The Innocence of Teacups
Spirit Land

Down below in Spirit Land the ground was white, like ash left behind from burnt coals. Scabby trees were white to, all bare of leaves even though it was summer. Sinking sunlight touched this long stretch of land yet failed to have any effect at lighting anything up. Most strange.

Summer wind blew through his hair and made Sasha prop himself up on his elbows, having been slowly cooking himself for an hour. They were going to wait until dawn to cross Spirit Land seen as spirits were nocturnal and there’d be less chance of being approached by one in the morning. Waiting made him glance over his shoulder every so often afraid he might spot Freyr running after him. Silly really, why would Freyr bother retrieving him? The smashed teacup and yells of ungratefulness proved how little he meant to his master.

“Would you quit peering into Spirit Land? If they notice you watching them they’ll get angry.”

Get angry and do what? He peered further, sending his whole body leaning over the edge of the ledge. Sasha grabbed his shoulders and pulled him back.

“It’s little wonder you haven’t killed yourself before. I can’t get my head round you wading over that bridge without even testing its strength.”

The bridge obviously must have been strong having survived carts rolling along it and had been carved from stone. He pointed skywards and rolled his eyes several times.

“No I’m not afraid of heights, if that’s what you’re getting at. I’m concerned about your safety while escorting you.”

If you asked him he was the one doing the escorting. Sasha proved to be very poor at taking care of himself. For example he brought along a pack full of useless junk, which he was replaceing difficult to put away once he took it all out. Who ended up packing Sasha’s pack in the mornings? That was right him.

When night came he stayed awake to see if he would spy any activity down in Spirit Land. Nothing seemed to be moving. You’d think seeing down in the dark from a mountain ledge would be impossible however every time the moons were free of being covered by cloud they lit up Spirit Land, making the charred whiteness and scrawny trees light up. No spirits in sight though.

Bored he shuffled over to his blanket, almost ready to turn in for the night. His eyes averted away from Spirit Land for a moment when Sasha let off a shiver in his sleep. Several shivers, sending his body jolting. It was cool on the ledge but not cold enough to produce shivers. Maybe Sasha was used to hot climates. When he rolled his eyes back onto Spirit Land, his insides jumped.

Peering at him from behind the ledge were two grey eyes. The owner of the grey eyes reached an arm out to him. How she could possibly do so when she was also clinging to the ledge was beyond him for a moment up until she scuttled over the ledge all insect like with six arms and six legs. Twelve limbs! His hand scrambled about his blanket in search of parchment, ink, and quill. The creature continued coming at him but he ignored it because he really wanted to ask if she happened to be a spirit.

The creature clicked her claws together; as though she was waving. He stopped searching for his writing equipment to look back and try work out why she was watching him. This was when Sasha jolted from a shiver to be awake, and in a flash his sword was waved at their visitor.

The creature hissed then fled down the ledge vanishing from sight.

“What did I tell you about staring into Spirit Land? You’ve attracted attention to yourself.” Sasha sheathed his sword then blew into cupped hands. “Even one brings on a chill. Don’t you feel like you’ve frozen?”

He shook his head.

“You’re weird. Everyone I know gets ever so cold on the inside. My bones feel like they’ve turned to ice, and are dripping onto my organs making them cold too. You really don’t feel anything similar?”

Sasha was giving him I don’t understand you type look. At least he assumed this was the type of the look he was receiving up until his dropped knife was held out to him, hilt first. His fingers recoiled.

“You’re going to need some protection in Spirit Land. I know you’ve not received any formal training even still I’d feel better knowing you were carrying a blade. I need it back as soon as we get out the other end.”

He knew how to wield this knife alright. Fingertip flesh padded against the black hilt, connecting with bones underneath his outer-self an outer-self who was playing Sasha for a fool. Killer knife was back with him, grinning wickedly in the moonlight. His stomach clenched while mouth managed to smile slightly to say thanks.

“I suspect it’ll be going to fetch reinforcements to come after us so we may as well start travelling through Spirit Land this very moment. I can’t bear sitting round waiting to be leapt upon. I would rather do the leaping myself if there is any leaping to be done. Eagle, you best stay close the whole trip to make sure nothing drags you off. You were almost dragged you off minutes ago.”

He wasn’t convinced the spirit wanted to drag him off even still Sasha knew these creatures’ mannerisms. To play life safely he kept two steps behind Sasha as they climbed down from their ledge, onto the path, then down the last slope of mountain.

On level ground a few shrubs were dotted about. There were not nearly as many shrubs as on the Kazara side of the mountain. The shrubs thinned out to nothing, the path turned to white ash, and there he was, stood on the edge of Spirit Land. Despite the air being warm Sasha tugged his cloak round himself to keep off a chill. The Sapphire Knight unsheathed his sword then led him into a bright white nocturnal land.

This place did not seem as frightening as Sasha made it out to be. No spirits cavorted in the moonlight.

“They must know we’re here,” Sasha breathed, so he was straining to hear him. “You shouldn’t have been staring at them; they take offense to curious humans.”

His throat blocked up, wanting to let out a shriek, as his foot missed the ground. Hands snatched for Sasha’s cloak. Fingers managed to get a grip however was too late, his other foot met thin air. Falling. A vice grip tightened round his grasping hand, it was Sasha pulling him up, onto the ground.

“I should have warned you about holes in the ground.”

Yes, there was an idea. The choking sensation cleared from his throat, and he squeezed the knife, angry at himself for not being able to shriek. Sasha kicked some ash into the gaping great hole. Holes usually led somewhere. Where did this one lead? He pointed at the hole and shrugged, in an attempt at asking: Hey what’s this hole used for? Sasha did not get his gesture and beckoned at him to walk on. Half a second later before he even got chance to lift his foot Sasha was swinging his sword as he got yanked down the hole, leaving him staring at a dead space. A war cry followed then a chorus of snickering.

Shit. He dropped to his knees and peered right into the hole but it was way too dark to see anything. One knife was okay but two would be better seen as it sounded as though there was a lot to fight down where those spirits dragged Sasha. He tipped his pack upside down, all the contents spilled onto the ground; he went scrabbling through them until he found his knife.

As soon as the knife was in his hand, clawed fingers tapped at his shoulder. His head swerved to the side and there was the same spirit who had been on the mountain ledge.

“You won’t remember me,” she hissed. Human words sounded wrong on her tongue like they did not belong.

He certainly did not remember her and there was no way she could know him. His hands tensed round the two knives.

“You were abandoned on the mountain. I remember your spirit.”

Abandoned on the mountain? He shook his head. He’d been abandoned on Freyr’s doorstep. He could recall the room they’d stayed in, the fire he’d been allowed to sleep by. There was nothing to remember about spirits save for the rumours about them from Violet Town. Rumours were all wrong because these creatures were nothing like ghosts. They were all bony with clawed hands.

“You were! I took you in then you went away. Stolen by your own kind. Good to see you again. Sasha is bad company. Leave him before something nasty occurs.”

No Sasha was the best scrap of company he’d ever encountered. Ignoring the spirit he turned to the hole and sat on the edge, staring down, searching for a ladder or rope. There was nothing as far as his eyes could see. Sasha was croaking rather than sounding out a war cry.

Behind closed eyes, Lanzo’s last spurts of life shone. He jumped. To get rid of the image he opened his eyes. Too bad the insides of this hole were darker than the inside of his eyelids so he could see Lanzo’s bleeding, gasping chest pulsing on them. To block the image he twisted himself round through pure enjoyment, figuring if death was on the receiving end of this fall then he may as well take pleasure in the experience.

Breath exploded out of him as he landed right on top of a spirit. Survival instincts kicked in. He slashed out blindly, catching what felt like a crunchy limb. There was a squeal too. He wanted to call out, needing to know where Sasha was in this swarm of giant insect people. They might stand a chance if there were two of them.

Lots and lots of claws whacked out at him. He propelled himself forwards, only to smack into a cage of arms. Swish swish, back and forth went knives, slashing from armoured flesh to thin air and back to armoured flesh. Squelch squelch until claws grasped his arms, held them tight so he was unable to move them. Being restrained made him clutch his knives tighter.

Squeeze. Squeeze. Squeeze. Claws flexed round his chest and neck, cutting off his air supply. Thoughts of escape were unable to shake in his mind as full concentration was focused on trying to force out breaths. Sweat beaded on his forehead. Only paces away Sasha screeched. Too many bodies were around. Compressed chest was about ready to crack to pieces.

“Kill Freyr when our moons align and Sasha goes free,” was whispered in his ear. “You too, Spirited Child. Deal?”

He shook his head. Sasha whimpered. A rib cracked somewhere, making him want to scream out which would never happen. Only slightly more pressure was needed to be applied to his chest until an absolute cave in.

A shaft of red light came falling down the hole. Spirits everywhere hissed and backed off along passages, hurrying to get away from the light which was walking right over to him. Walking light? This was a person rather than a natural source of light. While clutching his knives and battling to breathe his eyes wouldn’t stop staring at his saviour.

“You’d better keep running or I’ll raise an inferno,” Freyr shouted then slumped halfway to the floor but managed to steady himself. “And you can quit your gawpi-i-n-...”

Say no more he was already there, helping to steady his loyal master, ignoring his cracked rib.

Was his master indeed a warlock? How did he glow? So many questions.

“I shouldn’t expect such pathetic behaviour from a Sapphire Knight,” grumbled Freyr as he stared up the hole, inspecting their situation. “Why would you run off with Sasha? Look at him cowering over a slight chill.”

Sasha! Oh disaster! Several lumps welled in his throat. One lump for lying to his master. The second at his dread of Sasha replaceing out he was the one who murdered Lanzo. Then there was the third which feared for Sasha’s safety.

“Bring him along. We can’t have him going home to spread gossip about dark magic being used in Violet Town. I’ll have to silence him somehow.”

He dropped his hold on Freyr and went over to Sasha, grabbing him by the shoulders to try and guide him to his feet. When no reaction was made he shook Sasha’s shoulder to try urge him up, all this gained was chattering teeth.

“We’ll have to travel underground through Spirit Land. Getting up top by climbing will never work. The footholds are too crumbly if you aren’t insect-like.” Freyr took a hold of Sasha and together they heaved the frozen knight to his feet. They were about to set off but Freyr stopped and held out his pack to him. “It would have been a shame to leave your things up there. Especially that elaborate book and your exquisite writing.”

Lump number four joined the rest as he took his pack, shouldering it. They took a few steps holding in between them an incoherently murmuring Sasha.

“Stay close to me and spirits won’t harm you.”

Why wouldn’t spirits touch him if Freyr was there? They walked along without interaction through this long dark tunnel with many twists and turns. Freyr would let off a shiver when they past by spirits who spat many curses at them. His cracked rib ached and made breathing a small chore as they travelled, especially having to lug Sasha’s weight round too. At least Freyr seemed to know where he was going.

So dark. How anyone could live without sunlight amazed him. If he could only venture outside at night he would feel very depressed. Had a spirit ever seen the sun?

Sasha was on the verge of being unconscious so they were practically dragging him along. They dragged him all the way out the underground lair. When they reached the exit they were jostled by smaller spirits who were eager to greet the night. The moon was hidden behind a wall of cloud. Spirits scuttled round, enjoying their land while getting ready to pounce on the trespassers. However one look at a glowing Freyr and they soon backed down. On they walked until ashen land was no longer under their soles; it was replaced by, grass and dirt.