Latvia StarrLatvia Starr awoke with a start. She was drenched in a cold sweat, her legs tangled in the sheets. “Lithuania!” she gasped. She tumbled out of bed and ran to her wardrobe, her hands shaking. She had just had the most vivid dream— a dream that portended the death of her sister, or worse— a dream that meant her sister was already dead!
From a top shelf in the wardrobe Latvia pulled a dark mahogany box, small and varnished, with intricate gold inscriptions that only a select few could decipher. “Please don’t be dead,” she muttered to herself, fumbling with the box clasp as she took it back to her bed. From the box she extracted her set of three fortune dice, her crystal orb, and her ever-trusty oracle cards. “Please, please, please don’t be dead.”
From a top shelf in the wardrobe Latvia pulled a dark mahogany box, small and varnished, with intricate gold inscriptions that only a select few could decipher. “Please don’t be dead,” she muttered to herself, fumbling with the box clasp as she took it back to her bed. From the box she extracted her set of three fortune dice, her crystal orb, and her ever-trusty oracle cards. “Please, please, please don’t be dead.”
She tossed two dice onto the carpet, and held her breath. That’s odd, she thought. The dice indicated death in the past, but a threatened life in the future. She picked them up and tossed them one more time. Latvia frowned. The same result. Her dice never lied. But life never followed death— not when she was seeking the fortune of a single person. It couldn’t mean that Lithuania had lost someone she loved— that wasn’t how the dice worked. Death in the past could mean nothing else but that Lithuania had died. But then, how could there be a threatened life for her in the future?
Latvia decided to try the cards. She shuffled the deck, then turned three over, one by one onto her bed. Death. The Wheel of Fortune. And the Star. It was an unlikely combination. She shuffled the cards again, then turned over three cards, one at a time. Death. The Wheel of Fortune. And the Star. Latvia groaned, tossing the cards back haphazardly into their box. She glanced at the crystal orb, the most difficult of fortune-telling devices. Given the results of the dice and cards, she could hardly expect the orb to be of any use. Then again, she had nothing to lose.
She picked up her flashlight, and with the orb in her left hand, she walked over to the side of her wardrobe and pushed it away from the wall. It was a heavy and clunky antique, one of those rare pieces of furniture that was actually made of real wood—a rarity nowadays on the planet of Coralende. The wardrobe eventually slid just enough for Latvia to reveal the small black door behind it, hidden beneath the rich persian carpet that hung decoratively behind the wardrobe. She pushed the door open, and disappeared into the darkness.
It had been several years since she had used the stairway behind the wardrobe. She remembered how intrigued she had been when she discovered it. While rearranging the furniture in the home that her family had owned for centuries, Latvia finally decided that the ugly-ass wardrobe simply had to go. The carpet hanging behind it—the carpet that gave the bedroom a warmth beyond that provided by the hardwood floors and dark paneled walls—that could stay. Though it might be a good idea to move it. And in her attempt to single-handedly take the carpet down, she came across the door.
A black ugly thing, aged beyond reason given the state of the rest of the house. The hinges were rusted and red, and the door knob looked like it had perhaps at some point been made of glass, though now it was so crusted with a strange kind of soot that made it impossible for her to tell for certain. When she turned the knob, the door opened smoothly, as if the hinges had been just recently greased. And then she crept cautiously up the stairs, up into a room she had never known existed. Up into a room… that would change her fate forever.
Latvia snapped back to the present, arriving at the dark room at the end of the stairs. The wood in the room was blackened by the same strange soot that had darkened the doorknob downstairs, yet the furniture in the room was perfectly clean. Latvia smiled to herself, amused by how the room always kept itself tidy except for the soot. It was a small room, much like an attic, piled with all sorts of junk. Old sofas, coffers and chests, mirrors, tables, dressers and bookcases, some covered by blankets, others exposed and on their sides—it was an aesthetic chaos that Latvia found pleasing.
In the far end of the room was a small and circular stained glass window through which hardly any sunlight could enter. The room had no light fixture either, and given that it was nighttime, Latvia’s flashlight was the only thing keeping her from absolute darkness. She sat down at the circular table in the middle of the room, where the fortune-telling orb had first been found, and placed the orb on its base at the center of the table. She lit two white candles, one on either side of the orb, then closed her eyes.
She had to concentrate if she expected this to work. Latvia took several deep breaths until her mind was clear of thoughts. It had taken quite some practice to learn how to empty her mind with just a few deep breaths, but she had gotten good at it. Freeing herself from the world around her was vital to successful fortune-telling. Now all she had to do was modify her usual rhyming spell. With her eyes still closed, she said:
“Spirits of the day and night,
Come to me so that I might,
See that which my sister sees,
And in this way my fear appease.”
It was a lame rhyme, but it worked. It wasn’t long before the familiar chill of otherworldly spirits entered the room. The stained glass of the window frosted over in a matter of seconds. The wooden beams on the ceiling creaked. The wind outside howled. The candles flickered weakly, and Latvia shivered. Their seemed to be an extraordinary number of spirits in the room—all circling Latvia—enveloping her with their gelid wispy bodies.
Latvia grew uneasy. Her hands, placed firmly on the crystal ball, were growing numb. Though her eyes were closed, she knew her breath was visible in the frigid attic air. And then a wraithlike shriek resounded through the room. Latvia opened her eyes in terror, but her sight was helplessly locked on the crystal orb. She couldn’t move. She could hardly breathe. The images in the orb were incredibly vivid. A charred wreck of an aircraft… scorched grass… a blackened night… and…
…A pounding rain that wouldn’t stop. Lithuania Starr was soaked to the bone as she trekked through the grassy LusciousLockian terrain, struggling to see through the darkness and the thick sheets of pouring rain. “Hello!” she called. Her voice was carried away by the storm. There was no way anybody was going to hear her. The relatively flat grasslands she had been hiking through were turning mountainous. Bushes and trees were beginning to sprout here and there, and Lithuania knew it wouldn’t be long before she’d reach the cover of woods.
She grunted onward. Her radio was out. The flashlight on her helmet wouldn’t last forever. And she didn’t even know where she was headed. She was beginning to regret ever having left the wreck—then again, she wasn’t too keen on spending the night with two dozen corpses. All she wanted now was to find some sort of cover from the rain. And then, for no apparent reason, Lithuania thought of her sister Latvia. What might she be doing right now? Was she even aware of her sister’s peril? She was probably at home, sleeping soundly, oblivious of Lithuania’s dangerous voyage into LusciousLocks…
And then she heard something moving. Something big—stomping its way slowly towards her. An unbearable stench of filth immediately filled the air. Lithuania plugged her nose in disgust and ran away from the sound of the creature’s footsteps. Whatever it was, she was in no position to face it. But then the creature accelerated its pace. The stomping became more frequent—the smell more intense. Lithuania was running as quickly as her feet would carry her, but she felt weak. The adrenaline and panic running through her veins wasn’t enough to keep her ahead of the creature for much longer. Then suddenly, the creature released an ear-shattering trumpeting sound. Lithuania felt as if her eardrums exploded, and dazed she toppled to the ground. She tumbled helplessly downhill, unable to see where her body was headed, then collapsed into some sort of ditch—a crevice in the mountainside. Stunned, she tried to grapple her way out of the crevice, but the walls were too muddy and slippery. Her ears were ringing, and her sense of orientation was shot. Then again, the terrible trumpeting sound blasted through the air. The creature was near.
Lithuania let her body go limp. She closed her eyes, hoping for the best. Maybe the creature couldn’t see her. Maybe it couldn’t smell her. Then suddenly, she felt her body was on fire. She shrieked in pain as she felt the skin fall off her limbs—as blood gushed from neck—as she felt her head detach itself from her body. She shrieked, and shrieked, and shrieked—
Latvia shrieked, releasing the orb with a force that sent it hurtling across the room and smashing against the wall. She was trembling all over, her body in a cold sweat. Her sister was dead—but alive—but dead! The last image she had seen was that of her sister’s charred and disemboweled body, hanging upside down in the helicopter cockpit. Yet her sister was simultaneously inside a fissure of sorts, alive but assaulted by some monster. How was this possible?!
Latvia paced back and forth, shaking violently. She needed to reach her sister— find help for her sister, somehow. But how had this happened? How could it be that Lithuania was both dead and alive? How was it possible—
Latvia’s eyes opened in realization. Suddenly, she understood everything.
Latvia decided to try the cards. She shuffled the deck, then turned three over, one by one onto her bed. Death. The Wheel of Fortune. And the Star. It was an unlikely combination. She shuffled the cards again, then turned over three cards, one at a time. Death. The Wheel of Fortune. And the Star. Latvia groaned, tossing the cards back haphazardly into their box. She glanced at the crystal orb, the most difficult of fortune-telling devices. Given the results of the dice and cards, she could hardly expect the orb to be of any use. Then again, she had nothing to lose.
She picked up her flashlight, and with the orb in her left hand, she walked over to the side of her wardrobe and pushed it away from the wall. It was a heavy and clunky antique, one of those rare pieces of furniture that was actually made of real wood—a rarity nowadays on the planet of Coralende. The wardrobe eventually slid just enough for Latvia to reveal the small black door behind it, hidden beneath the rich persian carpet that hung decoratively behind the wardrobe. She pushed the door open, and disappeared into the darkness.
It had been several years since she had used the stairway behind the wardrobe. She remembered how intrigued she had been when she discovered it. While rearranging the furniture in the home that her family had owned for centuries, Latvia finally decided that the ugly-ass wardrobe simply had to go. The carpet hanging behind it—the carpet that gave the bedroom a warmth beyond that provided by the hardwood floors and dark paneled walls—that could stay. Though it might be a good idea to move it. And in her attempt to single-handedly take the carpet down, she came across the door.
A black ugly thing, aged beyond reason given the state of the rest of the house. The hinges were rusted and red, and the door knob looked like it had perhaps at some point been made of glass, though now it was so crusted with a strange kind of soot that made it impossible for her to tell for certain. When she turned the knob, the door opened smoothly, as if the hinges had been just recently greased. And then she crept cautiously up the stairs, up into a room she had never known existed. Up into a room… that would change her fate forever.
Latvia snapped back to the present, arriving at the dark room at the end of the stairs. The wood in the room was blackened by the same strange soot that had darkened the doorknob downstairs, yet the furniture in the room was perfectly clean. Latvia smiled to herself, amused by how the room always kept itself tidy except for the soot. It was a small room, much like an attic, piled with all sorts of junk. Old sofas, coffers and chests, mirrors, tables, dressers and bookcases, some covered by blankets, others exposed and on their sides—it was an aesthetic chaos that Latvia found pleasing.
In the far end of the room was a small and circular stained glass window through which hardly any sunlight could enter. The room had no light fixture either, and given that it was nighttime, Latvia’s flashlight was the only thing keeping her from absolute darkness. She sat down at the circular table in the middle of the room, where the fortune-telling orb had first been found, and placed the orb on its base at the center of the table. She lit two white candles, one on either side of the orb, then closed her eyes.
She had to concentrate if she expected this to work. Latvia took several deep breaths until her mind was clear of thoughts. It had taken quite some practice to learn how to empty her mind with just a few deep breaths, but she had gotten good at it. Freeing herself from the world around her was vital to successful fortune-telling. Now all she had to do was modify her usual rhyming spell. With her eyes still closed, she said:
“Spirits of the day and night,
Come to me so that I might,
See that which my sister sees,
And in this way my fear appease.”
It was a lame rhyme, but it worked. It wasn’t long before the familiar chill of otherworldly spirits entered the room. The stained glass of the window frosted over in a matter of seconds. The wooden beams on the ceiling creaked. The wind outside howled. The candles flickered weakly, and Latvia shivered. Their seemed to be an extraordinary number of spirits in the room—all circling Latvia—enveloping her with their gelid wispy bodies.
Latvia grew uneasy. Her hands, placed firmly on the crystal ball, were growing numb. Though her eyes were closed, she knew her breath was visible in the frigid attic air. And then a wraithlike shriek resounded through the room. Latvia opened her eyes in terror, but her sight was helplessly locked on the crystal orb. She couldn’t move. She could hardly breathe. The images in the orb were incredibly vivid. A charred wreck of an aircraft… scorched grass… a blackened night… and…
…A pounding rain that wouldn’t stop. Lithuania Starr was soaked to the bone as she trekked through the grassy LusciousLockian terrain, struggling to see through the darkness and the thick sheets of pouring rain. “Hello!” she called. Her voice was carried away by the storm. There was no way anybody was going to hear her. The relatively flat grasslands she had been hiking through were turning mountainous. Bushes and trees were beginning to sprout here and there, and Lithuania knew it wouldn’t be long before she’d reach the cover of woods.
She grunted onward. Her radio was out. The flashlight on her helmet wouldn’t last forever. And she didn’t even know where she was headed. She was beginning to regret ever having left the wreck—then again, she wasn’t too keen on spending the night with two dozen corpses. All she wanted now was to find some sort of cover from the rain. And then, for no apparent reason, Lithuania thought of her sister Latvia. What might she be doing right now? Was she even aware of her sister’s peril? She was probably at home, sleeping soundly, oblivious of Lithuania’s dangerous voyage into LusciousLocks…
And then she heard something moving. Something big—stomping its way slowly towards her. An unbearable stench of filth immediately filled the air. Lithuania plugged her nose in disgust and ran away from the sound of the creature’s footsteps. Whatever it was, she was in no position to face it. But then the creature accelerated its pace. The stomping became more frequent—the smell more intense. Lithuania was running as quickly as her feet would carry her, but she felt weak. The adrenaline and panic running through her veins wasn’t enough to keep her ahead of the creature for much longer. Then suddenly, the creature released an ear-shattering trumpeting sound. Lithuania felt as if her eardrums exploded, and dazed she toppled to the ground. She tumbled helplessly downhill, unable to see where her body was headed, then collapsed into some sort of ditch—a crevice in the mountainside. Stunned, she tried to grapple her way out of the crevice, but the walls were too muddy and slippery. Her ears were ringing, and her sense of orientation was shot. Then again, the terrible trumpeting sound blasted through the air. The creature was near.
Lithuania let her body go limp. She closed her eyes, hoping for the best. Maybe the creature couldn’t see her. Maybe it couldn’t smell her. Then suddenly, she felt her body was on fire. She shrieked in pain as she felt the skin fall off her limbs—as blood gushed from neck—as she felt her head detach itself from her body. She shrieked, and shrieked, and shrieked—
Latvia shrieked, releasing the orb with a force that sent it hurtling across the room and smashing against the wall. She was trembling all over, her body in a cold sweat. Her sister was dead—but alive—but dead! The last image she had seen was that of her sister’s charred and disemboweled body, hanging upside down in the helicopter cockpit. Yet her sister was simultaneously inside a fissure of sorts, alive but assaulted by some monster. How was this possible?!
Latvia paced back and forth, shaking violently. She needed to reach her sister— find help for her sister, somehow. But how had this happened? How could it be that Lithuania was both dead and alive? How was it possible—
Latvia’s eyes opened in realization. Suddenly, she understood everything.
