The sky above Eric wheeled by in large bloated clouds like those just before a thunderstorm. A mast snatching at an enormous billowing sail rose high above him, its dark mahogany wood gleaming with a dull light in the insufficient sun. Eric blinked feeling the creak of enormous boards shifting and groaning beneath him. Shaking his head at the roar of the waves thundering against the sides of a boat, he sat up.
Glancing around the full impact of what he saw nearly barreled him over. He felt a gasp rise in his throat but it did not escape him, his heart fell at this, for with a pinch he was reminded that this was only a dream. Perhaps at the very least he could enjoy it while it lasted. Standing up his feet sliding on the slightly damp wood he turned around and around absorbing his surrounding like a sponge absorbing soap water.
A strange feeling wafted over him then, as he walked up the shallow stares leading to the stern. There at the wheel not far from where he stood was a woman, she stood upright and erect, her hair tied back in a dark pony tail, hidden however by her tri cornered hat. Bedraggled and taken by surprise to find that the captain was in fact female, Eric merely starred at her. But she unlike him, gazed outward on the sea, one hand one her long and thin sword that was tucked in her belt, the other resting nonchalantly on the handle of the helm. She and the rest of the crew, Eric now saw, acted very much as though he weren't there at all.
Perturbed, Eric turned gazing out over the deck were the great masts rose. Eric remembered learning about the names of them in his pirate book. The one nearest to the stern was the Mizzenmast, the one in the center of the deck was the Main mast and the one towards the bow was the Foremast. Rigging was stretched like enlarged cobwebs from all the sails just like he had seen in the pictures and movies. Below on the deck, some of the crew were swabbing the deck in order to keep the wood from drying and shrinking. Eric's mind raced as he stepped once again down the stairs and across the wood of the deck which smelled of rich oils and sea salt.
He arrived at the bow and viewed the ocean tirelessly biting at the ship from all directions, the sea was so vast from where he stood he could feel the sprinkle of sea spray. Gaze fixing on a perfect place to stand, Eric grasped firm hold of the bowsprit, swinging his legs up and holding on tight he pulled himself up the spar at the front of the boat. Once he reached the spritsail topmast he pulled himself across the narrow beams of wood to a small plank overlooking the water.
Laughing the slightest bit as the wind whipped his face he lowered himself onto his stomach, half of him on the plank, the rest of him arms outstretched gleefully above the sea that toiled beneath him. >From this point there was no view of the boat only the wide sweeping landscape of indigo before him. Not far off he could see dolphins leaping tumbling through the air like acrobats, schools of fish swarmed through the crystal blue waters below. We must be in the Caribbean. He thought to himself as the sun burst through the dull gray clouds like a sword tearing through canvas.
Far away the first ridges of a breaching whale rose up like a bump among the waves. Water streamed up from the blow hole, just as a harsh wind pummeled against the ship like an enormous fist. The ship gave a great jolt, and everything went black as nightfall. Eric's eyes snapped open, he was laying on the floor of his room, having fallen from his bunk bed. However nothing hurt after taking that hard fall.Before his eyes, words lingered like wafts of curling smoke spelling out in long scripted handwriting...
"The Auguila."
Behind the doors of the Arcianjal house there are a series of strange rooms, but none as odd and curious as the back room of the house. The room is large but despite its roominess it feels cramped-too small to hold in the talents of both Eric's father and mother. Eric merely calls it "the office." The office isn't really an office at all more like a disorganized art room.
Papers lay atop the massive, wooden desk in the corner of the room. On countless canvases propped up against the violet and black walls there are streaked outlines of Dragons and starfish with glittering bells tied to their limbs-unicorns with stars tangled in their wild mains, and crocodiles with slices of apple pie in their jaws. On the floor scraps of novels, vignettes of ideas never finished, flutter at you like tiny goblin wings. Origami, half folded, is propped on the windowsill where it lies like discarded feathers. The TV is broken on a shelf over looking the realm of everything a normal family shouldn't have.
Every particle of this room is out of the ordinary. Everything is incomplete for nothing in this room is truly finished. The door is mainly kept locked as though the family fears to confront the ever increasing load of objectives they haven't yet reached. On the occasion that the door is opened there is the waft of something that smells of electric dust bunnies, and freshly shampooed dog. Eric usually crams towels beneath that door to stop the smell from invading the rest of the house.
The room is merely another object of mystery to add to the strange house, one of the great riddles still to be unraveled by those who live within its walls. A priceless treasure which the gargoyles guard like ominous sentinels.
Eric is a 14-year-old boy with a talent for trouble. He does not purposefully go looking for it yet trouble is always just around the corner. He is much like his mother, with dark brown hair and light gray eyes. He is leggy and rather thin for most boys his age. He isn't comfortable around other kids, preferring to stay locked up in his room reading books about medieval history or drawing imaginary suits of armor. He is quite ashamed of his house because it is so odd. Every time he opens the freezer he has to duck as the howling chilly dogs leap from the ice and scuttle, yapping and panting, over the floor to chase the fleeing catfish sticks across the kitchen tile.
He has to guard the butter from the persistent, butterflies that buzz around his head as he is making his breakfast. Sometimes things can get quite out of hand. Eric is painfully aware that his house is the constant joke of the neighborhood. He often fancies he lives somewhere else in the Middle Ages. He spends hours pouring over geography books or surfing the web to research ancient lands and faraway places.
Eric's father travels a lot as he is a renowned writer and has to promote his books. A bit of an oddball himself, Eric's father is always quoting poetry left and right or making up strange and corny stories to entertain Eric's younger sister, Alex. Eric isn't much of a writer himself, preferring to stick to the hard cold facts. He hates going to school because school feels like a prison. His likes history and math, but being crowded by tons of kids who dislike him is tough for Eric. That is where his odd talent comes in handy.
At the age of twelve, Eric discovered he had a unique and strange power. He could become invisible! To do this, he must carry three colors, brown, black and gold. Oddly enough, these colors must be on his person in the form of paper not fabric or any other material. He carries these colors to school with him and disappears at will when he spots the school bullies coming his way. To Eric's dismay.
This talent isn't entirely full proof. Down corridor five, in the east wing of his school, the surrounding walls have been painted a ghastly yellow that appears to neutralize his talent. This is a dreaded misfortune for him because this seems to be where the most annoying bullies hang out. Because Eric's English class is in corridor five, he can't avoid going down this hall. Collisions with bullies are inevitable.
Eric has an awful temper when pushed to the limit. Once, while in a bad mood, he accidentally broke his dresser drawer by kicking it. He also broke his toe too, which proved most unpleasant. In an attempt to control his temper, Eric will often practice archery, using both his compound bow and longbow.
It isn't easy for Eric, living in a weird house and dealing with his bad temper, his eccentric father, and the little clay dragons his mother crafts in her studio. The dragons never sleep and often perch on the threshold of his bedroom door, mumbling on and on about nothing. When he complains, his mother only laughs and says dragons will be drag--ons. Eric basically thinks that life is a big drag when you don't fit in.
The Ranch of Riddles is situated in South Dakota around a man-made lake in a small neighborhood called Hallowood Acres.
Everyone seems to know each other there, which means they know much about the Ranch of Riddles, much to the embarrassment of the owners who live in the house. In the back woods of the house there is a large swampy marsh that is constantly being fed by a rushing river.
The oddest thing about Hallowood Acres is that it is located next to an Air Balloon Launching Port. The Hallowood community constantly enjoys a vibrant display of rainbow-colored balloons floating overhead on their way to the heavens. Another peculiar event in Hallowood Acres past is that for some unexplained reason there used to be a zoo not far from it.
Ten years ago the zoo shut down, and some of its exotic animals escaped into the woods of Hallowood Acres. The lonely call of the loon can often be heard floating across the water towards docks of the lake houses, like some bodiless specter.
The House is a little blue house with a white picket fence. Thorny bushes are planted around the front area, encircling a garden full of morning glories and Hyacinths.
The house has small windows that are wider towards the back of the house, and a grey shingled roof. The windows are bordered with black shutters. The ranch has a red brick chimney. On occasion, smoke can be seen curling like ribbons from the depths of its stone belly. The back doors are cement painted red. The front doors are sliding glass doors with broken interior screens.
It has two stone gargoyles on both corners of the top roof. No one knows why they are present. There are rumors that the stone figures have been there as long as anyone can remember. The strange thing about the house is it seems to be under some sort of enchantment, for some things that are said behind its cement doors are taken literally. The things around that house seem to be fairly odd.
Every so often, there'd be an infestation of Stag Beetles or Angel Fish. This would be an odd sight indeed, for the Angel fish would inevitably appear as extravagant ocean fish with very large white wings. Or else, if the Stag Beetles arrived, you might have some difficult problems with furry, antlered beetles that cause massive amounts of noises in the evenings. Sometimes, the Stag Beetles will even start grazing on the lawn outside when they become ravenous.
Indeed, you can find a strange assortment of animals at the house, either unfurling from the pages of your imagination or leaping out of the articles of magazines.
Here, there be spectacles to see.