= = =
Reflection
Every year, that’s what Dungeonmaster had told them. Once every year for just sixty seconds the River rained upside down, and would take them anywhere they wanted to go. It seemed reasonable to assume that this year would be the same as last year, and at least, this time, they would be prepared.
There would be no monstrous Bogbeast with magical powers. Nothing to stop them!
It had been Eric’s idea, initially, but they had all agreed. It was too good an opportunity to miss. The anticipation built as they walked back, though familiar lands.
But then things changed.
Thought he recognised the area, it wasn’t quite the same as it should have been: No wandering around in the desert. No strange flowers. Nothing but sand.
There was no Dungeonmaster either, and that should have warned him that something wasn’t quite right. They hadn’t seen their diminutive Guide since they had first decided to return to the caves.
But Hank never stopped to think.
All he knew was that they were going to go home!
= = =
It was obvious from the moment they entered the cave system that something was very, very wrong. Aside from the lack of noise, and stillness in the cave, there was no moisture, and no lush plants, unlike last time.
Hank didn’t like it.
There was an uncomfortable feeling of emptiness and decay that shouldn’t have been there. When they had left, the Bogbeast colony was thriving, now that they were no longer persecuted by Kawamung and the River was no longer dammed, they could rebuild their village.
But it seemed the cave was empty.
For a moment, the group hung back, even Eric who had been the keenest to go on. In his heart, Hank already suspected what had happened and he almost suggested that they turn back. But they had spent so long coming here to turn back without seeing for themselves.
Hesitantly, he walked forward.
The entrance soon widened out to the caves, but instead of seeing the thriving vegetation that had been there before, there was just an empty cave with only a few brown, brittle stumps to show that anything had ever grown there.
‘Wh-what’s happened?’ asked Bobby quietly. ‘Why’s it like this?’
There was a pause before Hank could speak.
‘I don’t know, Bobby,’ he said. ‘I…um…’
He couldn’t think of anything else to say, even though the Barbarian clearly needed an explanation. The young boy looked round at the others, but no one else spoke.
A cold feeling of foreboding crept over Hank, and he almost turned round and left there and then. But before he could move, Eric abruptly walked on, pushing past the others and heading towards the head of the river, and the Bogbeast village.
‘Eric,’ said Presto, ‘I don’t think that this is such a good idea.’
The Cavalier ignored him, and quickened his pace. Though Hank didn’t want to, he was compelled to follow.
There were broken sticks, and the little Bogbeast shacks where they lived looked as if they had been trampled by a herd of elephants. It was obvious that no one had been here for a long time.
No one spoke.
Just in front of him, Hank could see the Cavalier shaking, he was pale, and he looked around the shattered valley with a look of pain and disbelief on his face.
The village was destroyed, and who knew where the Bogbeasts were. Hank hoped they were safe. But somehow, judging from the level of violence used, he doubted any survived.
And then there was the River itself.
It was obvious where it had run, as the riverbed could still be seen, as a narrow channel running through the centre of the valley. But there was no water, not a single drop, and it looked like it had been that way for a long time.
‘What happened?’ asked Presto at last. ‘What could have done this?’
‘I don’t know,’ muttered Hank. But a very nasty thought had entered his mind. There was only one “person” who could have done something as vile as this.
He looked at the others. At least Diana and Presto were thinking the same thing, judging by the looks on their faces. It was only a matter of time before the Cavalier figured it out too!
‘Greetings,’ said a voice behind them.
Dungeonmaster was standing there, looking somber. They all stared at him for a moment.
‘Wh-what happened, Dungeonmaster?’ asked Sheila. ‘Where have all the Bogbeasts gone?’
Their Guide didn’t reply, but looked supremely uncomfortable. Hank braced himself as Eric moved forward to speak.
‘What did Venger do to them?’ said Eric, sternly.
‘It was not Venger,’ said Dungeonmaster. ‘It was…’ The words seemed to stick in the old man’s throat.
‘Tell us!’ said Bobby, hefting his Club. ‘Tells us who did it to them and I’ll teach them not to mess with our friends!’
‘Yes, tell us, Dungeonmaster,’ added Sheila. ‘Who could have done such a terrible thing?’
The old man let out a sigh of defeat.
‘My children, I’m so sorry. But it was you.’
Hank stared at the old man, open-mouthed.
‘Us?’ he replied. ‘How? How could it be us?’
‘Yeah,’ demanded Eric, planting his hands on his hips and glaring down at the old man. ‘It couldn’t be our fault! We helped them, we defeated that stupid Kawamung, we saved them! How could this…’ he waved his hand round at the desolated Valley, … be our fault?’
‘It was a Mystical River, it was magic, and that means that it was governed by the same rules that all magic obeys.’
Eric was scowling at Dungeonmaster.
‘Rules! Rules!’ he growled. ‘Whaddya mean, rules!’
‘Once a year the Mystic River flowed upside-down, and would take you anywhere you wanted to go. But the power to transport those who rode its currents was only present once.’
He stopped, looking down.
‘It took you where you wanted to go.’
Eric looked like he’d been stabbed. And Hank knew the expression on his own face was exactly the same.
‘The moment you returned to your birthworld, the magic that sustained the Valley was consumed, and the River began to die.’
‘But we came back!’ shouted Eric. ‘We came back!’
‘That was of no consequence.’
‘Consequence?’
‘It’s magic had been used. Its purpose had been fulfilled. It was no longer needed.’
‘Needed!’ snapped Eric. ‘What about the Bogbeasts! They lived on the River, they needed it!’
Dungeonmaster was slowly shaking his head, but he couldn’t look any of them in the eye.
‘They are gone,’ he said. ‘And they can never return.’