Beyond the Thorns: A Novel

I sigh deeply, my body emphasizing the action. Just a short while longer until I reach Yalev, the town of journey’s end. I clutch my notebook in one arm as my horse trots mindlessly over the hill, excitement lighting my eyes as we crest said hill. The town spans out before me, as the sun reaches its peak in the sky, the townspeople walk to and from the shops, running errands or other trivial work. Just at the entrance of Yalev was a stable, I pat my horse and descend the hill. As I do I see a building farther off from the rest of town, a Lab, I piece together.

I finally reach the stable and ask the stablehand about the Lab.

“That piece of junk? Yeah it’s been ‘ere for about five or so generations. I think the officials like to call it the Parol Laboratory or somethin’ of the sort.” He replies bitterly as he guides my rented horse into an empty stall. “Why, are ya’ interested in the crap they got going over there?”

“N-no not really, I’ve just never seen one before now.” I answer politely.

“I heard that if you go just a quarter-mile West o’ the place, you’ll find a ditch of corpses. All with white uniforms on, but you didn’t hear that from me alright?” He stage whispers, sending a shudder of displeasure down my spine. Out of all things to tell a newcomer to the town… why that? Granted my asking about it did start the whole conversation, but that isn’t as welcoming as expected.

I collect my thoughts quickly, “Mhm, I was told by a little bluebird, got it. Yup,” I turn on my heel and walk off to the main sector of Yalev. Wow, people were everywhere. I mentally decide to explore at a later date and start to maneuver towards the more residential side of town until I came to at the entrance of a park. Curious, I walk in and settle on an empty bench, pulling out my notebook and a pen from my pants pocket. I start to write the types of plants I see thriving and the others not-so much thriving. Once I get to writing down the cinnamon ferns’ scientific name (Osmunda cinnamomea), my eyes get caught on a dirtied building. It looked extremely old, probably from the late AD. Before the Amissal, that is.

The Amissal always intrigued me. They say before it happened, the Labs didn’t exist, nor did the abnormalities they study. And society had this thing called electricity, where they could just flick a tiny lever and the entire room would light up without being burnt to the ground. I collected myself before I started thinking too deeply and got up.

I walk over and see the sign hanging above the door read ‘Artisans of Adonas’ in the Universal language of Earth.

“Hm…” I look down at my notebook and made a poor sketch of the place, writing the name and to look into it later beside it. Then I proceed to walk off, allowing my internal people monitor to guide me to the least populated place.

I seat myself in the least dirty and bug-infested part of the brush and look up to see my guide placed me right by the Lab. I sigh, why do I always do this to myself? A snapping of twigs startled me.

“Who’re you? Everyone knows not to go by the Lab unless specifically instructed,” A voice called out. I stiffen as I compare it to a stereotypical government officer.

“Sorry sir, I’m new here sir, I-I didn’t know sir.” I sputter as I shoot up off the ground.

He chuckles, “must be new if I startled ya’ that badly.” The officer looked in his early forties, the hint of smile wrinkles below his eyes signaled his niceties. “Now let’s get you back to the main part of town.”

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“I understand Mr. Darwood, sir.” I nod, “I won’t get too close to the Lab again, I promise sir.” I repeat his warning as a vow.

He chuckles once more, “no need to add the ‘sir’ onto everything kid. Just try not to get too close to the Lab again, okay?”

“Yessir!” I reply, “I- sorry, okay.”

He smiled kindly, “Colton, we need you on duty.” Another officer called and he waved me off.

Once he leaves my view, my brain rolls on its side. It wouldn't hurt to go back… right? One voice asks.

Unless you wanna risk getting hurt, be my guest. Another voice spits.

Let’s just go, we should probably search for a good place to stay. It’s not like we’re on a business trip. I spin around, yeah. Let’s find a place to sleep before my only choice is under a bridge like a troll.