Apologies and Sneak Peeks

To my brilliant and very much appreciated readers – lend me your ears… or eyes,

               

       April has been an extremely crazy month for me and my collaborators – and for those of you I don’t actually know by either name or screen name, I want to extend my sincerest apologies for the delay in blog and chapter updates. It pains me to report that I do not have a brand new chapter 6 to post at this time. Directly following this message you will find a “sneak peek” to the exciting and upcoming chapter 6  along with a tid bit of art work that will accompany the final chapter 6 post, which I hope will be out before the end of May. The new chapter is outlined and as you will *fingers crossed* read, it has a start. I just have not been able to invest the proper time and concentration into the new chapter that it demands and I hope, deserves. I can say at this time it is looking to be a lengthy chapter, so I hope that, in addition to its continuity will make it worth the wait. As for the “sneak peek” it is unedited. My collaborators include a very good editor, and another very insightful test reader – neither of which this blog could exist without – but alas neither can be expected to edit blank pages, so until the final product is done, bear with me typos and all. Some of my very early readers may well remember this is pretty much how it all began – poor typing, grammar, spelling and all.

Anyways, once more from the top; Thank You all for your continued visitation and interest and above all at these times – your patience.  Now without further ado or hesitation;

Chapter Six: A Time Remembered and Misplaced

“Camelot, knights, dragons… King Arthur? All of this is actually happening?”  Tom asked a he swallowed hard a final gulp of water. Staring down at a plate that once held a fairly generous amount of food that he has since quickly devoured. Across from him sits the beautiful and stoic Morgana Penn- dragon, whose account of the lands and of the world that Tom Jackman has just woken into has left him, of all people in some disbelief.

“As opposed to the alternatives you've offered up? You speak of missing memories, while also speak of worlds beyond any I have seen and boxes that as larger on the inside,” Morgana replied as she produced from her pocket a small digital wrist watch, though what it was exactly she knew not, only it was on his person when she discovered him. “I’m inclined to believe you. Not that it holds much weight for you now, if what you seek is held so deeply within the castle walls.” She added as she held up the digital device, studying it. “Intriguing little device – what is it exactly?”

“It’s called a watch; helps track the movement of time. Not that unlike a sundial or shadow clock – if you have such devices of your own.” Tom replied, honestly. If everything around him was actually happening and not some vivid dreamscape, he felt he was beyond the point of concern for histories sake, besides in his mind, not that the idea of time travel ever crossed it with serious thought, but when it had he always been more a fan of the idea that paradoxes would right themselves in the end – an idea his mind was fully embracing in order to keep from becoming over whelmed at this point.

“It’s unlike any shadow clock I have ever encountered – what keeps it progressing?” She asked, her guarded demeanor faltering in way of her curiosity.

“An alkaline battery – a tiny energy source of sorts, apparently a good one too,” Tom answered looking upon the screen as it flashed with each changing second. “I would have had another device on me – a small long box or rectangular shaped on, same sort of glowing screen – you didn't happen to come across it, did you? It would have been in my shirt pocket.” He asked as he looked over his shirt, it was basic button down, but stained with blood, unlikely his, and torn and tattered and his pocket a clear victim of the troubles that had fallen upon him.

“No this was all I found upon you,” Morgana replied truthfully, Tom was worse for wear by the time she ran across him in the surrounding woods, unconscious and clearly  victim or victor of struggles.

Just then the watch’s digital face seemed to flicker and dance, the images becoming mixed and chaotic as if for a moment it was struggling against some force of magnetism. Before Morgana even has a chance to question the odd activity, Tom is already to his feet. “I need to be locked up; you need to lock me up now,”

“I have you entirely under control – you’re as good as locked up now,” Morgana answered as she too stood from her seat. His sudden shift in manner and call to urgency struck her as odd given the last hour she had spent conversing with him as he regained his strength from her hospitality.

Tom shook his head as he persisted to argue with her “Me yes, but not him. You need to lock me up, we need to lock him up before he gets here – which way back to the cells?” he asked, his tone growing more panicked.

“I don’t understand,” Morgana admitted her confusion as she started to lead him back through the corridors to a small row of rooms that she had originally retrieved him from.

“You soon will” Tom replied as he pushed his  way into one of the cells, shutting the door behind him “Lock it, lock it good and go  - go and stay away. And whatever you do don’t tell him anything. I don’t know what he knows; I think it’s only fair I keep him at the same disadvantage,” he reasoned as he took a step back, closing his eyes.

Morgana did as asked, locking the cell door behind him, but failed to walk away after all “Don’t mistake my hospitality for submission, I take orders from no one,” she insisted.

Tom, still standing in the dark cell with his eyes shut and his head down, took one last deep breath in and exhaled a finally reply “These aren't orders, Morgana, just suggestion.” And with that he exhaled a final breath which was followed by a long pause. Morgana looked on, confused by what she was, or was not seeing. No shift in the air, no sound, no interruption in the silence that surrounded them. It was dark, very dark and she couldn't really see much of the figured that stood captive before her, but somehow – perhaps a trick of her eyes, but the shadowy outline appeared to change, to shift ever so slightly in length. It surely must be a trick, Morgana thought to herself as she turned to pull an unlit torch from a nearby. With small whisper she brought the cold dead torch into fiery new life. Returning back to the cell, holding up the torch to illuminate the figure that stood only a few feet away only to reveal what appeared to be more tricks. There stood Tom Jackman as he placed himself just shy of the gated bars, but something was different, several things appeared different.  He, in fact was taller, his hair darker and his hair line reached further forward than before, his chin bore a cleft that wasn't there before. He even appeared leaner, his clothing still torn, no longer fit as they previously had before. Finally, he lifts his head to the new light and opens his eyes. The eyes he reveals now only cement the reality of the other changes – dark, cold and black as the night sky, entirely unlike the pale greens ones that had clearly been replaced. 

Morgana’s demeanor shifted once more, she was still clearly as confused as before, but now her guard was once more being raised. “He was telling the truth – you’re not him, are you?”

The new man stared coldly back at her as a wiry smile pulled at his lips and spread to a full baring grin, not entirely unlike that of a hyena who had just stumbled across some prey “You’re a fast one.”  

Fan Art By: Lyndsey Gerlach 4/2012

"John" 

(and yes that means Sherlock will be presented with the completed chapter 6)