Introduction. six months before the present day._The overworld

Introduction

Six months before the current day.

As the sun bid farewell to the spring afternoon, it cast a glittery, peaceful sheen over the ocean, masking the strange happenings on its surface. A nondescript boat silently glided gently over the water, a tiny speck of black against the vast expanse. Two figures lounged in the boat, silhouetted against the setting sun, their faces unreadable. Both sported matching unwashed- white cloaks, their hoods thrown casually over their shoulders. Their attention was solely on the three small bags of grain-like substance between them.

Four cloaked men in black robes, their faces hidden by matching hoods, controlled the small boat with an ease that spoke of routine. Their silence was a stark contrast to the duo clad in stained white robes, as they sat at the front of the boat chattering away, their tones tinged with an undertone of fear.

"We should scatter these things all around," suggested the smaller of the two, her fingers sifting through the grains. They felt warm, almost as if they were alive. "One bag to the front, and one to each side. You know, make a three point arc."

"Nah, I say we dump them all in one spot.” He paused to sit up straight after slouching for the last 30 minutes. “We’ll make it like a hammer," he said, his eyes glued to the sack he was holding..

"Oh, “we’ll make it like a hammer,” she mocked, “you don't ieven know what these things do!" she scoffed.

“ Actually, I do.“ He looked at the other with a smug expression on his face, that failed to conceal his unease. “I didn’t want to tell you, but this morning I heard her talking to one of the sergeants about our mission.“ He now looked a little afraid as he peered over his shoulder at the oarsmen, making sure they were not listening.

“You wont believe this, “ he paused and inhaled, looking uncomfortable, He cleared his throat before continuing. “There is some sort of city or civilisation or something miles below us sitting on the sea floor. There are hundreds of thousands of people in this place, maybe even millions, and they have been there for thousands of years. Apparently they have never been out of its confines. I heard her say its impossible to enter or leave.”

She sat on the wooden plank staring at her offsider, her mouth fixed open, giving no clue of her rapidly rising distress other than the beads of sweat on her forehead.

He glanced over, again at the oarsmen to confirm they were not being overheard.. He now whispered, “I don’t know any more about this place. Maybe it’s all underwater, and they swim around like ‘monkey fish’ or something, maybe there’s an air bubble and they breathe air like us. I really don’t know.“ He paused again, looking nervous. These three sacks contain some magical thing or worm or something that shoots down to the ‘civilzation’, and over time, ruins the walls …. and if this is to go unchecked, the whole place should be flooded and destroyed, causing a mass evacuation of the population, though I have a feeling she doesn’t want to destroy the place, she just wants them down there to think that she does. I couldn’t hear that well, but I reckon she wants something from them, and is now trying to scare the ba-heejuths out of them… you know …as a bargaining chip.”

She tried to say something, but no noise emanated from her lips.

“I have no idea why she wants to do this, but I got the impression it was pretty important to her.”

Their discussion, now more emotionally charged, continued, their voices filled with confusion and fear. It was clear that they had a bond, a bond that only twins could share, united by common destiny and a true camaraderie.

Meanwhile, the guys in black remained silent, moving in harmony. Their movements were robotic, pulling and pushing the oars with a steady rhythm, their muscles flexing with each stroke. They were silent machines, executing their orders without any interaction..

“I feel so craven saying this.” he said in a low mumbling voice. He paused to play with a button on his sleeve. “We have to continue with the plan regardless,” he whispered, “or all hell will break loose.” His sister, her brow creased with angst, slowly nodded , “yes I agree - . I can’t even imagine what would happen if we abandoned this now, but if it is just a scare tactic, and not a death blow, I can live with that … at least for the time being.

He slowly nodded his head in agreement, while transferring his gaze downwards to his worn leather boots, then up to the sea, without choosing a point to fix upon.. He sat still, his eyes unblinking, not focusing.. He remained still, as if he were paying homage to the broken contract between himself and the vast ocean surrounding him, unfathomable in its power and terrifying in its willingness to extract revenge. It occurred to him that if the sea were a beast, he was as good as stabbing it, not in the back, but openly in the chest for all to see. When the boat rocked with what felt like malevolent intent, he was dragged out of his reflective state.

The boat settled a few seconds later, as if it were saying, “That’s just a reminder, Mr filthy cloak to you and your equally filthy cloaked sister, If you upset me and my god, the ocean,it won't be pretty …Just you watch it.”

Stolen novel; please report.

After two or three minutes of silence, the brother raised his hand, signaling the rowers to stop. He traced his finger over a hand drawn map.

"Do you think this is a good spot?" he asked, uncertainty creeping into his voice.

"Maybe," his sister shrugged. She lowered her voice to a whisper, “hopefully its not a good spot”

He nodded his head before she had finished her sentence. "Yes, this map is a joke. Who can blame me if I get the drop off point wrong?."

"Well, this spot is as good as any," she said, loud enough for everyone to hear,. "Let's do it. Third and last time,” She lowered her voice to a whisper again, “And let’s forget about those different patterns we were discussing before!” her brother nodded in agreement, “that goes without saying,” he mumbled under his hand. “ Why do you think I suggested the hammer pattern? It was a terrible idea!“

They both rose, holding their arms out for balance and gathered the sacks, their movements mirrored. One by one, they tipped the sacks over the side of the boat, letting the grains tumble into the water. The grains quickly clumped together and morphed into something that looked like spiral worms. These ‘newborn’ worms rotated, their speed accelerating until they were a collective blur , and, as if they were one conscious being, they suddenly plunged together under the surface, and out of sight.

As the twins watched the sea revert to its peaceful state, they were troubled that their ‘worm creations’ were now racing towards the seafloor to fester havoc and destruction.

"Do you know what those things really are?" she asked, feeling cold, slipping her hand into her sleeve.

"How would I know? She never tells us anything, other than what we are supposed to do,” He repositioned himself on the bench, “We can never talk about this, unless we are alone,” he whispered under his cupped hand.

“ I mean it.”

“ I know, and I agree. I feel like such a coward.” She paused to position her hood on her head. “Do we have any choice in the matter? “ , he affirmed.

She nodded and whispered into her sleeve, ” What do you think she'd do if we refused, or dumped these things in the checkered forest?"

"I don't even want to think about it," he said, shuddering.

"You just did," she teased.

"You are SO hilarious," he mocked,

They sat in an unsettled silence as the boat turned back, the spring evening continuing as if nothing untoward had happened.

They now had a secret, a secret they would never reveal to anybody or anything, other than the emerging stars, silent witnesses to this peaceful, yet troubled spring evening.

Her brother slowly nodded his head in agreement, while transferring his gaze downwards to his worn leather boots, then up to the sea, without choosing a point to fix upon. He sat still, his eyes unblinking, not focusing. He remained unmoving, as if he were paying homage to the broken contract between himself and the vast ocean surrounding him, unfathomable in its power and terrifying in its willingness to extract revenge. It occurred to him that if the sea were a beast, he was as good as stabbing it, not in the back, but openly in the chest for all to see. When the boat rocked with what felt like malevolent intent, he was dragged out of his reflective state.

After two or three minutes of silence, the brother raised his hand, signaling the rowers to stop. He traced his finger over a hand drawn map.

"Do you think this is a good spot?" he asked, uncertainty creeping into his voice.

"Maybe," his sister shrugged. She lowered her voice to a whisper, “hopefully not.”

He nodded his head before she had finished her sentence. "Yes, this map is a joke. Who can blame me if I get the drop off point wrong?”

"Well, this spot is as good as any," she said, loud enough for everyone to hear,. "Let's do it. Third and last time,” She lowered her voice to a whisper again, “And let’s forget about those different patterns we were discussing before!” her brother nodded in agreement, “That goes without saying,” he mumbled under his hand. “ Why do you think I suggested the hammer pattern? It was a terrible idea!“

They both rose, holding their arms out for balance and gathered the sacks, their movements mirrored. One by one, they tipped the sacks over the side of the boat, letting the grains tumble into the water. The grains quickly clumped together and morphed into something that looked like spiral worms. These ‘newborn’ worms rotated, their speed accelerating until they were a collective blur , and, as if they were one conscious being, they plunged suddenly together, under the surface, and out of sight.

Introduction. six months before the present day.

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