What Had Happened Indeed?

Adan fell forward onto his hands and knees, breathing hard. The world was swimming before his eyes, though they took in none of his surroundings. All his mind saw was dragon-fire, red and furious. Then, the red of the flames was seared through with thin blue light, and a dizzy sensation attacked his senses.

Adan shut his eyes tight and shook his head. He had to get ahold of himself. With one hand out to balance, he rose, somewhat shakily, to his feet. As his senses refocused, he noticed the old building beside him, a green door in its wall. He also remembered now how he had been pulled away from certain death (the dragon-fire) by one of the “disturbances” young Eruanna had mentioned (the blue light)—pulled into an entirely different time. And he was completely alone. No time machine, and no Eruanna.

He had no time to think about this, though, for suddenly, the door burst from its hinges in a shower of green splinters. A man dashed out of it, knocking into Adan and sending him staggering backward. The other man tripped and rolled across the ground. Adan quickly steadied himself and looked up. The man—who was bald, with thick glasses, and held a curved knife—glared at him with a sneer and bolted quickly out of sight. A second later, a blur of movement shot out of the broken doorway. It too was soon gone, in the same direction as the bald man.

Adan peered through the doorway. Inside, through tall bookshelves, he could see two children, an old man carrying a candle, and another, lying in the ruins of a table. The older man looked from the three to the doorway (apparently without noticing Adan), then came closer to the children. Adan turned away from the broken door.

His instinct told him to join the chase. It was his duty to protect the people of his town from… unnatural foes: and he could tell there was nothing entirely natural in this chase. Not in a strict sense. But he—no. He could do nothing for Eruanna until he was in her same time. And so he went.

The chase led westward across the town, weaving through back alleys and side streets. Progress was a little difficult, for he could not recognize any of the places. But he followed the traces they had left behind well enough. Snow began to fall as he followed them on. If nothing else, he was glad of the wintry air that cooled the burns on his shoulder. Despite what he’d told Eruanna, “only singed” was far from the truth.

Adan stopped. Neither the bald man nor his swift pursuer were in sight. The traces he’d been following had vanished from sight. This was strange—even if someone, somehow, outran him, he never lost the trail. Perhaps his senses were still recovering from his journey from time to time.

Adan heard the sound of a small bell ringing in the next street, and went towards it. He came to the edge of the alley and looked out. Several people bustled about, carrying packages and bags. Some sort of music was playing nearby. And there was the source of the ringing—a woman with black, unkempt hair and a bright red cap perched upon it, ringing a small bell rather awkwardly. There was an idea: perhaps she could give him some answers. So Adan put up his hood and went over.

“Oh, hello, sir! Merry Christmas!” the woman greeted. Her long necklace, strung with many charms, clinked a little as she turned toward him.

“Merry Christmas to you, madam.”

“Oh, it’s Ms., actually—merry Christmas, ladies! God bless you!” The last was said to two passersby, who had dropped a handful of coins in her red bucket. At Adan’s slightly confused look, she continued, “Does it really seem so strange that I’m collecting for the Salvation Army? Even if my collecting isn’t as effective at the moment, since I was asked to use this little thing.” And she shook her bell. “You see, the girl on this shift had to go home sick, and she asked me to use hers rather than my own. Ann Winston—she’s a nice girl. I used to teach her brother, Larry, a few years ago. Oh, he was one of the cutest little—”

“I must apologize for interrupting, but where am I?”

Now the woman looked confused. “In Bethlehem, of course. In front of Herod’s General Store. You must be a stranger around here.”

“Bethlehem?”

“Named after the original, you see.”

“Ah. And the current year?”

“The year? Why, 1959. Everybody knows that.” She looked at him curiously. “Why do you keep asking these strange questions?”

“I was merely wondering. Have you seen a bald man with glasses run past here?”

“Not perfectly bald, no. I wonder if I should use my bell anyway. It gains much more attention.”

Adan sighed. “Perhaps so. Thank you for your help.” Adan bowed slightly. “Merry Christmas, miss.” With that, he returned to the alleyway. He heard the woman cry “Merry Christmas to you, sir!” behind him.

Adan stood in the shadowed alley for a moment, pondering. He was sure of it now: this was not his town at all. It could not be, not even eighty-four years in the future. But then, how could the disturbances in time take him to another place? And if they did, how would he be able to get back? Adan considered what he might do, unaware of the danger drawing silently nearer, about to strike.

Suddenly, a clanging, thundering, head-pounding noise struck up. Adan cried out and covered his ears. His sharp eyes searched for its source. There! It was the same woman, swinging a larger, much louder bell, smiling. Her mouth moved, though he couldn’t hear the words over the bell. It looked like “much better”.

Adan turned to go deeper into the alley, away from the noise, but found, standing behind him, none other than the bald man. He too was frozen in his tracks by the pounding bell. He covered an ear with one hand, but in the other, still gripped the knife. His eyes narrowed when he saw Adan. Then, the man lunged at him.

Adan was ready, and dodged to his right. The bald man checked his direction and turned toward him, raising his weapon. Adan hit the man’s knife hand with his own right hand, covered with his gauntlet. That knocked the man’s hand away. Then Adan brought a hard punch to the man’s jaw, and as he staggered back, another to his chest. The man fell backward into a stack of crates, and lay still.

Adan stood there for a moment. The only sound not drowned out by the domination of the mad bell was his own breathing (a little harder than normal). A piece of paper fluttered to the ground before him. Out of curiosity, Adan picked it up. On it was scribbled, in messy handwriting, “Theodosius Manuscript = Leyland, England?”

He looked back at the man, still lying there, then stepped toward the end of the alley furthest from the main street. His eyes searched the area, but there was no sign of the Blur who had pursued the bald man. He listened. But even his sharp ears could hear little over the sound of the bell. He hoped the Blur would soon return for his quarry. Once this matter was taken care of, he could finally turn his attention to finding a way back to young Eruanna.

After a last look round, Adan turned to check the bald man. But as he turned, there was a sharp, tearing pain in his left shoulder, the same place as his burn wounds. He cried out and grasped his shoulder, gritting his teeth. Suddenly, he was kicked in the side, and the impact knocked him to the ground.

A hand snatched up the paper, dropped out of pain. It belonged to the bald man, who towered over him, clutching the knife. Eyes dark with malice, he raised the knife to finish him. But something caught his attention, something Adan, in his position, could not see. “Again, he—” The man broke off into a snarl before leaping across the alley and dashing off through another side street.

Adan struggled to get up. He could not let this foe escape. He rose to his feet, not without pain, and was about to go after him yet again. But at that moment, two things happened. The wild bell fell silent, its sudden absence like a thunderclap. Adan felt a gentle hand upon his left shoulder. Their combined effect made him whip round suddenly.

The hand belonged to a small, old man, frail in body. But his eyes bespoke a hunt and anticipated battle. He smiled kindly. “Fear not, noble one,” he said. “You needn’t follow any longer—you’ve helped me greatly already.” The old man set his hand on Adan’s shoulder once more. Its weight seemed strangely to lift some of his weariness, and pain. “You must rest for now. And a help is nearer than you think.” The old man chuckled and began to leave.

“Sir, I must ask you something!”

The man turned to Adan. “Yes?”

“Why did he take the time to attack me? Surely, with such a pursuer, he—”

“Because his hated enemy is of Faerie as well, fair sir.” He chuckled again. “Goodbye for the present.” And the man shot off like a streak of light. Adan stared after him, wishing they could speak further: he was certain this man possessed great wisdom. But then he heard a small voice behind him.

“Old Cass…” Adan turned around and saw the bell-woman, standing at the entrance of the alley. Her large bell dangled limply from her hand. She stared distantly, past Adan, and whispered again. “Old Cass…” Her eyes then focused sharply on Adan. “You’re an elf, aren’t you?”

Adan was surprised by the question, but answered her truthfully. “Yes, I am.” He smiled a little. “I am Adanion Sterling, from the township of Scarborough. At your service.” And he bowed.

---

Well, how did you like my special project (a.k.a. Part 3)? I must say, that may be the fastest I’ve ever completed a writing project in my life. And now you finally know what happened to Adan!

But some of you may not know why it happened. Who were the people engaging in the chase? Why were they chasing? What did the piece of paper have to do with anything? Well, the answers to most of those questions can be found in The Nicholas Book. It’s a delightful Christmas story, addressing the truth about Santa Claus, with no small amount of mystery and wonder involved. We read it every year. Highly recommended.

But why am I posting this part now? Why a Christmas story at the beginning of September? Well, the reason is wrapped up in the identity of the author of The Nicholas Book: William Chad Newsom, my father.

His birthday was a few days ago, you see. I wanted to get Part 3 finished by his birthday, if not posted. And I managed to finish it in time, and we read it that night. It was pretty fun, watching everyone realizing what was going on, and where Adan really was. But the best part was that Daddy loved his birthday present.

Now, a few things before we go. I didn’t do a Mid-Week Music post this week, mainly because I was burnt out after writing this so fast. But there should be an MWM in the next week or the week after. I’ll try to post more regularly after that. Then, sometime next month, Part 4 should hopefully appear on the blogosphere!

Goodbye, hope you enjoyed, and once again, Happy Birthday, Daddy!