“Your magic is an orchestra and you are the conductor.”
—Emily Goldstein, As quoted in "The Success of The Witness of Yhova" by Mary Trensen in the Wilding Journal (1964)
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10:19 WT, 7th of Marto, 1995 (4th of March, 1639)
Manfield Estate, Clarksville, Edwingburg, Potegir, Neragon
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After much deliberation, Evans Nott finally decided he should meet the son of Manfield in person. Not for any particular reason, after all, he could've simply sent an employee to handle the matter, but he wanted an excuse to simply take a break from the role of being Chief Director of VROEMG was more. It had been one of the reasons why he had stepped down from that position back in 1796 to focus more on the magical research in Site Alpha.
And that was why he found himself in the small town of Clarksville after a 2-hour flight from Site Alpha to Edwing and another 1-hour journey by train. It was a quaint and almost picturesque town, with old cobblestone streets lined with charming mock Jamian-style buildings.
Evans opted to walk the short distance from the train station to the Manfield Estate, enjoying the pleasant stroll through the town's sleepy streets.
Eventually, Evans reached the gates of the Manfield Estate. Behind it, stood a decently sized manor house surrounded by well-manicured gardens.
Pressing the intercom button beside the gate, Evans waited for a response.
"Good morning, sir. How may I assist you?" came a smooth voice through the speaker.
"Good morning," Evans replied, not looking at the intercom but instead directing his gaze towards the front door of the manor. "My name is Evans Nott. I'm here to meet with Herman Manfield."
There was a brief pause before the voice responded, "Mr. Manfield is not expecting— ah… please hold on a moment, sir."
"Of course." Evans waited patiently, his thoughts drifting as he observed the tranquil surroundings of the estate. The soft rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze and the distant chirping of birds created quite a calming atmosphere.
After a few moments, the intercom came back to life. "Mr. Nott, Mr. Manfield will see you. Please come in."
The gates slowly swung open automatically with a barely audible creek, allowing Evans to stroll into the estate. He walked up the winding path lined with short colourful flower bushes.
As he approached the front porch, the door swung open, revealing a tall, thin man in the doorway. The butler dressed impeccably in a slick white suit, bowed his head slightly as Evans approached.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Nott," the butler greeted him with a quivering smile. "Please, I’ll lead you to the drawing room, Mr. Manfield would be with you shortly."
Evans nodded slightly and he followed the man into the manor. After a short trek down a plainly decorated hallway, Evans was greeted by a warm homely room, with an empty fireplace dominating one side of the room.
"Please, make yourself comfortable, Mr. Nott," the butler said, almost nervously, gesturing towards a few armchairs near the fireplace. "Mr. Manfield will be with you shortly, would you like some tea?"
"Thank you," Evans replied lightly. "And no thank you. I'll wait for Mr. Manfield."
The butler nodded and left Evans alone in the drawing room.
The walls were quite simply decorated, Evans noticed idly. The walls were covered in plain soft-green wallpaper with no decoration save for a few vibrant flowers placed in large white pots that flanked the door frame leading to the hallway.
Just then, Evans heard the pitter-pattering of several small footsteps approaching quickly and a few young voices laughing as a small boy with dove-like wings rushed into the room, chased by a slightly older girl with a mischievous grin.
They both froze as they spotted Evans.
Evans stated after a while, "Hello."
The girl looked as if she was about to say something, but at that moment, another pair of footsteps and the tapping of a cane approached from the hallway.
It was Herman Manfield. He was a half-bald ageing man in his 60s, dressed in robes of rich burgundy. The man felt almost fragile as if his soul could drift away and vanish at any moment.
"Get out. "He grunted, and the boy and girl quickly scurried out of the room.
"Yours?" Evans inquired.
"My grand-niblings." He replied tersely, and he sat down in a chair opposite Evans.
"Well?" the old man stated rudely once he did. His tone was sharp and impatient. “What do you want.”
Evans was unfazed by Manfield's demeanour; he had dealt with worse. "Mr. Manfield," He began calmly. "We at VROEMG have discovered that the franchise your father has built seems to reflect the information some... strange individuals have said about the place they are from. Do you know what I am saying?"
Herman Manfield's expression shifted into that of a neutral one. He did not say anything for a moment.
Evans was about to speak again when Manfield finally responded. "My father was expecting your people to come knocking on his door sooner or later... but he did not expect it to take so long." Manfield chuckled to himself.
"What did he anticipate to do when we were to find him?"
Manfield grunted and leaned back in his chair. "You might already know – my father was not from this world. He often spoke about his world to my mother, my brother and I. He believed that one day, he would be reunited with his home, and he would bring us with him..." He shook his head wistfully. "But of course, he could never find a way."
Evans nodded slowly. "I'm sorry to hear that, could you speak more about your father? Why did he decide to publish stories based on his world?"
Manfield did not speak for a moment. "Before I answer that Mr. Nott, I want you to promise that nothing I say will be used against me or my family."
Evans inclined his head. "Deal." He said firmly, and he felt a part of his magic shift and lock in place with the spoken oath.
Manfield must have felt it too as he sighed like a hole had been deflated from his chest. "Let me start from the beginning... My father came from the year 2026 from Earth – his version of Earth – and arrived in the year 1913. He was 26 years old at the time."
He paused and seemed to contemplate something. He then whistled a quick note which caused a servant to bring him a glass of water. He took a small sip before continuing. "He was picked up by a travelling family – my mother's family – near Mt. Suascuir. He spoke in a language no one could understand and wore strange clothes that did not seem to belong to any known culture. They took him in and treated him as one of their own once the police could not determine his identity. I suppose they assumed he was a lost refugee from Eudocia.”
He took another sip of his water.
"I do not know any of the details of what happened after that. All I know is that they were rich, and my mother's family taught my father Neragese, helped him integrate into society, and managed to help forge a new identity for my father.”
"Did he tell them about his world?" Evans asked.
Manfield shook his head shakily. "No, only my mother. After all, who would believe him... Now where was I, ah yes... My mother was from this family and they fell in love. Then, the draft came with the Great War and my father was sent to Jukasa with the 92nd. I believe my father and mother married just before he was set to depart."
He took yet another sip of water.
"He lost a foot in '27 and was sent back home. He began writing about his home world as a coping mechanism, my mother was supportive of his creative outlet and encouraged him to share his stories with the world. I believe he published his first story in the local newspaper in 1933, it was quite popular here in Clarksville and it just kept gaining traction from there…" – he shrugged – "... and I suppose the rest is history."
Evans nodded. "I see, and may I ask where exactly your father came from in his world?”
Manfield frowned. “Wait one moment, Nott.” He whistled a note which summoned another servant. “Please fetch my father's journal from the library.”
The servant bowed and left.
“While we wait for your servant, might I ask you another question?” Nott asked.
Manfield grunted in affirmation.
“How could your father recall such detailed information about his world if he arrived at such a young age?"
Manfield sighed, running a hand through his almost non-existent hair. "That's a question that has evaded me and my brother for years," he admitted. "I do not really have an answer for you."
"I understand,” Evans replied with a nod.
A few moments later, the servant returned with a rather dog-eared notebook.
Manfield squinted, and flipped through it briefly before stating. “He was living in a city called Oxford in the country of the United Kingdom.”
Evans nodded to that. “Very well. Then I believe I have overstayed my welcome here.” He got up from his chair. “Thank you for being cooperative with me.”
Manfield smiled uncomfortably. "It was my pleasure."
"I'll be off then," Evans said, extending his hand to which Manfield didn't shake. Evans ignored the slight and withdrew the magic he had accidentally shrouded Manfield with.
If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
With a final nod, Evans exited the drawing room.
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13:14 WT, 8th of Marto, 1995 (8th of March, 1639)
Anomalous Containment Assembly Chamber, Central Subterranean Zone, Site Alpha, [Unknown County], Tirnikt, Neragon
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"It seems the entity I-01 is quite aware of our attempts to spy on it." Edwyn Breckon, the Head of Security for Site Alpha proclaimed from the podium.
There were worried murmurs among the assembly members, while Edwyn saw his boss, Herr Nott raise an eyebrow from his seat in the front row.
"Just last week, one of the members of the anomalous field team, one A-03 was confronted by I-01 while scouting for her location by itself. The team have reported the entity wished to deliver a message to us."
Nott's expression remained composed. "And what was the message?" he inquired, his voice steady.
Edwyn looked down at a piece of paper on the podium, then back up at the assembly. "The message was – and I'm quoting directly from what the team sent me – 'Tell your superiors that I do not want anything to do with them. What happened is long behind us. And if they dare to interfere with my plans, there will be consequences.'"
Another wave of murmurs spread through the assembly at the message.
"Did the team engage this entity?" A bald assembly member asked.
"No," Edwyn replied. "I-01 disappeared before the team could catch up with A-03."
Nott stood up from his seat, "Thank you, Head Breckon, we will have the rest of the day to think about the development and suggest possible courses of action in the evening session."
Edwyn bowed his head and walked back to his seat. The next thing on the agenda for the assembly was the ongoing contact mission to Japan, thus the handler for the mission, a burly man built like a refrigerator took his cue and descended from the benches of the assembly chamber to the stage.
"Good afternoon, members of assembly," he said, pulling out a wad of paper from his pocket and unfolding it. " I am Agent Caelum and I am the handler of the VROEMG mission to Japan. I have received reports on the 2nd that the team have met with the Prime Minister of Japan and the Japanese Cabinet. On assessing their reaction to Neragon as a whole. Many seem to be quite shocked by the appearance of our nation, even more so when the team mentioned our familiarity with magic. The rest of the session comprised entirely of the Japanese asking questions on Neragon and VROEMG. Our team, of course were forced to deflect several sensitive topics."
He paused, and then added. "Our team saw fit to inform the Prime Minister and Cabinet about the existence of alternate universes in the same meeting which led to an adjournment."
He stopped to look down at his paper, the continued. "The meeting resumed on the next day, our team asked several questions regarding the technological, political, and cultural aspects of Japan. Their answers mostly align with the writings of Subject A4826, also known as John Manfield besides several facts, the most notable including who the ruling Prime Minister is. The year Japan is from is the year 2015, while in A4826's writing, the furthest date in which Japan is shown is the year 2022. A4826's writing show that a man called Abe Shinzo would have been in power until 2020, whereas our team reported a different Prime Minister, Yamoya Anzai.”
"Neragese diplomats arrived on the 5th as foreseen. Thus, it is safe to say they are now aware of our presence in Japan. I suppose an inquiry from the government in the near future will be inevitable. Does anyone have any questions?"
"Will the details of the differences in the timeline be viewable?" a woman's voice from the assembly inquired.
Agent Caelum nodded. "All information will be available to all VROEMG members, expect a copy of the file in the archives soon."
When nobody else had any further questions, Nott stood up. "Thank you for your time, Agent Caelum, your report has been noted."
Caelum nodded his head shallowly and returned to his seat among the assembly members.
And on the meeting went. At one point, Nott took the stage to report on what he had learnt when visiting the Manfield estate. After which the meeting was called to a close for the day.
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19:47 WT, 11th of Marto, 1995 (11th of March, 1639)
The Frozen Salmon, Mugbeinn, Iarland, Tirnikt, Neragon
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Evans Nott stepped into the small restaurant and looked around. It was a dingy, and quiet place, with a few people scattered around, hunched over their meals. A mild scent of dried fish clung to the air like a permanent smog. The restaurant was old, it did not look like it had been renovated since the 19th century – and he knew why that was.
A pale man appeared from behind the counter, his hair was unkempt, and he looked bored for a split second until he saw who exactly had entered his establishment. His entire demeanour seemed to brighten as Evans approached him.
"Colonel, you actually came." the man said with a smile.
"Jan,” Evans replied with a smirk. “How many times do I have to say it, we aren't in the army anymore, call me Evans, or Director," He clasped Jan's hand firmly.
Jan chuckled, showing his fanged teeth. "Old habits die hard, Evans. But as you wish." He motioned for Evans to follow him to the back of the restaurant and into the much more lit up and modern-looking kitchen area where a few chefs were bustling about, preparing various dishes.
Evans had known Jan for centuries. He was a vampire, and had served together with Evans in both the First Northern War and the War of 1740. As two immortals, they had become quick friends when they had first met in 1711, a friendship that had since lasted.
"So, Jan, you asked for me."
Jan glanced around for a moment before answering. "Have you heard about the Parpaldian Empire?"
Evans raised an eyebrow. "It's the major native power to the east of us, but truthfully, I don't know anything else."
Jan nodded. "Well, information on the new world spreads surprisingly fast, it's described as roughly equivalent to our 18th century in terms of technology and architecture."
Evans furrowed his brows, then realised why Jan was talking about Parpaldia, and sighed. "You wish to see if they are just like us?"
Jan did not say anything.
"You wish to relive the past, satiate your nostalgia for a time when things were simpler, don't you? That's why you asked me to come visit you – you want my advice."
Jan was silent for some time, but eventually said. "Don't you ever feel the same, Colonel?"
Evans did not bother to correct him.
"Sometimes," he admitted. "But the past is in the past, and we must focus on the present.”
"Then you are a much better man than what I ever will be." Jan stated with a sigh, watching as the chefs went about their business.
"I am not saying you cannot go, Jan." Evans said cautiously. "But you shouldn't let your nostalgia cloud your judgement.”
Jan hummed. "Perhaps, but I still feel I should at least see what it's like there. Maybe it's time for a change of scenery, you know. I haven't really travelled outside the country since my time in the army."
"What might your mother say." Evans said with a smirk.
Jan barked out a surprised laugh. "I never thought you would make a joke.”
He looked thoughtful for a moment. “I remember she told me before she got the stake to the heart" – he paused, and spoke in a faux Tawslish [Romanian] accent – "'Jan, arn’ Enescu who dohs noht warnder eez ohnly reading one page of dee book of lyy’f.'"
Evans continued to smirk. "Your mother would have encouraged you to travel to Parpaldia it seems."
Jan nodded thoughtfully. "She would have I suppose."
They stood together in the kitchen in companionable silence, watching the chefs’ activity.
"Would you like a drink," Jan asked suddenly.
"Tea would be fine.”
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16:16 ENT (12:16 WT), 12th of Marto, 1995 (12th of March, 1639)
NCBS Tanna, off the coast of the Kingdom of Quila
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The government had ordered Turmburg to properly contact a country on the Rodenius Continent: Quila, a kingdom run by what the natives call 'beast people'. A term with quite some negative connotations the Apostle would say, but maybe the world meant something more sanguine in this world.
Turmburg had sent various reconnaissance planes to the continent before, but they had never directly contacted the inhabitants. Now with the government's orders, as spies from the Agency of Central Security had discovered a large oil reserve on and off the country's coast, they had to.
This was why a small fleet of three Coast Guard vessels, led by the NCBS Tanna had been dispatched to make contact with the Quilans. The Apostle eventually decided to join them as well, as he himself was quite curious about the natives and their culture.
After a while, they could see the peaks of large jagged sand dunes rise up from below the horizon.
The Apostle observed from the bridge of the NCBS Tanna as they approached the coastline of Quila. The afternoon sun beat down relentlessly, and the air was thick with the scent of salt.
Around him, various crew members went about their tasks, and one of the assigned envoys to Quila, a young man by the name of Alex Russell, stood next to one of the doorways, fidgeting with the collar of his uniform.
He paid them no mind and focused instead on the approaching coastline. It was a giant desert and seemed to be completely devoid of life. But that was not where they were going, the capital of Quila was a bit further north.
After at least an hour, the coastline began to give way to a beautiful port city. It was built around a scrawny river which emptied into a bay surrounded by desert as far as the eye could see.
The buildings of the city reminded the Apostle slightly of Calidum [Egyptian] architecture, with their plain sandstone façades and densely packed streets.
"Mr. Apostle, do you see that thing up there?" The Apostle heard the captain say.
Snapping out of his reverie, the Apostle stepped to the front of the bridge and looked up out the window where the captain was pointing: it was a dragon.
"The Quilans have spotted us it seems." the Apostle remarked, observing the winged creature soaring overhead.
"Ah," the captain replied, squinting at the dragon. "Let's hope it would be a friendly encounter."
The fleet moved into the small harbour of the city. On the quayside, a small crowd had gathered while a bit further back, a group of what seemed to be Quilan guards ran hastily towards the docks.
There were galleys and the occasional galleon-like ship docked alongside smaller fishing vessels. Thus, there were luckily a few spots where the Coast Guard vessels could moor.
The Apostle watched the quay with keen interest as the ships manoeuvred into position. The self-transfigurating gang plank appeared, connecting the NCBS Tanna to the quay, causing a few of the beast people on the shore to jump back, either in surprise or from fear of being trampled by it.
"Alex!" Someone from outside the bridge called. "We should be preparing for disembarkation."
Alex started, and quickly made his way towards the door, smoothening his uniform as he went.
Taking it as his cue to join the deck, the Apostle followed him out.
They were joined by two other envoys and a dark-skinned translator.
"Is everything ready?" The Apostle asked one of the envoys, Jack.
The bespectacled man hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Yes, your Holiness."
"Then let's go," the translator interrupted, already stepping onto the gangplank.
The diplomatic group and the Apostle followed him down the gangway onto the shore.
At that moment, the guards from the city reached their location. Their animalistic features made them quite an alien sight. They did not raise their weapons, yet their body language suggested that they were cautious. The Apostle noted.
A rather tall and muscular individual with a lion-like head, possibly the leader, said something in a guttural voice.
The translator stepped forward and spoke rapidly in (presumably) the same language the Quilans were speaking.
The guards were still cautious but the leader nodded slowly when the translator stopped speaking and gestured for them to follow.
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Extract from John D. Manfield - Omnipædia
John Daniel Manfield NE IL (17 Pusper 1887 – 26 Memesa 1981) was a Neragese writer, geologist and cartographer. He is most well known for being the creator of the Earth franchise and the author of 7 novels and 23 short stories set in the fictional world.
Little is known about his personal life. No evidence of where he was born or who his parents were was ever found. The leading theory of his early life, which is also endorsed by his two sons, Ronald and Herman Manfield, poses that he was from an ill-fated refugee group from either Hernslavia or the Omaran Empire. However, this theory remains speculative, as there are no definitive records to confirm his origins. Manfield himself rarely spoke about his past. Publishing his first short story in 1933, Manfield continued to write until his death in 1981.
After Manfield's death, his son Ronald Manfield published a series of works based on his father's extensive notes and unpublished manuscripts and oversaw the production of numerous film adaptations of Earth.
John D. Manfield. Omnipædia. 15:39, Retrieved 14 Marto, 1995 from https://gbm.omnipaedia.org/w/index.php?titel=John_D._Manfield&altid=13427.
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Extract from English language - Omnipædia
The English language is one of the constructed languages devised by John D. Manfield for use in his sci-fi novels set on Earth, primarily in Europe and North America. English is one of many languages on Earth based off of real languages including Ivoan, Neragese, and Cavalan. A historical counterpart known as Old English was also developed by Manfield to further improve on the lore of Earth.
The short film A Concerning Commotion in Canterbury is the first production that is primarily in English (only the narrator speaks Neragese) made in 1994. This was soon followed by numerous works spoken mainly in the constructed language, ushering in a new wave of activity in the Earth fandom.
As of 1991, a small number of people are capable of speaking in English and have been known to be used in events and conventions dedicated to Manfields work. Around 900 people are considered fluent in the language while 1,400 are capable of reading and writing it.
English language. Omnipædia. 15:39, Retrieved 14 Marto, 1995 from https://gbm.omnipaedia.org/w/index.php?titel=English_language&altid=19373.