screechy voice, there was no doubt; his mother requested his presence. He was too immersed in his dreams to take notice. But in his head started a long, tiresome battle.
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"Emmett!" Emerson could see the entity in question: Prydwyn. The redheaded elf pinned herself to a crucifix, calling for her son. "EMERSON! PLEASE HELP ME!" That wench called to him, but she was nowhere to be found. His mother would never do such a thing. Adorned in a red, warm fitting dress, Prydwyn thrashed around while the flames engulfed the ground. 
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"MOTHER!" Emerson's feet pedaled as fast as he could. He tried snuffing the flames, but nothing worked. Any attempt to stop it exacerbated the flames. As he 
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' She must be strong,
She must be tall, wise, and good.
She must be pure...
To be the Pure of Heart...' 
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A monotonous bell chimed behind her. A silver, gargantuan bell greeted his eyes, the pendulum effect inducing dizziness. Emerson's eyes guided him through the fog, and then back to Prydwyn. 
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"HELP!" Another voice beckoned from his vicinity. Emerald green eyes flicked towards another damsel in distress. This time, she had a feathery, airy voice akin to an angel's cry. The sound of her voice ripped his gaze from his burning mother. As soon as the other damsel called, he saw her in a swinging, rusted cage. The gold crystals carried with the dust as she banged on them. "Please, help me, dear sir..." 
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"EMERSON CAVANAUGH!" Alas, the boy was too late. Those horrible visions died after a good ten minutes of wondering. 
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Emerson scrambled out of his bed to see his mother. His eyes flickered open, hating that he had little sleep to begin with. Upon coming down the stairs, he could hear people talking about him. Emerson felt... Strangely popular. Echoes of commotion increased upon his trek to the conference room. The smell of patchouli and chamomile dominated his nose, inducing a few coughs. Emerson tugged at the old, tight clothing that stuck to his chest. 
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Without a choice, Emerson unbuttoned his red, flannel tunic. The winds ripped at his bare chest, despite the summer like heat. His mouth felt glued with saliva. Emerson rubbed at his tired eyes, gazing at the packed Council room. A yawn managed from his tired lips. Being a young adult gave rise to higher responsibilities. In addition to Emerson's physiology, no wonder Zürich and Prydwyn demanded so much of him. Of course, this would be no exception. "Hi." He gave a groggy greeting. If he could return to the confinements of his bed, he'd practically snuggle all over it. 
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"Ah, Emerson, my good Prince! We've been expecting your company. Please sit!" So much for a rude awakening, he wondered. Emerson took a seat next to Oswald. Upon doing so, Oswald suppressed a giddy laugh. At that point, Emerson looked over to Zurich and Prydwyn. 
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"Ah, really?" He couldn't really speak; the constellation of events made him dizzy. "What may it be, Father Cavanaugh?"
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The Queen spoke, addressing both Emerson and Oswald. She chimed, "Emerson, we come with dire news. All of Ebonmere is under siege by an evil Goddess. She suffers, she cries, and she's purely immortal. She wants someone to end her life, unless if she's free from the creations that prison her."
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Emerson scoffed, "Mother, have you consumed lavender or the pollens of the Tainted Forest? Who knows what goes in your head?"
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"Hey, peace!" At that point, Oswald elbowed the young prince. The man countered, his brown eyes aflame with anger. "A prince knows better than to correspond with malice!" 
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"Emerson, this is not to be taken lightly. Listen: trouble is afoot, my boy. The Gardener's imprisoned for many years, and she's expecting an escape. He Gardener is enclosed in a special, pollen cage within the meadows of Twileigh. For every day she's dormant, it is said that she sings a melody to beckon others to her safety." The very visions of the women in his dream flashed for the briefest of moments. Nevertheless, Emerson continued to listen.
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Emerson rolled his eyes. Was his mother serious? "But why me, Mother? I can't do so much as save anyone... Not even a Goddess!"
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"Son, I feel your body is the most qualified to do it." Zürich concluded, pointing at the council members. "First, Sir Oswald agreed to do it, but his hay fever would prove too much for saving the Gardener. The cage and the air is pungent of a mystic pollen. If you so much as inhale it, it could wreck havoc on your body. However, with your gift of immunity, Emerson, we are confident you'll save her."
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Emerson took this as a good start. Maybe she was real after all. Emerson nodded his head, "If you insist, where should I find her?"
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Prydwyn pulled out a map of Ebonmere. "From the Viceroy Capitol, you will leave to Tillywicket - South of this Kingdom. Then, you will venture to the Jezebel Swamp. After you find the Grief Plant, root it out and take it to Alesund, where a ferryman will take you to Hibiscus and then follow the poppy trail to Twileigh."
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"Oh, sounds fun!" Emerson got pumped up for the epic quest, "But what can I use?" 
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"Here, you can take this!" With the flick of a wrist, Zurich presented a long, chiseled sword with a blue sheath. "The Sword of Erasmus will do you some good." While the King granted Emerson the sword, Emerson could feel someone tugging him out the door. "Hurry up, time is if the essence!"
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"But, dad... I'm not ready yet! I - I - I!" Before Emerson protested, a copper aircraft arrived by the balcony. "DAD, CAN OS--,"
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"N - O - N - S - E - N - S - E. Go on that ship, boy! Good luck!" With that, the king practically shoved his son into the door. 
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....
And! That's Chapter 2 for you!
Little Emmett's going on... An EPIC QUEST!
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I feel that this part was a bit rushed. Frankly, so was the prelude (it's... Meh... feel free to skip it!) Anyway, this may be the only chapter for this week. Friday's filled with so much responsibilities, which is why I... Pushed poor Emerson out the door! (Le gasp!)
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By the way, anyone willing to ship Ozzy and Emmy? Just kidding~! But really, they'd make a great pair! 
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