Innocence and Audacity
Chapter 5
"Aughhh...my head..." I awoke, feeling majorly hung-over and more than a little amnestic. What had just happened? Don't get me wrong; I remembered the important things, like my name, my favorite color and the hiding place of my favorite binge food(devil's food dumplings, under a loose floorboard in the pantry, where my sadistic dietician couldn't find them), but everything else, like exactly what I was doing here, and where exactly here WAS, was a bit hazy, to say the least. As I sat up and the blood rushed to my head, I slowly began to remember the day's events. Still, that didn't solve my real problem. The world had gone dark. Completely and inexorably dark. Gone was the neat, orderly fairy-tale secret passage, lit by the quaint and quintessential torches on the rocky, mossy walls. Now, I was on my butt surrounded by rubble. And I couldn't see. It was okay. I could handle this. I would just do like the heroes in all those epics did...I used to love to hear those, from Beowulf to Ginji, dreaming of being reckless and aimless, flying along in the breeze like an armored dandelion, stopping only to rescue fair youths and battle nefarious monsters. What would they have done? Wait, I know...they would all be smart enough not to blindly follow an imperfect stranger into such an uncomfortable situation in the first place. There was only one thing to do, really. Tears welled up in my eyes as I tried to figure out what exactly that was, and I surrendered myself to sobs.
A few moments later, I began to feel decidedly ashamed of myself. Why was I crying? Did I think so little of myself? Sitting there, waiting for an absolution, like the ubiquitous damsel-in-distress, someone who always needed someone else to save her? I had metamorphosed into a weak, sniffling, jittery mess, my least favorite kind of person, and over what? Okay, so I was in some sort of tunnel, chasing after some sort of blockhead, in some sort of alternate universe that really couldn't be my world at all. I could figure this out. In the REAL world, I would be drowsily engaged in a mindless lecture on either breakfast room etiquette or the proper thing to say when your uncle's fiancee's cousin's brother's niece from the backwoods of Edo-but-who-might-be-inheriting-a-common-law-throne-so-we -can't-risk-being-offensive comes to visit. I wouldn't be in a secret passage, that, by all rights, shouldn't even exist, and I certainly would not be chasing after some guy like a love-sick loon. Which I was not; I just wanted to make sure my house wasn't in danger. But I digress. The sooner I figured out how to get out of this tunnel, the sooner I could get back to my normal, everyday problems. Somehow, they seemed a lot comfier and cozier at this point.
Investigation seemed to be the most logical course of action. I stood up, dusted myself off as best as I could, and proceeded to walk into the wall. After poking around for a moment, I discovered that I was actually not completely surrounded by an assortment of rocks and rubble. And there was the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel...I only needed to move some rocks, and I would be relatively free and clear. Now, I was back in the entrance of the tunnel. From what I could see around me, it appeared that the main portion of the tunnel had collapsed into itself, while the entrance had remained comparatively secure, and with an extra perk: one torch on its wall remained lit. And when I stood on my tiptoes, I could get it down! So, I would just step through the rubble with my handy new divining medium until I reached the end of the tunnel! I began to mosey though the rugged terrain, seeking the end of the passageway...but, wait...something was wrong. This wasn't going to work. First, I really had to find out what had happened earlier. I didn't want to run into any more...similar mishaps, particularly ones that culminated in my being knocked out.
I gingerly began my trek through the piles of stone, searching for an answer. And, there it was... a smoldering flint, one that could used to light any sort of elementary machine, oven, or...or firework. That had to have been it. I hunted through the debris with my free hand until I found what I was looking for: a recently lit rocket-type firecracker used most predominantly by jesters, naughty children and rogues who sought to conclude their bouts of revelry and drunkenness with a bit of visual stimulation. So, my new friend was a jokester. Well, I wasn't laughing. Not even close. He'd apparently rigged the pile of rock with a makeshift bomb that would detonate when touched. I'd heard of way too many cases concerning that particular firecracker, and its tendency to deliver more than the purchasers' bargained for, to admire his vision and skill in setting it up. And, another thing... my assailant wasn't a fool. He'd have known the possible consequences for constructing and setting off such a bomb if anyone would. What was he so driven for, that he was willing to kill to reach his goal? Perhaps some would write my next move off as foolish, silly or even a gross example of a blind yearning for vengeance, but for me it was unquestionable: I kept following, determined to find out exactly what was going on and why this guy was willing to go so far to achieve his ends.
AN: It'd be great if you'd review. This story might seem like it's moving pretty slowly, but I really wanna get the exposition cleared up before I move into too much unbridled action. Or, at least, that's what I'm going for.
Chapter 5
"Aughhh...my head..." I awoke, feeling majorly hung-over and more than a little amnestic. What had just happened? Don't get me wrong; I remembered the important things, like my name, my favorite color and the hiding place of my favorite binge food(devil's food dumplings, under a loose floorboard in the pantry, where my sadistic dietician couldn't find them), but everything else, like exactly what I was doing here, and where exactly here WAS, was a bit hazy, to say the least. As I sat up and the blood rushed to my head, I slowly began to remember the day's events. Still, that didn't solve my real problem. The world had gone dark. Completely and inexorably dark. Gone was the neat, orderly fairy-tale secret passage, lit by the quaint and quintessential torches on the rocky, mossy walls. Now, I was on my butt surrounded by rubble. And I couldn't see. It was okay. I could handle this. I would just do like the heroes in all those epics did...I used to love to hear those, from Beowulf to Ginji, dreaming of being reckless and aimless, flying along in the breeze like an armored dandelion, stopping only to rescue fair youths and battle nefarious monsters. What would they have done? Wait, I know...they would all be smart enough not to blindly follow an imperfect stranger into such an uncomfortable situation in the first place. There was only one thing to do, really. Tears welled up in my eyes as I tried to figure out what exactly that was, and I surrendered myself to sobs.
A few moments later, I began to feel decidedly ashamed of myself. Why was I crying? Did I think so little of myself? Sitting there, waiting for an absolution, like the ubiquitous damsel-in-distress, someone who always needed someone else to save her? I had metamorphosed into a weak, sniffling, jittery mess, my least favorite kind of person, and over what? Okay, so I was in some sort of tunnel, chasing after some sort of blockhead, in some sort of alternate universe that really couldn't be my world at all. I could figure this out. In the REAL world, I would be drowsily engaged in a mindless lecture on either breakfast room etiquette or the proper thing to say when your uncle's fiancee's cousin's brother's niece from the backwoods of Edo-but-who-might-be-inheriting-a-common-law-throne-so-we -can't-risk-being-offensive comes to visit. I wouldn't be in a secret passage, that, by all rights, shouldn't even exist, and I certainly would not be chasing after some guy like a love-sick loon. Which I was not; I just wanted to make sure my house wasn't in danger. But I digress. The sooner I figured out how to get out of this tunnel, the sooner I could get back to my normal, everyday problems. Somehow, they seemed a lot comfier and cozier at this point.
Investigation seemed to be the most logical course of action. I stood up, dusted myself off as best as I could, and proceeded to walk into the wall. After poking around for a moment, I discovered that I was actually not completely surrounded by an assortment of rocks and rubble. And there was the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel...I only needed to move some rocks, and I would be relatively free and clear. Now, I was back in the entrance of the tunnel. From what I could see around me, it appeared that the main portion of the tunnel had collapsed into itself, while the entrance had remained comparatively secure, and with an extra perk: one torch on its wall remained lit. And when I stood on my tiptoes, I could get it down! So, I would just step through the rubble with my handy new divining medium until I reached the end of the tunnel! I began to mosey though the rugged terrain, seeking the end of the passageway...but, wait...something was wrong. This wasn't going to work. First, I really had to find out what had happened earlier. I didn't want to run into any more...similar mishaps, particularly ones that culminated in my being knocked out.
I gingerly began my trek through the piles of stone, searching for an answer. And, there it was... a smoldering flint, one that could used to light any sort of elementary machine, oven, or...or firework. That had to have been it. I hunted through the debris with my free hand until I found what I was looking for: a recently lit rocket-type firecracker used most predominantly by jesters, naughty children and rogues who sought to conclude their bouts of revelry and drunkenness with a bit of visual stimulation. So, my new friend was a jokester. Well, I wasn't laughing. Not even close. He'd apparently rigged the pile of rock with a makeshift bomb that would detonate when touched. I'd heard of way too many cases concerning that particular firecracker, and its tendency to deliver more than the purchasers' bargained for, to admire his vision and skill in setting it up. And, another thing... my assailant wasn't a fool. He'd have known the possible consequences for constructing and setting off such a bomb if anyone would. What was he so driven for, that he was willing to kill to reach his goal? Perhaps some would write my next move off as foolish, silly or even a gross example of a blind yearning for vengeance, but for me it was unquestionable: I kept following, determined to find out exactly what was going on and why this guy was willing to go so far to achieve his ends.
AN: It'd be great if you'd review. This story might seem like it's moving pretty slowly, but I really wanna get the exposition cleared up before I move into too much unbridled action. Or, at least, that's what I'm going for.