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Rated: 18+ · Book · Fantasy · #2261226
November Writing Challenge Novel
#1020676 added November 2, 2021 at 7:06pm
Restrictions: None
20211102
Opening her eyes, Boudica looked around. She was not sure what she had expected, and felt slightly disappointed to find herself on a chalk path curving around the side of a hill. The top of the hill was crowned with a building, and she guessed that it was her goal, the Mindwalk Pavilion.

She had never been there, unlike the majority of those who'd taken the challenge to become ruler of Albion. She had expected to go there one day, and become a part of the Council. That she'd be trying one day to be Queen had of course been in the back of her mind, one of those plans that you never talked about. Boudica knew she had talent, already she was familiar with Elementals, and had some interaction with Dryads.

She was becoming distracted, and pulled her attention back to where she was, which was still on the path. Despite walking for some time, she did not seem to have climbed any higher. Looking around herself carefully, Boudica realised how nondescript the landscape was. Where she was looked the same as where she had been, a rough chalk path, wide enough for two people, cut into the grassy hillside. The land below stretched away so that it was impossible to see the base of the hill, and the horizon held a flat sea meeting a cloudless sky.

All of this she knew was not real, or at least not real in the sense that the path around Chester Castle was real. It was a projection, or a construct, or perhaps a consensually agreed illusion. All of these Boudica had heard used in an attempt to describe the Mindwalk. In her childhood she had been taken by a Sylph clean out of her body and to the city of Guthrie, where she had heard the strange music created using the buildings themselves as instruments. She knew that Guthrie was both real and unreal, depending on how you described reality.

Distracted again, Boudica chastised herself mentally. The scenery was the same, clearly she wasn't getting anywhere. She stopped. Time might be different here, it often was subjective in such places. As far as she knew, there was no time limit involved in the challenge. That said, she didn't really know much about the challenge at all. This made sense to her, as if one knew all about a challenge in advance it wouldn't be much of a challenge.

Perhaps just getting there was the challenge, she certainly didn't seem to be making any headway towards it so far. Her attention kept wandering, and whilst she was walking along thinking about something else, she wasn't moving towards her goal at all. Then she had it, remembering a conversation with her tutor about the vital importance of attention. To pay attention, implied that attention was a finite resource, to be expended wisely or .. squandered on distractions.

Boudica forced herself to focus, looking down at her feet, watching the chalk path beneath her. She had done lessons to improve her concentration, now she made use of them. As each new thought rose up in her mind, she gently turned it away and instead focused on her journey, each step, every step. Boudica studied the path, taking note of this pebble, of that small depression, how this small flower hung its head over the edge of the path.

Then she stepped onto smooth stone flooring. Relief flooded through her, and she assumed that she had passed the first part of her challenge.

Looking up Boudica was momentarily overawed by how large the Pavilion was. The building before her was immense, far larger than the castle in which she lived. She could see towers and roofs, balconies and balustrades. She could not however see an entrance, though that was somewhat academic, since the Pavilion apparently had a moat.

"Do you know how to solve the problem of the fox, the chicken and the corn?"

Boudica had not seen or heard anyone approaching, yet as she turned, the speaker was standing right next to her. A man, dressed in a dark frock coat, a stiff white shirt tied at the neck with a bow of red silk, looked at her expectantly. He had a heavy set face, with sad eyes, and his hair, which was parted on the right was curled over his ears and forehead. Boudica had never seen anyone dressed in such a manner.

Remembering herself Boudica replied,

"I am not familiar with the problem Sir."

As she spoke she took in several other rather pertinent facts. One was that he held a rope, and this was tied to a small boat that bobbed in the moat next to them. The other was that next to him was sat a small red fox, a brown chicken, and besides them was an open sack of bright yellow corn.

"Oh it's quite a simple one I assure you. This boat," he indicated with a small tug that he was referring to the one she had just noticed, "can only hold you and any one of these," pointing to the fox, chicken and corn.

"You have to take all three with you to the other side, which will take several journeys. If you leave the fox and the chicken together, the fox will eat the chicken."

The fox looked up at Boudica and licked its lips.

"and if you leave the corn with the chicken, she will consume the corn."

The chicken was already eyeing the corn hungrily.

"Here you are." The stranger handed Boudica the rope.

"Good luck."

"Thank y..."

The man had vanished as suddenly as he'd appeared.

Boudica thought about the problem, watching her three charges so that no unwanted feasting took place. It didn't take her long to work out what was needed. She took the chicken across the moat, leaving the fox with the corn. Then she went back and fetched the corn. When she arrived with the corn, she picked up the chicken, and leaving the corn on it's own, went back for the fox, swapping it for the chicken. When the fox and the corn were together on the same side as the Pavilion, Boudica made one empty trip back and collected the chicken.

She was wondering what she was supposed to do with them once they were all on the far side, but no sooner had she cautiously stepped off the boat onto the safety of the bank than the strange man reappeared.

"Well done." he said, taking the chicken from her and setting it down next to the fox and the corn.

"You can think clearly, and you know how to pay attention, but do you know how to die?"

As he spoke the puzzle setter pulled a sword from beneath his frock coat, and thrust it into Boudica. The pain was sharp and sudden, her eyes widened and she emitted a thin wail as he pulled the sword free, and she collapsed before him. Boudica stared up uncomprehending as her vision sparkled and faded to darkness.

Consciousness returned, though not sight. Boudica was disoriented, and panic flowed through her. The pain was gone, but she found she could barely move. Arms were pressed to her sides, she couldn't turn over or lift her legs, and as she tried, a terrified Boudica began to fear that she had been buried alive. She opened her mouth to scream, or cry for help, she didn't know which, but her mouth was quickly filled with loose earth, and she choked.

Boudica worked out that she couldn't see because there was no light to see with, and tears ran down her face. She's managed to spit out most of the soil, but this trickling over her chin made her feel dirty and further added to her misery. She wondered how long it would take her to die like this. She'd known that you could fail the challenge of the Mindwalk, but never that it was fatal.

This must be part of the challenge. Boudica grasped the idea like a drowning woman grabbing at a log floating past, she clung to it. If it's a part of the challenge, then there must be a way to get out, to succeed, she reasoned. Trying to stay calm, Boudica became aware that she was not breathing.
How could she be alive and not breathing? It made no sense. How could she be dead, and yet still aware and thinking?

For a long but undetermined length of time Boudica's thoughts stuttered and revolved, she found it hard to concentrate. Repeatedly she told herself that she needed to think, so as to work out what was happening, what she should do. What was it her murderer had said?

"Do you know how to die?" that was it. Boudica asked herself the question, what did she know about death? She knew of course that everyone and everything died. Her father, and step siblings had all died. Boudica had mourned them, still was mourning Mary. It wasn't as though she wasn't aware of death.

But the strangely dressed man hadn't asked what she knew about death, he'd asked whether she knew how to die? Perhaps she was being pedantic about semantics. This line of thought led to more time passing, and Boudica noticed that she didn't feel hungry or thirsty, nor did she feel the need to urinate. This was interesting, and she wondered, not for the first time, if she was dead in the real world too.

It occurred to her to consider what she had read about death and dying. No two cultures agreed about what happens when you die, though many had a concept of an afterlife. Often there was someone to guide you to wherever it was you went, there was even a special name for that person, they were called a Psychopomp.

"Finally."

A hand took hers, threading strong fingers between her own. Boudica was pulled, and felt herself gliding easily through the darkness. The feeling of being confined passed away, and suddenly there was light. Blinking, Boudica took in the scene. Now she was standing in a huge cavern, so vast that she could not see its limits, which were occulted in shadowy darkness.

Through this cavern flowed a wide river. There was a huddle of people standing on the banks, most seemed to be waiting to cross. Studying them Boudica saw that some were boarding small boats, that were passing back and forth across the waters. Others waded into the water and swam or floated in the currents, which swept them along towards the far shore. A very few were standing a little way away from the water's edge, all of these looked too scared to attempt a crossing.

Boudica took all this in before wondering who had spoken to her and brought her here. Looking about she half expected to see the murdering stranger, but instead she saw a very strange group of men. One however stood out, he was not a young man, but looked well built and powerful. He wore skins of some animal, carried a bow and a club, and his skin was tanned and very dark. The strangest thing about his appearance were the long thin chains of gold and amber, that pierced his tongue. The other end of these were attached to the ears of the group of smiling men that surrounded him. Their eyes were all on him, as he watched Boudica calmly.

"Ogmios" Boudica whispered, and the god smiled acknowledging her as being correct.

Word count 1,931
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