Fucked around and found out

Fuck around and find out, nothing describes the last few weeks better than this. 

It all started when I was fucking around in an attic that belonged to an old friend of the family that passed away a few months prior.

I had always gotten along with the old man pretty well and they both shared a passion for stories. He was even the reason I had started to write my own stories. He didn’t light the flame of imagination in my mind... but he did add a pile of jet fuel to that fire.

He had told me stories of old about knights, wizards, trolls, dragons, giants, and princesses. about magic talking animals and old gods, the most fun, however, were those about fairies and humans. Chaos usually ensued whenever they interacted(outside of the traditional offerings and thank-you gifts people sometimes left for them.

An imagination that continued to plague me even now.

At some point, while cleaning the attic I picked up a walking stick I had carved years ago.

It was around 5 feet, big enough to work for an adult, even if there were some spots that could use some work. Little me was stubborn in that he wanted a stick the same size as his because he was strong enough to carry it. The old man reluctantly agreed and taught him the basics of carving before letting him go at it while supervising to make sure I didn’t poke my way out or chop my own finger off(which miraculously did not happen).

I tested the weight and spun it around a couple of times, ever since I was a kid I always had a tendency to pick up sticks and mess around with them, sometimes I pretended they were swords or guns, and others I just spun them around fighting an imaginary opponent with all the grace of a fish out of his tank. I don't know if this was because of a leftover caveman brain cell or if I just had grown up watching too many martial arts movies for my own good.

Either way, it just felt right, at some point during high school looked up things like ‘staff fighting basics’ and ‘lightsaber tricks’ online since at the end of the day those were just glowy sticks. Then I ‘trained’ trying to replicate the motions with a 1-inch thick piece of PVC pipe I had leftover from a high school project.

After a few seconds I had zoned out, my hands and arms going through the motions almost automatically. I thrusted and swiped, changing the position of my hands along the stick’s length, constantly switching the middle and a spot between the middle and the end. I threw a couple of wide swipes and thrusting motions like it was a really short spear and when I pulled back my arm I knocked over something behind me, there was a crash and the sound of breaking glass. I turned around feeling a knot in my stomach as I saw what I had done. On the floor in front of me, there was a small picture frame with the wooden part broken, the corner had split where two pieces of wood met each other. I carefully picked it up and inspected the damage.

“You just had to fuck around” I scolded at no one but myself. I took out the picture and inspected it for damage to make sure it had better luck than the frame. It was an old picture of the two of them and his dog ‘spot’ who had died a few years before he did.

I put the bittersweet memories aside on top of a box with the picture and cleaned my mess, the glass I could replace but I should try to fix the frame, it looked old and it felt wrong leaving it damaged.

I picked up the picture again before my rarely still attention moved over to a mirror and noticed something, there was something behind the photograph. I turned it around and saw a series of words and numbers written in fancy cursive, or regular cursive, cursive in general looks fancy to me, with black ink. It read:

'look in the desk'

7, Crow, 9, Fox, 13, ?

I stared at the photo confused for a few seconds before my last three brain cells slapped me in the face with an answer.

I quickly took a picture with my phone of both sides of the photograph and rushed to the abandoned office. Whenever I stayed with him he often asked me not to go into his office. So of course like the nice and well-behaved child I was I tried going in, over and over again with increasingly ridiculous methods, each time getting caught.

At some point, I considered sneaking through a window but backed away at the last second because, well, it looked like a really long fall. The one time he had let me see the inside of his office I was excited about all the things I saw, old, maps, books and strange devices of the past such as sextants and compasses, my favorite was an old globe he had, he had only allowed me to see it because, somehow, I was able to figure out how to pick a lock after seeing a cartoon character do it with some hairpins and paperclips.

He had found it genuinely impressive enough to allow me entry on the condition that I would be careful and not break anything, which somehow I managed not to do.

I reached out and grabbed hold of the doorknob expecting resistance but… it was unlocked. That felt wrong, a part of me felt like this door was not supposed to open so easily. After a few seconds of uneasiness, curiosity got the better of me and I entered the office.

It was still a beautiful, wonderful mess I remembered. Maps and other papers across the walls with all kinds of notes written in cursive black ink. There were piles of loose papers and books stacked on top of each other on each side of the desk, some in languages I didn’t recognize. I inspected the old wooden desk. Some old pens and quills laid near a few empty glass ink pots decorating the surface. I softly pulled on the handle of the drawer. It didn’t open. After a few more tries I figured out that it wasn’t stuck and that there was something keeping it closed.

There was no place to insert a key in the front. I pulled the chair back and crouched under the desk. There on the side of the drawer, I saw a series of small cylinders like a combination lock but with different lengths, they were blank. I tried turning one of them and the number 1 appeared. I turned the other ones and three of them had numbers, two between those had animal names such as rabbit or wolf, and the one at the end had random symbols. I pulled out my phone and the picture I just took.

'7, Crow, 9, Fox, 13, ?'

I turned the cylinders following the words on the picture. As soon as I turned the last one to the question mark symbol heard a clicking sound. I got out from under the desk and lightly pulled on the handle again. This time the drawer slid out without issue. inside I found an old leather messenger bag and an old book made of leather with a strip of the same material around it keeping it closed. under the book, there was a letter with a red wax seal.

I took the things out and while inspecting the letter i saw the words. 'to Jaime' written in the same handwriting as the photograph.

This was getting weird. a person with common sense would be scared if not uneasy, probably walking away from all this. but sadly common sense is not something I usually use.

I opened the letter breaking the wax seal and read it.

Dear Jaime, I hope life is going well for you, if you are reading this it probably means I’ve died. After my old friend Spot expired you were there to bury him and comfort me. Along with your curious, and sometimes mischievous mind, you always had a kind heart with an instinct to look out for others. It didn’t matter if they were plants, random animals you found on our forest walks, or this old man.

There's so much I wanted to tell you and even more, I wanted to teach you, but you were too young to know of the wonders and dangers that came with the path I once walked. sadly I don’t have much time, so please listen carefully.

Look after this book and use its contents well, in the bag you will find tools that will aid you in your journey, whatever it ends up being. Be warned, once it starts there will be no going back to the way things were, then again, things never stay the same for long.

With that said all I can think of telling you right now is, keep being curious, keep being kind, and take care of yourself. If you need help ask the book and it will do its best to answer your question, you will find its contents rather ‘interesting’.

I wish you the best luck in your journey old friend,

Issac

P.S. any ink works but the book has a taste for India ink.

I stood there and wiped the few tears that had escaped my eyes trying to get myself together. This man was family to us, and we were a lot alike. He was a bit weird, but so was i.

He was the kind of person that liked the forest outdoors a such as the inside of a library or museum, the kind of person that liked talking to people and sharing his stories with them and hearing theirs from time to time, the kind that could take a conversation from the most mundane of topics like what kind of fruit they liked the most to the most interesting or funny of topics like the fact that there were blue bananas in this world or lizards capable of running on water. 

I was the kid that tested the teacher’s patience without intending to most of the time, the kid that tried reading every plaque whenever they went to a park or museum, the kid that loved collecting rocks and sticks. We were almost the same, yes I was much younger and full of energy back then and he was already pretty old, but we got along great and shared stories, sometimes mundane things like things we did over the summer break or how we were doing that day.

After a few minutes of tears and some sobbing, I managed to get it together.

I opened the book and wondered what his words meant and discovered it was empty.

I stared at the blank pages not knowing what to do, was this some sort of weird prank or perhaps some poetic statement from the old man. it wouldn’t be that weird for him to pull something like this.

I looked through the messenger bag and found three full inkpots with a corkscrew sealing them, a calligraphy set, a weird compass with more than one needle, a letter opener that could have been useful earlier, and a small pouch with weird coins of different sizes made of what I guessed was gold, silver, and copper, and a necklace made of a leather strip with a crystal that looked like quartz.

A switch flipped inside my brain as I looked back and forth between the ink bottles and the book, a ridiculous idea formed in my head but what the hell. I might as well get it out of my system now. I opened the book to the second page, grabbed one of the pens on the desk, and took the cork out of one of the ink bottles. I dipped the tip and wrote on the page.

Hello book, I am Javier, how are you?

I smiled at how ridiculous this was. I was about to close it when I saw the ink move and shift on the page. 

Hello Javier, I am thirsty, the book answered back as a chill ran down my spine.

“what in the everloving fuck….” I whispered to myself before writing again.

What do you want to drink? I asked before the book answered back in three simple words

I want Ink

I grabbed the ink bottle trying not to shake and spilled some of its contents carefully on the page, the paper absorbed it almost immediately like a sponge, making it disappear.

Is that enough?

Yes, thank you for that meal. what would you like to know?.

I stared at the page before answering. What do you know?

I know a lot, please be more specific.

What are you? Are you alive? I was worried about the answer to the second question.

I am a Codex, I am the companion and assistant of a Sh’ad Jornii, also called Jorni.

"Ok then, what is a Jorni?" I said out loud before writing the same question on the paper.

The term can be translated to English as Travelers, explorers, shadow walkers, travelers of worlds, those who travel through shadows, those who travel with shadows.

How do the Jorni travel to other worlds?

It takes many years of discipline and training but a master Jorni can travel to worlds physically safe to them by clearing their mind and walking into a shadow gate, however less experienced travelers can use a wayfinder to make the task easier.

I kept asking more questions as time went on.

I took the book home and spent a week preparing for the trip. I. I had just finished packing things like my laptop, toilet paper, food and water, some batteries and camping gear, and a small electric generator. On top of this, the book told me to bring some materials like candles and salt, and other stuff I had along with the house.

I felt excited, I had always wanted to be like all those heroes of books and anime. This was my chance to do something with my life. I had just finished high school about a year ago and lost my job at a bookstore after the owner made very bad financial decisions.

I told my friends and family that I was gonna take a camping trip to the mountainous forests of Oregon. as I packed things I found out the messenger bag had some sort of expansion magic that made it bigger on the inside. I found this by accident after tripping and shoving my entire torso inside the bag before I was able to pull myself out. I'd have to be careful with that.

Before doing the ritual I asked the book for more instructions and it told me to put on the necklace and to take out the compass. and after the book told me that it was safe to leave the candles alone and that they wouldn’t end up burning the house I locked every door on the house except the bathroom, just in case, then I lit the candles.

I closed my eyes focusing, the necklace was in my chest, the messenger bag with the codex and things inside hung from my shoulder without weighing as much as it should have. In one hand was the compass and in the other a fistful of salt, the book had told me to use. The candles were arranged in a triangle pattern inside a chalk circle with some lines I had copied from the book.

I chanted a series of words that sounded like whispers of the wind at night and tossed the salt at the candles after I finished, the gentle yellow flames flared purple as a ring of flame formed, the flames seemed to pull all the shadows from the room except my own towards them and formed a portal, a space of pure darkness surrounded by a ring of purple fire. I took a deep breath and looked at the compass remembering the directions the codex had given me. 

'Follow the yellow needle, finding a master is the first thing to do, that needle will take you to one, do not follow anything else, and stay focused so that you don’t end up in the wrong place.'

I worried what the codex considered a wrong place but I didn’t want to risk it. I looked back behind me only beginning to consider now that this may have not been a good idea. 

“so… weird ass magic portal or boring minimum wage job…,” I said out loud to myself weighing the two options before smirking and walking into the portal. As soon as I did the portal I came through closed. 

The place was weird, there was no horizon, no light source, and nothing but black emptiness. I looked at myself and was somehow able to see myself and my things without light. I took a deep breath inside the void, somehow, and ran forward following the green needle. After almost a minute of running, I crashed onto a wooden post as the void went away, replaced by what looked like a fantasy tavern. And when I say fantasy I mean Elves, Dwarves, armor, and swords, and a bunch of things that would not look out of place in a D&D game.

Some people gave me funny looks but they lost interest almost a second after. I followed the compass to a table where a black human woman with dreadlocks in a ponytail was playing some sort of poker-like game with other patrons. Almost everyone wore some kind of armor or carried a weapon.

This journey was gonna be longer than I thought.