We walked north along the woodland path and were soon in the Great Grasslands. The grass on either side of the path came up to my elbows and would tickle me whenever a slight breeze hit. A mile or so to the west was a pristine turquoise sea that extended to the horizon and sparkled in the sunlight. To the east, the land sloped downward, its jovial green color fading to horrible brown several miles away, where the grasslands transitioned into the Avarian Desert.
Way, way off to the northeast was the silhouette of a colossal black mountain. I couldn’t see how tall this mountain was from here because a large mass of thick clouds obscured much of it from view. These clouds were made of the same smoke I had seen in my dad’s eyes, but at this volume, they were even more heartrending. They convinced me that all life in all dimensions was hollow, and they made me want to weep.
I quickly turned away and focused instead on the idyllic scenery of the grasslands as we followed the trail’s lazy bends, dips, and hills in the warm sunshine. I avoided returning my gaze to the black mountain as if my life depended on it.
After a couple hours, we reached a part of the grasslands populated by berry bushes, peanut plants, and other varieties of snack-yielding vegetation. Everything on offer was splendid, but the peanuts were especially delightful.
As we walked, I meditated on how sad the life of a peanut would be if they had sentience. The two siblings inside the shell are destined to spend their whole lives apart, only to be united by being mashed in someone’s teeth or whatever they use to make peanut butter.
I shuddered at the thought of Mag and me being mashed ourselves before reconciling and decided to start a friendly chat with her. However, I’ve never been good at starting conversations, so it took me an hour to conjure up a sentence.
I ended up saying, “It feels like we left the forest yesterday, right?” I thought that sounded like something someone might say.
But Mag just said to shut up.
My dad then complained that his feet hurt and asked where the hell was this damned Poppadom Village.
“Parumpurra Village,” I corrected him.
“Ah, whatever the fuck,” he said in that dismissive way people do when they find out they’re wrong about something—as if the only way they could ever possibly be wrong about anything is if that thing was unworthy of their remembering it. That kind of attitude annoys me.
I decided it wasn’t worth talking to anybody and went back to my peanuts.
We didn’t encounter any enemies in the Great Grasslands. Occasionally, a field mouse would stray onto the path in front of us, or perhaps a friendly bee would come buzzing by, but they didn’t attack us. Based on the overall tranquility of the Great Grasslands, I concluded that this area was one big safe zone.
By late afternoon, we came upon a steep drop in the road, at the bottom of which was an extensive area cleared of all grass and bushes. The clearing’s perimeter was lined with rows of straw huts, which surrounded a busy town square.
I felt like a giant as we walked through the streets of four-foot-tall huts and past a little sign that read, “Welcome to Parampurra Village! 5 days without a sand ogre attack.”
The town square was bustling with bipedal housecats donning human clothing. In the center of the square was a large fountain that the villagers used as a public drinking pool. There was also a kitten doing a backstroke in it.
“Dammit, Aiden! How many times do I have to tell you not to swim in there?” his mom shouted. She tried to nab him but fell in, getting her housecoat soaked and causing an eruption of laughter from the nearby villagers. She took it all in good stride, though. She retrieved her son and said they should get home and she would make him some toast with marmalade.
Many more villagers were visiting the kiosks that lined the town square. Among the shop owners were a one-eyed seamstress, a husband and wife who sold rodents they hunted in the Great Grasslands, a shifty-looking character under a sign that read, “ITEMS FROM ABRODD,” and a balloon salesman who kept popping the balloons as he went to tie them and each time this happened would admit that this was the wrong line of work for him.
There was also a booth marked with a red cross, behind which sat an elderly gray cat wearing a white doctor’s coat and a stethoscope around her neck. Behind her were shelves of bottles filled with herbs and potions.
The buzz of the villagers softened as more of them became aware of us. Many of them had stopped their activities to stare at us. I was unsure whether we were in danger or if they thought they were. Either way, we needed Dr. Nibbles’s help, so the last thing I wanted was to startle these cats. We had to treat this situation very delicately.
But then my dad barged past Mag and me, shouting, “Where the hell is Dr. Nipples?! Huh?! Where the tits is she?!”
My dad must have forgotten what red crosses symbolize because instead of going over to the stall that clearly belonged to the doctor, he began picking up villagers at random and shaking them violently, demanding that they bring him to “Dr. Nipples.”
After half a dozen such shakings, Dr. Nibbles stood up and cried, “Stop! I do not know of this Dr. Nipples, but I am also a doctor, and I may be able to help you. I’ll do anything you want if you promise not to harm us.”
My dad was suddenly very proud of himself. “See that?” he said, tossing his most recent victim over his shoulder. “That’s what you gotta do if you wanna succeed in life. Don’t be afraid to get what you want.”
“But you scared these poor things,” Mag said. “Look at them.” Every last one of them was trembling, standing in pools of their own urine, their saucer-like eyes filled with terror.
“That’s their problem, not mine,” my dad said as we walked to the doctor’s stall.
I couldn’t wait to restore my dad’s memories. I don’t like people who extract pleasure from intimidating others, and it broke my heart to see my dad act like one of them.
As we reached the doctor’s kiosk, my dad pounded his fist on it. “What did you do with my memories, Nipples?” he said through clenched teeth.
Dr. Nibbles was visibly terrified, which made my dad visibly pleased with himself, which made me even more disgusted with him.
“I don’t have your memories! Honest!” the doctor said.
“Oh, yeah? Prove it. Where was I born?”
“I don’t know! I swear it!”
“Okay, fine, your story checks out,” my dad said, “but I still want to punch Santa Claus in the face.”
My dad was deteriorating. In the forest, at least the offensive things he said made sense, but now he was coming up with sentences like that. This worried me, as it meant he might soon lose his mind completely, and then there would be no saving him, talismans or no talismans.
I took over with the talking from there. “Dr. Nibbles,” I began, “my dad has lost his memories, and something has affected his personality. Believe it or not, he used to be gentle and kind.”
As I spoke, my dad dropped to his hands and knees to criticize an ant that zigzagged along the ground. “Figure out where the hell yer goin’!” he shouted at it.
“And now he’s this,” I said, motioning to him with my hand.
“Oh, dear,” the doctor said severely. “This might not be a simple case of memory loss. I fear he has been infected.”
“Infected? By what?”
The doctor motioned for me to come closer. Then, in a low voice, so as to not alarm the villagers, she asked if I had recently seen any smoke in my dad’s eyes.
I said I had seen smoke in his eyes just that morning. And that it made me want to cry, if that helped.
The doctor nodded and said, in a very serious tone, “You must avoid that man at all costs. He has been infected by Vulgra.”
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“What’s Vulgra?” I asked.
“Vulgra is the smoke-like entity that hangs above Misery Peak. Vulgra infects and feeds off of the souls of the damned, and it is consuming your father’s soul as we speak. Infected individuals gradually become the worst versions of themselves, and amnesia is a common side effect. That is why your father remembers nothing and is acting not at all like himself.
“I must warn you: Although Vulgra infections are not contagious, it is dangerous to be near an infected person. Once Vulgra finishes feeding on a soul, all that’s left of that person is pure evil, and they snap into a murderous rampage. Then, when they run out of people to murder, they kill themselves.”
“There’s a cure for Vulgra, though, right?” I asked.
“I’m afraid not. There’s no easy way to say this: Your father is going to die very soon. All you can do is remove him from society and let the process unfold somewhere far away, where he cannot harm anyone other than himself.”
“No,” I said. “I can’t accept that. There must be something we can do.”
The doctor sighed sympathetically. “I’m sorry, but once Vulgra has infected someone, there is nothing that can be done. I must insist that you remove your father from our village immediately. The villagers will remove him by force if they have to. And, trust me, you don’t want that. We’re not always as cute as we look.”
I had no words. I didn’t know what I would do, but I refused to abandon my dad.
From behind me, Mag put a hand on my shoulder. I removed it and whipped around to face her. “I swear to God, if you tell me not to worry because he’s not my dad...”
“For fuck’s sake, Emerson! You need to get your head out of your ass and let go of this fantasy.”
“It’s not a fantasy! He’s my dad, and he needs my help. I don’t care what you do. You can go to Zolptoria if you want, but I’m taking my dad to go get help from someone else.”
“You know he’s going to kill you if you do that, right?”
“I don’t care. It’s called sticking with the people you care about. You should try it sometime.”
I was so mad I was shaking. Or at least I thought I was. It turns out the ground was quaking because a ten-foot-tall ogre made entirely of sand had stormed the village. It was as ugly as any ogre you’d seen and wore the expected lone loincloth. And though the gruesome abomination was constructed from sand, the hot desert sun had baked it, making it as solid as a brick.
The villagers scrambled and ran to their huts, shouting, “Sand ogre! Sand ogre!”
However, their homes were not ogre-proof, and the sand ogre easily tore the roof off one of the huts near the town square. The cats who lived in it ran outside. Two of them fled to safety in their neighbors’ huts, but the third—Aiden from the fountain—was snatched up by the sand ogre.
It held Aiden by the tail, dangling the defenseless kitten in front of its face as it licked its lips. Aiden hissed and spit and clawed at the sand ogre’s hand, but his claws could not penetrate its tough skin.
I didn’t want this kitten to get eaten, but I also wasn’t about to step in and put my own life at risk to save that of someone I didn’t even know. What kind of idiot would do something like that? No, I was smart, and so I hid with Dr. Nibbles behind her stall.
Unwisely, Mag sprinted to the center of the town square and shouted, “Hey! Leave that cat alone!” drawing the sand ogre’s attention.
The sand ogre was very displeased. “Who dares disturb my snack time?” it growled in its gravelly voice.
“Me!” Mag yelled. The sand ogre glared at Mag as it stepped into the town square with her, but she wasn’t frightened. “If you’re so hungry, why don’t you come here, and I’ll give you a couple knuckle sandwiches, you fat, Shrek-ass-lookin’ piece of trash?”
Aiden took advantage of the distraction, wriggling free of the sand ogre’s grasp and fleeing to safety.
The sand ogre scowled at Mag. “Oh, you’re going to regret that. Now YOU must be my snack!”
It ran and lunged at Mag, but she dodged it as it reached for her. Then she ran to the ITEMS FROM ABRODD stand and grabbed a bucket. The sand ogre chased her, running right through the kiosk and making a mess of everything. It tripped over the clutter and fell onto its stomach. Mag dashed to the fountain and scooped up a bucketful of water.
The sand ogre returned to its feet and approached Mag again. This time, as it reached for her, she splashed the bucketful of water on its elbow.
The sand ogre roared in pain and stumbled around as if it were drunk. Then it fell to its knees. “Damn you!” it bellowed. “How did you know water to my left elbow was my weakness?” It disintegrated and was soon nothing but a pile of sand. The loincloth inexplicably vanished.
Unbeknownst to Mag, the villagers had been watching through their windows. Purring loudly, they emerged from their homes and returned to the town square to show their appreciation. Many of them rubbed up against Mag, and she scratched them behind their ears. They loved it.
Dr. Nibbles and I joined the crowd. “In all my years,” the doctor said, “I’ve never seen someone defeat a sand ogre so easily. I’m curious myself: How did you know water to its left elbow was its weakness?”
“I’m not exactly sure,” Mag said. “When I looked at it, something just told me that it was vulnerable against water and that its left elbow was its weakest point. It must be another feature of the bracelet.” As she said this, Mag held up her arm to show the doctor the Knowledge Bracelet.
The doctor’s expression suddenly changed. She was most intrigued. “You’re saying this bracelet told you what to do?”
“I think so.”
“But that can’t be. Unless... By any chance, did the trees of Desolation Woods offer this bracelet to you?”
“Yeah, actually, they did. They said we could keep it for beating the Mother Araknor.”
“The trees of Desolation Woods spoke to you?” The doctor asked.
“Yeah. And it’s actually called Devotion Woods now.”
“Fascinating! Just like in the legend.”
“What legend?” Mag asked.
“There’s a legend about this bracelet. The Bracelet of Knowing, I believe it’s called.”
“I think it’s actually the Knowledge Bracelet,” I pointed out.
“Ah, whatever the fuck,” the doctor said, brushing her ignorance away with an easy wave of her paw. “I always thought it was just a myth, but if the legend of this bracelet is true, then the other legends may also be true. And, if that’s the case, there might be a way for you to save your father after all.”
Dr. Nibbles invited Mag and me to her house. We peered in through the window as she went inside and retrieved a thick book.
“This is an ancient book containing various myths and legends,” she said. “I always assumed they were tall tales, intended primarily to entertain or teach lessons. But if the legend of the talking trees and the Knowledge Bracelet is true, who knows what’s possible? The legend of interest to you is the Legend of the Dream Ring. If the Dream Ring exists, you may be able to use it to wish for your father to be cured of his infection.”
She flipped through her book, found the entry she was looking for, and read us the Legend of the Dream Ring. The key takeaway was that the Dream Ring was located in the Avarian Desert. Specifically, it was inside a pyramid near the center of the desert, where it was guarded by a very honorable skeleton. This skeleton would present the Dream Ring to anyone who could survive something called “the trial.”
If one could obtain the Dream Ring, it would grant them one wish. Once that wish was made, it could not grant another wish to anyone for a hundred years. The Dream Ring’s power had other limitations as well. You couldn’t wish anyone or anything to unwillingly perform certain actions (e.g., to commit murder) or assume certain states (e.g., to be nonexistent or to fall in love). If not for these limitations, Dr. Nibbles would have had us wish to rid this world of Vulgra entirely instead of merely releasing my father from its grip.
Dr. Nibbles also informed us that many people had sought the Dream Ring, and every last one of them had gone mad by the time they returned. If they returned at all. Which they almost never did. The few who did return would ramble on about this trial, but they were never coherent enough for Dr. Nibbles to make any sense of what the trial might be.
When the doctor finished, I thanked her for everything and said me and my dad should get going before his infection got any worse.
“I’m coming with you,” Mag said.
“Really?” I said. “Why the sudden change of heart?”
“Oh, I’m not coming along for your benefit. Or Sir’s. I’m doing this for me. Because I could never forgive myself if I could have prevented another death and didn’t do anything about it. Just because I’m mad at you doesn’t mean I’m going to let you wander off into a desert alone with a potentially murderous lunatic.”
I instantly felt safer. I almost told Mag so, but then I remembered how heartless she had been lately. So, instead, I said, “That will be fine.”
The doctor shifted uneasily in the awkwardness of our exchange. “Before you go, I feel I must say this: Be sure to say goodbye to each other before you step foot in the Avarian Desert. Say goodbye like it’s the last time you’ll ever see each other. Because it very well may be.”
We thanked the doctor again for her help and went to collect my dad. We entered the town square and spotted him by the fountain. He hadn’t stopped criticizing that ant, even through the sand ogre attack and everything.
As we reached him, we were approached by a clowder of kittens. They asked what we were up to and were heartbroken when we said we were going into the desert. They idolized Mag for her heroism and didn’t want her to leave, but they understood when she explained why she couldn’t stay.
Then one of the kittens raised a paw in the air and said, “Idea!” They formed a huddle, and when they had ended their discussion, the cat with the idea said for us to wait here a minute.
The kittens ran to the balloon stand and purchased as many balloons as they could afford (which had not yet been blown up or popped by the salesman). Then they returned to the fountain, filled the balloons with water, and presented them to us.
“The desert’s got lots of sand ogres,” the idea-kitten said. “You can use these to fight them.”
We thanked the kittens as we (including my dad) filled our empty item slots with water balloons. The kittens would have a water balloon war with what was left over.
We were now about as prepared as we could ever hope to be for whatever awaited us in the Avarian Desert.