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1989 - England.
A witch-craft hunt was well underway in England. Stories of cults and rituals had spread across the globe to England from America where the worlds longest trial was going on. A boy with an over imaginative imagination had landed himself in a world of trouble and he didn't even know it yet. The council and authorities along with the social services took the boy and his brothers, as well as the children of friends and family, making the biggest mistake based on witch craft since the 1800's.
Religions were watching the uprise of mediums hypnotism in a new age and crying out that the devil was at play. The dead were dead and the people they spoke to were demons in disguise.
Alone in a hut that had no business being there, was a boy of six, abandoned there by his mother in hope some stranger of good will should find him and keep him safe. His mother fled from her husband; who was on the hunt for her and the child with the intent to kill. Such was the oldest of tradition in man to kill the wife who bedded another man, along with the child that was not his.
The child however had almost no clothes on, nothing but hay to sleep on which was a very small amount. The hut was entirely empty and if truth be told, looked more like a tee-pee that the native American tribes would have used... Only now it was long since battered and weathered.
Chapter One.
The first night Drake slept well, with no memory of being carried through those woods. He woke to a chill and his belly rumbling. Looking down upon himself he seen where he lay and at first stirred to panic. Closing his eyes for a brief second he thought of home and his bed. A smile crossed his face, how stupid was he to realize he wasn't dreaming that he lay in this foreign place. Opening his eyes once more he seen he was in his bed, with his favorite superman blanket covering him.
Pulling the blanket over himself, Drake remembered the days he drank a bottle in his bed and didn't have to leave his room for his milk to be mixed with cereal. The vague memory stirred an emotion inside that should long be forgotten to a child of six. However looking to his left there lay the bottle he had not seen in three years. Inside was the warm milk he had loved so much, no so cold that it hurt behind his eyes when he drank it.
Drinking from a bottle was not as easy as he had remembered, and after looking at it for a few seconds a smile spread across his face. Drakes dad had once given him a hiding for biting the teat off his bottle, but he didn't fear it now, he was older, he knew to hide the bottle this time. So he bit the tat hard and ripped the head off... drinking the warm milk before it had time to go cold.
Quite satisfied with his fill Drake looked around the room. Scattered around the floor in the back corner was his toy soldier set. The day before he had become annoyed at himself for not being able to make them stand on his bed. The rough bed and flat surface of the soldiers feet hadn't proved stable enough to play toy soldiers on the bed and he had thrown them to the floor in a tantrum.
On a second glance around the room Drake remembered the bedtime story his mother had read to him. It had been the story of Drakes Drum, or at least one of many. Sir Francis Drake had been an adventurer who has many stories throughout Europe, and it is said if ever in England there is trouble, Drakes Drum will be heard and a victory will follow. Long after his death and in the most recent wars people have claimed to hear Drakes Drum.
Looking at the book on the bed, Drake remembered everything his mother had said after reading one of the stories within it:
"Drake's Drum is a drum with Drake's coat of arms on it that he took with him when he circumnavigated the world. When Francis Drake was on his deathbed, he ordered the drum to be taken to Buckland Abbey where it still hangs today. Drake vowed that if England was ever in danger, someone was to beat the drum and he would return to defend England. People have claimed they have heard the drum being played several times throughout history including three within the 1900s. First in 1914 when World War I first began, second in 1918 on the battleship Royal Oak and then again in the retreat from Dunkirk during World War II. Reportedly, on the Royal Oak, a victory drum roll from a drum was heard when the German navy surrendered. The ship was then searched twice by the officers and then again by the captain and neither a drum nor a drummer were found on board."
Smiling as the words echoed in his mind, Drake picked up his toy soldiers and looked once more at his bed. 'If only he could use magic to turn it into a table... even if only for a while'. Imagining there and then that the bed would transform into a table, he watched as it did exactly that. Blinking with astonishment he seen that it was still actually a bed, so relaxing once more he again imagined it was a table, and once again a table it became.
Walking back over to the table with toys in hand, Drake wondered if the table would be able to let the soldiers stand up. After all, it was really a bed in disguise and the surface would still be rough.
Placing the first soldier down on one end of the bed with great care, Drake smiled as the soldier didn't even care to wobble where it stood balanced. Happy with the outcome, Drake placed all the soldiers onto the table in their own groups according to color, designating the greens as England, and the ones who would win by being reinforced by the ghost of Sir Francis Drake.
After a good twenty minutes of putting all the toy soldiers in place, Drake longed to watch the battle as an outsider. Not wanting to have to play alone as he often did. Moving the pieces here and there creating fake battles. Staring at the appointed General of the English troops he moved him to the center of the table. "What's the command General?" He whispered to the toy piece.
Watching as the piece came into color and very lifelike, Drake was barely surprised to hear the General reply. He knew if he blinked the toy soldier would be back on the bed and and still, ready to fall over on the rough surface... So he closed his eyes and held firm the image before him. "Stick the riders in the tree's and lay a trap. Just over that ridge we will station two-hundred of the troops as if in camp and when the enemy charges our riders will come out and crush them. Just like Hektor did during one of his campaigns in an attempt to stop the invasion of Agamemnon."
Drake had no idea who Hektor or Agamemnon was, but sure enough when he looked over at the English troops they stood not too far from a wood. The battlefield was green with grass and hills and a stream covered the area. Taking another look around his former bed he seen the entire scenery was now land, covered with small people running around. Looking closer at the invasion forces he seen none had guns like his toys had indeed been carrying, instead they wore shields and swords and armored breastplates. Instead of tanks that he had stationed at the front they had horses and flame hurlers. Drake watched for five minutes as the entire landscape continued to change and change. Buildings appearing, farms cropping up, mountains growing and rivers flowing. He noticed now that one thing was missing from all sides. None of them had a castle or any form of garrison.
Believing he could very well be dreaming, Drake smiled and set lifted the restrictions a bed would hold. He changed the land setting so the river flowed not to a dead end but to the sea, a sea that stopped dead at the edge of where his bed would stop. Peering in to the depths from a side angle he watched as a shark swam by oblivious to the creatures around it. He wondered why it wasn't snacking on the other fish but he didn't think on it too long.
Fleets of ships appeared at harbors of castles, villages popped up around the settlements. Rogues roamed the woods and a small tribe was doing ritual dances on a mountain. Unbound by laws of reality Drake created a half seat half hammock hanging from his ceiling and sat himself in it. High enough up to see all that was going on, yet close enough to hear the shouts of people in argument at the nearest village. Looking over the horizon of his bed Drake was able to make out a disturbance and all of a sudden was close enough to see and hear all that was going on. With his heart racing he gave himself one last look of the setting before he prepared himself to allow it all to begin. "My lord, are you Ares?"
Drake looked back down and seen the General still stood there in the middle of no-where watching him. "No. Who is Ares?" Drake replied a little self conscious that he was surely talking to himself. "The Greeks believed he is the God of War, and with war on the horizon I assumed you came to watch, possibly to stand by my men. After all if you would beg my pardon for assuming... But you asked what the plans were and I gladly told you of them." Drake lifted a hand to silence him, and then held back a smirk as he realized what he had just done. "No, I am not Ares. I am here to watch, but I won't be involved. Although Drake might be."
Before the general got chance to speak again, he found himself stood a hundred yards from his castle gates. Looking around and up to the sky he seen nothing unusual. What a strange day this is. With war on the Horizon and he is imagining children in the sky, watching with happiness and awaiting the sorrow filled massacres to come. "General, the King wishes to see you. He says war is a-coming."
The General sighed and looked once more up at the clouds. "Aye lad. And I fear this is just a game to amuse children for the gods above."
Drake, still watching the General was echoing the words in his mind. 'Are you Ares?' ... Looking over the battlefield the simple word pause came to mind, and as if his will should be done, the world beneath him stopped still in it's moment. With all thoughts considered, he was dreaming. Surely this was only a dream because such things can-not be real. Therefore he is able to read in his dream, and any book would be available to him. So without much thought to it, he imagined a book that would tell of Ares - this so called God of War.
''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
Greek God of War
Appearance: A bearded, good-looking man in the prime of life (at least before TV interpretations, where he is portrayed as a vigorous, handsome young man).
Symbol or Attribute: The spear. He is also associated with vultures and dogs.
Strengths: Decisive, determined, fearless.
Weaknesses:Impulsive, bloodthirsty, raring for a fight regardless of the consequences.
Affairs: No spouse, and his main love is war, but he didn't have too many lonely nights. Repeatedly deceived the smith god Hephaestus by making love with his beautiful wife Aphrodite. The sun god Helios saw them and revealed the affair to the rest of the Olympians, the males of whom dropped down to watch, embarassing Aphrodite and Ares.
Children: Diomedes, by the nymph Cyrene; Cycnus by Pyrene; Oenomaus by Sterope, one of the seven sisters comprising the Pleiades constellation.
Major Temple Sites: Ares enjoyed his strongest worship in the Northern Greece territory of Thracia or Thrace.
'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
Without any thought on the truth behind what he read, Drake decided he quite liked the thought of being Ares. Perhaps one day he would learn more of him and pretend to be him in a battle that stains his bed with blood.
'Play.'
At just the thought the world below continued once more. As the days passed to night and night to day upon the world below. mere minutes were passing for Drake. Though despite the passing of time he still took in everything that was happening. The words as clear as if they wasn't in fast forward, the conversations of distant lands as if whispered into his ears. Nothing went missed and weeks below him was only an hour to him.
So far the ones he had self appointed as the British were establishing Christianity and warring through righteousness. Though one man kept his own council on his belief of gods and he was now in command of more men than the King himself. Other armies were praying to the sky father, others to several gods ad some were praying to planets. Drake was amused by the ones who prayed to planets most. What did they think would be achieved by talking to planets to far away to hear anything.
Though anything in the battle could be heard if he wanted to hear it, even the snapping of twigs on the furthest corner of the former bed, sounds outside of the battle were much more distinct. Such as the birds chirping. Easily able to drown those sounds out, the battle went on, but this sound... this sound was alien to his surroundings and the battle below. A twig cracking under someones foot-step less than 3 yards away. Such a sound shouldn't come from right outside his bedroom door.
Everything paused, the battle below became still and the sounds had vanished.
Without the customary creak his door made when opening, his door opened and a head popped in. Drake not knowing who this person was suddenly fell hitting his backside hard on the floor. "Er... Hey."
The head belonged to a man Drake didn't know. About 23-years-old and dark haired with a bit of stubble. Drake looked around where he was and seen once more a strange wooden place with a bit of hay on the floor. Light was seeping through from behind the mans head and below where he hovered his head in the doorway. "I could have sworn I heard... Er... What were you hanging from?"
Drake a little bewildered for a minute looked up but said nothing. "Can you speak? Do you have a name?" The man stepped inside and looked around the small area. "What are you doing here?"
Drake stood up, still rubbing his backside from the fall.
'How the hell did I fall, I was dreaming. Where am I and who is he?...' ...The thoughts raced Drakes mind none stop but he still stared solidly at the stranger.
Looking around once more Drake stared at every detail of his environment. This was wrong, he was at home and in his bedroom. The room he stood in started to take shape once again into his bedroom but the man didn't disappear. He tried to imagine him gone but it didn't work. Instead the man was stood open mouthed staring at the wide room with children's wallpaper and a bed coming into view. Quickly turning and staring straight into the eyes of the boy the room vanished.
"What were you just doing?" He asked, this time seeming to know an answer would come.
"Nothing." Drake replied, truly thinking he hadn't done anything the man could have possibly seen.
"I am David, named after a king my mum says, after a footballer my dad says. Can I know your name?"
"Drake. I am six!" The reply seemed to stress on how manly being six-years-old truly was. At least how manly any six-year-old could hope it to mean.
"Wow. So old. You look old for your age though. I would have said at least eight." David replied with the intent of complimenting the young lad and not scaring him. "So Drake. How come your here? Who you with? ... Drake. Named after a dragon. A great name if ever there was one."
Drake looked again at the stranger as if only now for the first time. He wasn't coming close and he was calm. Looked ready to leave if commanded too and only a little worried but maybe not abut himself. Possibly about Drake. Drake had heard of such men pretending to be nice, but this guy was different. He seemed to be as young in the eyes as Drake was in years.
"Dragons aren't real" Drake replied defiantly, avoiding the question of who he was with. Had truth been told Drake was unsure if anyone was with him or not, besides of course this stranger. "Course they are. Ya know. The reason England has Three Lions is because of Wales. See we had this great powerful white dragon, but one day we went to war on Wales, only they had this red dragon. I can't remember how the story goes... but the red dragon won. Wales became more like allies than got conquered. Eventually there didn't seem to be any different. Least thats what my granddad says. He was welsh."
Drake let his imagination wander, deciding that one day dragons would be involved in the war on his bed. Looking to his right where the bed was earlier, he seen the battle still on pause. David fell over as he looked towards it and then the battle disappeared again.
"What the... Did you see that?"
Drake looked towards David and then the missing battlefield and back again. "See what?" Drake replied, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear it. "I guess it was a trick of light or my imagination." David answered still ghostly white.
With a slight smirk crossing his face Drake thought it would be funny to play a trick on David. At least that's how he said it in his head. In truth it was an experiment that his mind couldn't quite grasp. "Want some chocolate?"
David looked back at Drake unknowing how to reply. He had already looked around the room several times and no chocolate could be hidden in here... Except in the dirt, which he had no intention of eating. "What kind?"
"What kind do you like?" was the reply, a smug grin started to spread across his face uncontrollable. David beginning to think this boy was winding him up thought about it for a moment and then said easter eggs were his favorite.
Drake imagining a chocolate easter egg still in it's wrapped rested snugly in his hand behind his back. When he was sure he could pull it out and see it before him, he brought it out and shown it to David.
"Magic?" David asked as he reached out and took the egg. Slowly he opened the wrapper still unbelieving. Wrapping the shell with his knuckles he watched it cave in like any other easter egg. Finally he broke a piece of and tasted it, savoring the taste in his mouth as it melted. "Not magic" Drake finally answered. "Imaginary!" |
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