The Quest?

The Quest?

A lone wanderer named Nathaniel trekked across the land of Reverie. This was his land; from the Northern Mountains to the jungles of the south, and all the seas. He rode atop his horse, Parris, with his head held high in pride. He was on a quest, in his own land…a quest to find himself. The warm summer breeze coaxed his face, and soothed his mind. Everything was so serene; the grass waved back and forth and he had not a trouble in the world. The birds were chirping ever so merrily in the sky, as his horse cantered along the slopes of the Western Plains. As carefree as he was, he still had a purpose to his journey…to find himself. Nathaniel had not planned the journey, but rather had followed his mind, and went wherever it carried him. His mind pointed to the Eastern Deserts, where he would find that object that would help him accomplish his goal. So, he continued. As he travelled along the plains, he heard the strangest of things…a laugh. Its sound grated against his ears and made him hunch over in near agony. What could produce such a shrill noise, he wondered. He wouldn’t hear it for quite some time.

                The plains changed to steppes and the steppes to badlands, as he approached the desert. Suddenly, Parris drew to a halt, and neighed so loud that the heavens might have crumbled.

“What is it?” Nathaniel asked, rubbing Parris. Parris reared back on two legs and neighed even louder. In the distance, he found a peculiar object. Immediately jumping off of Parris, Nathaniel went down to examine this thing, leaving Parris twitching nervously. “What in the name of…?” Nathaniel started, but stood agape. It was a cauldron, filled to the brim with water. Inside floated a piece of meat. There was a voice chanting “Give her Proctor!” followed by an evil cackle. The meat turned out to be chicken. Nathaniel looked more closely into the cauldron. It was then that he heard the dreaded laughter again. This time the laughter repeated twice, growing louder the second time. Nathaniel felt like there was a gaze burning into his neck, but when he turned around, there wasn’t a person in sight.

                The badlands ended, and he entered the desert. In the distance he heard a ringing noise. Nathaniel felt close to his final destination, so he ignored the sound and rode on. Little attention did he pay to the woman clad in a dark sweater, skirt, and boots, standing off in the distance. He nudged Parris, and urged him to gallop faster, and in minutes Nathaniel was racing through the desert, towards the shore. He was almost there. He could feel it. The wind blew against his face, and sand blasted against his cheeks. He averted his face and looked to the ground, and found a row of thick books. Though dubious, he pressed on, eager to reach the shore before nightfall.

In a matter of hours he was at the shore, and the sun was just beginning to set, casting a scarlet haze over the horizon. Nathaniel could see the shore. He rode towards it, and pulled Parris to a halt as he drew near. He jumped off and ran to the shore, and there it was…the object. It was a paper. He pulled it out of the sand, and studied it. There were some red markings on top of it, and there were questions. It was something dealing with…The Crucible? The hot and dusty wind blew in his face. The sea lapped at his boots. He was confused. He turned around and found the most peculiar sight. There were rows of tables lined up along the shore, and right in front of him, in place, stood a woman, dressed in a dark sweater, boots, and skirt. Who would wear a sweater in a desert?

“Welcome back Nathaniel.” She said with an evil smile. “You failed your test. Did you have a good dream?” the woman said and cackled.

Daniel shook his head. Something was terribly wrong. His armor started disappearing and slowly the world around him. Everything disappeared except for the paper in his hand. He sat at his desk, in very dusty English class looking at his failed exam on the Crucible. He was surrounded by the very same tables he found on the shore, with his English teacher Mrs. Wittington in front of him. He found himself alright, he found himself to be failing English class.