STORY JUMPERS PART 4: MENSAMQUE

Part One can be found here

Part Two can be found here

Part Three can be found here

Seated at a row of makeshift tables huddled together, eight beings were all staring at Finn in anticipation. All of them were majestic in their own way and undeniably otherworldly. There was magick here and Finn could feel the warm energy of the bonsai tree pulsing and radiating towards this group as Finn walked towards them.

 

With each step Finn’s feet and legs became cumulatively lighter which resulted in Finn almost gliding to the far left-hand side of the tables. A breath-taking sight sat before Finn. Finn’s gaze then involuntarily dropped to the little sign in front of them that said ‘FIDEM’ and ‘MD’ in gold letters. ‘FIDEM’ Finn whispered to themselves; ‘FIDEM’. This word, and its sound was now reverberating throughout Finn’s body. Flashes of images permeated Finn, from archives unknown. From these images Finn witnessed many people utter this word with authority; people from the Age of Religion where there were countless, bloody and, frankly, pointless wars throughout our terrestrial land over how to best teach the origins of, and the path to, The Source. Still, even in their starkest differences they had all shared FIDEM… FAITH… which had become almost impossible to reconcile. Finn was thankful they no longer lived in such times.

 

Finn’s eyes then shifted to the ‘MD’ and immediately visualised a large, grandfather clock made of solid, deep red wood which contained a circle of symbols that were in the same font as ‘MD’ on the sign. The clock was chiming in a low, abrasive and sustained chord; with both hands striking ‘XII’. Finn recalled these were Roman Numerals and lifted the device from their other hand to investigate of this was indeed the case.

 

‘No need’, a resplendent voice boomed from directly in front of Finn. ‘We are old; very old; and, still, we come together as one.’ 

 

The face was indeed old but it was luminous. There was no way to discern any exact features on this face as they were ephemeral. FIDEM’s eyes were neither blue, green or brown and yet they flashed all three as they observed Finn closely. FIDEM’s skin was neither light, dark nor all the shades in-between, but it was also all of them. On FIDEM’s head there was a headpiece that similarly morphed into a small cap, a skullcap, a turban, a veil, a scarf, a headdress and then nothing. Their robes were also magnificent in texture and in colour, but these too transmuted to the point that Finn forced themselves to conclude that FIDEM was actually wearing all of them at once.

 

‘We are old too,’ said a voice that was not FIDEM’s. “But, we are young. And we also come together as one.’

 

Sitting to the right of FIDEM was what could be best described as an amalgamation and personification of a number of local animals that had co-habited here for many years. At first sight Finn saw a human-sized otter and its back eyes staring amusedly at them. Its face was small; with a large, rounded black nose and long, ash-white whiskers. Then suddenly it metamorphosised into a gigantic white swan with an enormous, and elongated, orange beak encircled in black which also circled its dark eyes. The being morphed again, into a huge brown and white hedgehog who was clearly uncomfortable sitting in that seat; its pink feet dangling in the air, searching for any earth into which it could sink. Its sign said ‘MAGUS’ in gold letters, with another set of Roman Numerals following it.

 

‘We control the elements still not fully known to humans,’ MAGUS explained and that was when Finn realised that there was no sound coming out of any of the animal mouths. They were communicating telepathically to Finn. Finn wondered if they could hear Finn’s thoughts.

 

‘Of course we can, FOLLIS,’ they said, referring to Finn. ‘And we would like that you choose us. We understand trees very well. We can show you their origins, history and how they have adapted to different lands. We can also communicate with them.’

 

‘FOLLIS?’ Finn asked themselves. ‘Who are FOLLIS?”

 

‘Why, you are,’ explained that identical voice inside Finn’s heads. ‘You are at a crossroads where you can embark on eight different journeys. You may or may not choose wisely.’ 

 

‘We also understand trees, both the living and the dead. The dead belong to us,” disclosed a different, funereal voice to FOLLIS’ right. FOLLIS turned towards this voice and saw what could be best described as ‘the dead’ sitting further along the table to the right. Like the others, their form was transparent yet repeatedly shapeshifting. The bonsai tree in FOLLIS’ hand was pulsating once again and engorging towards these beings now and FOLLIS began to unconsciously float over to where they were sitting.

 

‘We are MORTUUS: FLUMEN,’ they explained when FOLLIS finally arrived in front of them. ‘We have all been consumed by the river and own its power now, along with the power of death. We would like to show you that power.’ FOLLIS could see that this being before them had, indeed, been consumed: all of their eyes were pale, sunken, irritated and lifeless; their skins were all light hues of grey, purple and blue, and their clothes were tattered, faded and terribly creased. FOLLIS knew that all this being’s forms had drowned in that river FOLLIS saw earlier today.

 

FOLLIS was confused, light-headed and felt like they were going to faint. FOLLIS became consumed by the need to sit down before they fell down. But, then, another voice boomed to FOLLIS' right...