New Dawn

Frank English

Description

Jimmy has finally gotten himself into a situation from which there seems to be no escape. He has irritated and annoyed the wrong magician at the wrong time. Or has he? Surely he must get away from the prison that is Verdan?According to the powers for good, he has much work to do in drawing together the people of this wonderful world. He must escape, mustn't he?To this point Jimmy has grown up beyond all recognition, through all his trials and adventures. He has encountered great characters, and has cemented unusual friendships in many dangerous situations, where older people might not have survived.Has the youngster's charmed life finally lost its charm or dies he won through and achieve his destiny? How does he overcome the barrier that his age erects against his goal of becoming one of the most effective and powerful leaders Omni has ever seen?All these questions will be answered in this jaw-dropping climax to the stories of 'The Magic Parcel'

Informations

• Publié par: 2QT Limited (Publishing
• Date de parution: 31 août 2012
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781910077535
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

Extrait

Magic Parcel :
A New Dawn




Frank English









2QT Limited (Publishing)


First ebook edition published 2013
2QT Limited (Publishing)
Burton In Kendal
Cumbria LA6 1NJ
www.2qt.co.uk

978-1-910077-53-5
Copyright © 2009 Frank English. All rights reserved.

The right of Frank English to be identified as the author
of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the
Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

All rights reserved. This book is sold subject to the condition that no part of this book is to be reproduced, in any shape or form. Or by way of trade, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition, including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser, without prior permission of the copyright holder.


Cover design and Illustrations by
Chaz Wood & Frang McHardy

The author has his own website: www.frankenglish.co.uk

This book is available as a paperback
from the British Library
978-1-908098-62-7
Dedication
To my wife Denise, without whose unswerving support and encouragement, none of this would have been possible.









Chapter 1
No light.
Blackness.
No flash of life which leaves even the faintest of grey imprints at the edge of the mind, or some half-forgotten, half-caught glimpse of faded memories at the limit of consciousness.
Totally, completely, and utterly … black.
Was it always so? Had there ever been that spark that flicks intermittently, and bursts into life, or was it simply a rumour in this endless void of nothing?
Spark! Flick! There it was again!
Gone.
Imagination.
Imagination? How could there be imagination without consciousness? Does it have a name? No matter. In this blackness, devoid of all hope, nothing matters.
What was that?
A grey chink appeared momentarily in a black curtain wall, to be obliterated almost immediately, urgently, unceremoniously. There is someone home, only they don’t want to admit it. Did we say ‘home’?
“What …?” a faint voice, which was no more than a low register murmur, slid across the void. How could there be a voice when all was black? There
was somebody there!
“Where …?” the murmur again surfaced; a tiny, insignificant splash of grey edged in white. But how could it be insignificant when there was nothing else around to compare it with? Although in the grander scale of things it was tiny, the suffocating black had been breached by a small … human … voice!
“Can … someone …” the voice drawled, almost returning to its soporific state, “… turn … on a light?” The volume switch controlling its output had just been flicked to maximum!
Who was that? Jimmy? Could it be Jimmy? Surely not.
Silence again. No light, although the grey splash remained the vaguest remnant, a coloured gash in the blackness.
“Is there anybody there?” the voice croaked hoarsely. “Only, I don’t know where I am and I can’t see.”
“What is this place?” the voice continued. The thoughts behind the words were disjointed and halting, like the whirring of a celluloid film flapping wildly out of control, through a cinema projector on ultra fast-forward.
Thoughts? Rational thoughts meant there had to be a mind controlling and dictating. Then who …?
“Isn’t anyone going to answer?” the voice returned, gaining in strength and clarity. There had grown an urgency, an irritability, an edge to its questioning. “All right! Enough is enough! Are you there L …?”
What was the name? Surely that name hadn’t become lost!
“Ah! At last! Light!” the voice sighed. A tiny stud of white light appeared off-centre, and, pulsating slightly, began to increase in size slowly, painfully slowly.
“Is that the best you can do?” the Voice goaded. Who was it talking to? You can only have a conversation when somebody, or something responds, surely? No response. No conversation.
The Voice stopped.
Disparate and broken images began to flash momentarily onto the black screen; a small figure with raven hair; a blindingly bright, pulsating light; a green rolling countryside; a vast forest of oak trees; a swirling and profoundly confusing mass of ever-changing shades of black, white, grey or sepia, rather like those ancient photographs everybody keeps in that shabby old box in the loft. What did they all mean? Were they part of some meaningful experience from before? Before what?
“Hello!” the Voice ruptured the silence again. “I know you’re there! So why not answer?”
Still silence. Silence except for that slight shushing sound the inner ear always seems to manufacture when the mind considers there is no noise. So the voice is not disembodied after all! There is life!
The brightness continued to grow, as if the pale light of early day was beginning to ooze weakly through thin muslin curtains; grey to off-white to fuzzy and blurred. No shadows therefore no sun therefore no movement therefore no other life.
“What would … mum think?” Voice faltered as if half-remembering an otherwise lost relationship. An older female form faded into view, a stern look on her face that the mind behind the Voice recognised immediately.
“Mum?” it went on, tentatively at first, then gaining in confidence. “Mum! It is you! Where …?”
The realisation that this wasn’t a dream, some figment of his over-active imagination, brought his consciousness to an abrupt halt. The slightest seed of despair began to germinate. Could this be…
“ … the Foggy Land of Four?” Voice blurted out. “I’m not stuck here forever, am I? After all Lucix and I have been through!”
Lucix? Who was Lucix? Where was he … she?
“Where did that come from?” Voice muttered almost to itself. “Can’t be the Land of Four. No fog; no whispering voices – except for mine.”
Flash, flick; livid green, vibrant azure blue, saffron yellow, interspersed with black and white and grey monochrome, and the occasional touch of sepia.
“Who’s that? Who’s there?” Voice spat out in response to a low discordant chant just on the edge of hearing. “Come on then if you’ve any guts at all. Show yourself.”
“Master … Jimmy … Scoggins,” the discord continued after some minutes, increasing in substance and clarity.
“Mm,” Voice returned. “I recognise that name, I think. But it is not me. My name is … somewhere. ‘Jimmy’ does sound familiar though.”
“It’s only a name,” the discord cut in, its vibrations now strong enough to be felt. “Besides, it doesn’t exist.”
“ What doesn’t exist?” Voice asked. “If whatever it is doesn’t exist, why has it got a name, and how come we’re having this conversation?”
“But it isn’t a conversation,” Discord insisted. “It is simply a series of impulses …”
“ … Which have meaning and purpose,” Voice added pointedly, “and tells me two people are talking. At least, that’s what anyone who has a brain would agree. Consequently, I know I’m alive.”
“But how can you know you exist when there is no physical evidence to prove it?” Discord suggested. “Nothing exists in a physical sense in this non-dimensional half-world of darkness. You cannot prove what you can’t see.”
The argument was conclusive. Voice’s identity wasn’t, but it had established within its own mind that it did exist.
Larger splashes of vibrant colour cascaded into each other, staining the black screen for longer periods. Each time they appeared, they left a longer lasting imprint of … trees and grass and sky. What those things were, the Mind behind the Voice wasn’t sure yet, but it was better than the black.
“That’s a non-truth if ever I heard one!” Voice replied, confidence swelling in his reality. “What ever happened to the basic human philosophy ‘I think, therefore I am’? I’m thinking now, otherwise I wouldn’t be able to have this conversation. So, I think we have established that I am alive and this conversation is real,” Voice said after a moment or two’s pause. “I have always been brought up by my mum to believe in the truth and to lay a great deal of importance on getting on with and helping other people whenever possible.
“I think also that it’s time you stopped hiding behind all this … this nonsense, and told me who you are. You’re obviously very clever and powerful to create all this stuff, but why? I mean, is it to intimidate me? To impress? To control? If so, then why? To what purpose? Do you know ? Or is it just a game to you?”
“Stop! Stop!” Discord interrupted sharply. “Those incessant questions!”
“ … And I’ll continue until I get some answers,” Voice continued. “ That response tells me you too are real, and should come clean. My mother always told me …”
“Enough!” Discord boomed, with an air of finality. “You are my guest for eternity, though that will do you no good now. You have entered my world whence none ever leaves.”
“You’ve tried to keep me in the dark for long enough,” Voice continued, a wave of irritation and impatience sweeping over it. “I have powerful friends too , and they won’t rest until they find me. I wouldn’t be you when they do.”
“Your ‘powerful’ friends have no idea where you are,” Discord said. “You are not on any of their worlds, and their power can have no effect on me or my world.”
“There must be something disturbing your control,” Voice continued, “because your screen of black has almost gone. Look! See! I can make out other things through it. Things I think I have seen before but can’t quite remember.”
“The darkness will return,” Discord said, hesitantly and not very convincingly. “It is part of a natural cycle which…”
“…Trees and grass!” Voice interrup