Zos quest book one, p.1
Zo's Quest: — Book One —, page 1
Zo’s Quest
— BOOK ONE —
Abigail Ortiz
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2023 Abigail Ortiz
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner, except for the use of quotations in a book review.
First paperback edition May 2023
www.AbigailOrtiz.com
ISBN 979-8-9880111-0-1 (paperback)
ISBN 979-8-9880111-1-8 (ebook)
Published by KMAO
DEDICATION
For Quest,
for all my Mahdi’s,
for Pahana,
for my only Augur,
for my company,
for the Three,
“There is no fear in love…”
(1 John, chapter 4, verse 18)
PROLOGUE
Zo wakes, startled and blinded by an intense light flooding her room.
She blinks and covers her eyes, but the light is all-consuming.
What is this? Quest better not be pranking me, he knows how I feel about my sleep. She takes a deep breath and sits up, motionless in the penetrating awe of it. No. There’s no way he’d do this, at least not now. He was so messed up last night—
“Quest!”
She gets up and fumbles for the door.
“QUEST?”
There is no door.
CHAPTER 1
She frantically feels around, Where’s my pillow? And blanket? Where’s the bed?
The bright light still permeates her vision. She continues reaching out for—anything, and finally loses her balance and falls.
She crosses her legs and sits still, defeated, unable to escape the light, and rubs the necklace charm of her family’s crest between her thumb and her fingers.
“Quest,” she whispers, then yells, “Quest! Where are you?”
“Quest,” squawks an unfamiliar voice, “Quest? Quest! QUEST!”
What? Who the heck? Who talks like that?
The distant voice is coming closer, “You are on a quest, you say? HUMPH.” (It’s nearer) “We’re all on a quest! How rude of you to assume you’re the only one.”
As she listens, her eyes begin to adjust.
“Why, life itself is a quest.”
Squinting, a dark form emerges through the light.
“A quest for purpose!”
It’s a bit clearer now.
“A quest for understanding!”
The figure stops in front of her.
“For knowledge. Peace!”
All around, things are taking shape.
“Quest, indeed. HUMPH.”
She can now make out the large, yellow eyes glaring down at her.
“Stop sniveling! It’s not becoming—and frankly rather distracting. Get up! GET UP!” It flaps massive wings at her. “Continue on your quest.”
The oversized bird leans down and is now face-to-face with Zo. He’s at least the size of an average man. His feathers are the kind of deep, dark black that reflects blue when the light hits it just right. He wears a satchel slung over his wing and resting against his belly. His only distinguishable facial features—apart from a broad and shiny beak—are those huge, piercing yellow eyes.
“HMM? Come now! On your feet. You’re just short of the crossroad. Up, up! Be on your way. Pick your path and find your quest. Settlement ought never be an option. Come now! Up, up, up!” As he speaks, his wings beat about and his head twists and turns side-to-side, up and down and even upside-down.
Eyes wide and unbelieving, Zo finds herself in the middle of a vast forest.
“How? Where—how did I get here?”
“How? HOW? You find your own answers on your quest! HUMPH. You’ve come this far, aye? Surely only you know how you’ve traveled until now. No one can walk your journey for you, only you can choose your path. Come now, keep going. If you stop, you’ll just be like any other of these nameless travelers.” He looks around. “Pathetic forest. Time wasted. Cursed Wanderlands.” Then returning his attention to her, he adds, feathers fluttering in fury, “On your way, now! On your way! The crossroad is just beyond that pass.” The bird points.
Zo stands up. Her breath stops short as her surroundings settle into vision.
Travelers are everywhere.
Some are clearly people, but many of these travelers are creatures. Most of them carry packs of supplies. Others bear literal mounds, like shells garnishing snails, their life’s possessions are stowed in the mass on their backs. But a scattered few hold little more than their clothing. There are several pacing to and fro, like they can’t find their way.
For every one in motion, more are resting. At first glance, some seem to be engaged in conversation, but it soon becomes quite obvious that no one is listening to anyone else. Zo is an audience of one to a world of ongoing monologues, each engrossed in retelling of their story.
“So I’s said, I’s had ‘nough! I’s not goin`…”
“Then thems left. Jus` up an` gone. And now I’ms alone ‘cause thems…”
“I DON’T CARE NO MORE!”
“Happy rights here. Comfortable. Er`thing me want’s me gots here…”
“I coulda been an Other, but thems Others held me back. Thems knew I was better…”
“I’s the greatest! No one’s best me record still! I’s the best then and now— YOUS HEAR?”
On and on and on in endless ramble.
Still there are a scattered few who appear quite comfortable, occupying the land as though they’ve found security amidst the babbling white noise.
But by and large, the majority have simply settled down, creating makeshift shelters out of the supplies they possess and the natural resources provided by the woods.
And these settled are becoming part of the very land which they reside. Limbs grow indistinguishable from rocks and trees, seamlessly transitioning from individual to nature as flawlessly as a trunk becomes roots and roots become grounded.
The sweet, familiar scents of pine, eucalyptus and cedar flood Zo, and she’s overcome by a strange dread and a cold shiver crawls up her spine—
What if all the trees in this forest were once like these who are settled down? Is that what the bird meant? Did they all get so stuck in their places that they could no longer separate themselves from the land they camped on—they grew into it?
Rubbing her arms to hush her standing hairs, she mutters, “I must be dreaming.”
“HUMPH.”
The bird’s head reappears in her vision, his wings are fastened to his hips. “I knew it. You were thinking of settling, weren’t you? I KNEW it!” He throws his pinions in the air. “Why do I continue to try?”
He turns away, still talking to himself, and feathers flustered, gestures as wildly as he did before. “Every time I tell myself, ‘It’s just going to suck time away from my own quest.’ And every time, I ignore myself, only to prove myself correct—every time! HUMPH. Not anymore! Never again, I say! That’s what I say! But then again that is what I always say…”
Zo takes a deep breath and looks around. Nothing makes sense. She looks back at the kooky, big bird getting farther and farther away. At least he has some handle on whatever’s going on here, wherever here is.
“Hey, uh, excuse me!” She hurries after. “What’s your name?”
Still rambling to himself, he doesn’t realize she’s in tow.
She raises her voice, “AHEM. Please? Pardon me, but I don’t know your name?”
Without slowing his stride, he turns his head over his wing and peers sideways at Zo with one large, yellow eye. “Nice to see you’ve decided to continue your quest. We’ll see how long it is before you settle.” He looks back ahead and his feathers calm. “My name is Mahdi. And you are?”
“Mahdi, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” She keeps pace. “Please, I don’t know how I got here. And I don’t know where my brother is. I was sleeping, and I left him in the living room, and I woke up to this incredibly bright light, and I called for him—Quest is my brother’s name actually—and then you came, and the light faded, and now here we are.”
Mahdi makes no attempt to acknowledge her.
She bites her lip, speeds up, and cuts him off. Placing her hand on his wing, the bird halts mid-stride.
“Please? Please, you seem to know something about this place. At least you have some sort of direction, and you were kind enough to stop and try to help me along. Please, would you help me find my brother?” A tear swells. Struggling to hold it back, she desperately searches Mahdi’s sharp eyes.
“OH!” His feathers fluff and he crosses his wings. “Humph. I am a soft bird for sad eyes.”
She lets out a small laugh, but holds his gaze.
“Alright. Alright!” He flaps himself free from her touch. “But the only way I can help you is to help you along YOUR quest for as long as our paths meet. That’s all I know how to do. I haven’t found anyone along my quest except for those I have met on the journey. But I have seen that nothing good comes to those who go looking for another who isn’t on their own path. Your quest MUST be your OWN. Humph. You cannot simply follow another. We may journey together for a time, but we will go our own ways eventually, and if you choose to follow me, it may prove to be fatal for
His feathers ruffle again, and he uses his wings to brush them smooth. “I will help you along your quest, until our paths go separate ways. Keep up. Pay attention. Come now!”
CHAPTER 2
As they walk, the forest thins and the ground hardens. A clearing reveals an immense mountain stretching across the horizon as far as the eye can see, and so tall its peak stands somewhere beyond the clouds.
A wide, beaten road is stretched out before them. It’s as though many roads—trampled out by centuries of trailblazers traveling from every direction, all headed to the same destination—merged their paths into one. It spans the breadth of an industrial freeway, and its destination is a makeshift metropolis where mud huts and skinned tents stand, and goods, supplies and food are sold and bartered.
“The Crossroads at last,” Mahdi whispers.
“‘Crossroads’?” Zo looks around. “This is a market—like an entire city sized bazaar. I don’t see a crossroad. It looks like every road lead here.”
“The Marketplace, yes. The Market may help us along the quest. Look,” he spreads out his wings, “the wide road continues on, around the great mountain. Most travelers take this road. It is the easy road to take.”
Then he lifts a single feather.
“But there, just beyond the large tree at the foot of the mountain where the bright river passes, over beyond those tents, do you see? It is the beginning of the narrow path that leads over the mountain. Look, see? There are other trees too that align it, not far from the great tree.” He puts both wings on his hips and straightens. “Few take the narrow road—a very few. It’s quite difficult.”
He drops his voice again and leans forward as he gazes toward the walking trail, “That’s the road I’m taking.”
The sight of the tree (even at this distance) is enough to steal Zo’s breath.
It’s an imposing mass that very well appears as wide as it is tall. Its bark is a brilliant white, but also glistens with flicks of silver. Its leaves bear every color, as though it is entering an autumn change, but more colorful with brilliant pinks and purples, rich greens and blues accenting the vibrant reds, oranges and yellows and even gold. Its branches sway ever so gently and its leaves shimmer like dancing rainbows in the breeze, yet never shed.
It is quite apparent that this tree is not experiencing a death of seasons; rather, it stands proud and in its very prime—even though its size assumes it is an ancient wonder.
The tree is grounded in the midst of, and stretches across the river itself. Massive roots reach out of the water from the far bank where the narrow road begins, across to the near side where the wide road intercepts it. This natural bridge is itself the very site of the crossroad.
The river glows in the late afternoon light, as though a hidden source of brightness lies beneath its depths.
The narrow road isn’t nearly as distinguishable. Save for the trees marking the trail’s head, it seems to vanish into the shadow of the ominous mountain. Zo can’t make out a single traveler moving that way.
“Why would anyone take that road?” she wonders aloud as the noise and bustle draws her attention back to the wide road.
“Come now!” Mahdi ignores her. “I need sustenance.”
But Zo doesn’t move.
Look at all these—well, they’re not all people.
She’s taken by the variety of travelers. Many, like Mahdi, are familiar beasts. There are other oversized birds of assorted colors, profiles and plumes. And there are many other animals that stand and walk upright. Even giant insects roam about.
But also the trees are alive. They’re personified, like those she encountered when she woke up. Except these are not grounded. Here they slither silently atop the earth, their roots gliding and tumbling like knots of snakes.
All travelers dress in their own unusual garb, but everyone’s clothing seems to be made by hand, reminding her of pictures she’s seen in history books. Wait—what am I wearing? She looks down to find she too is dressed in unfamiliar clothes.
The brutal shock of awakening in the light is finally fading in comparison to the overwhelming discomfort she feels in the midst of this alien commotion.
What is this place? How did I get here? Where is Quest? Is this a dream? Why doesn’t this feel like my dreams?
Mahdi has continued on.
Sniffing the air, he catches a scent that brings the beginnings of a smile to his staunch beak. “Yes.” He exaggerates his breathing. “Yes, very good.” And taking another deep breath, he points a feather. “Come now, this way!”
Looking over his shoulder, he beckons his new companion along, only to realize just how far behind she is.
“Maddening! MADDENING, I say!” He marches back to where Zo stands still in the middle of the wide road, and grabs her shoulder. “Are you with me?”
She gazes through him for an extended moment.
Then the blue tint shining through his feathers lit by the setting sun brings her back to herself. “Mahdi! Yes! I’m sorry. It’s all just so… odd and unfamiliar. I—”
“HUMPH.” He crosses his wings. “You’re sorry it’s odd? Or that it’s unfamiliar?”
Her eyebrows furrow as she stares at her companion. What is that supposed to mean— “No! That—no, that’s not what I meant.” She gently places her hand on his crossed wings. “I’m sorry I got distracted. I’ve never been anywhere like this before. I won’t let it happen again.”
“Well, then humph. I suppose you won’t be opposed to buying us some eats?” He holds his head high and slightly angled, and peers down at her with one almost closed eye.
“It would be my honor, Mahdi, but I don’t know if I even have any money.”
“HUMPH! Of course I find the helpless traveler who’s without coin. too!” He throws his wings into the air. “Come now, I need food! And you could do for some eats too, I’ve no doubt. Come, come!”
He leads her into the market, to a stand exuding a repugnant odor, like heavy, burnt frying oil mixed with something she’s not familiar with, and lots of steam.
“I want the biggest one you have.” He sits at an open stool. “And she’ll take—humph, what size grub do you want?”
She’s still adjusting to the stench. “What size what?”
“Your grub!”
“What’s a ‘grub’?”
The nearness of stating his hunger makes him more impatient by the second. Signaling the merchant, he turns to enlighten his acquaintance. “Grub,” his beak is clenched, “G-R-U-B. Grub. Only the most succulent, mouthwatering, tender, delicious, deep-fried, protein packed, larva there is!”
“Larva?”
“Yes, larva!” Her blank stare exacerbates him. “Maggot. Squishy little bug baby! You don’t know what larva is?”
Her eyes narrow on what she had only assumed to be large balls of dough being dropped in vats of hot grease. Those are humongous maggots? “I— I—” She leans in to whisper, “Mahdi. I don’t think I can eat that.”
“WHAT?” He looks as though he’s going to molt. “They’re delectable! Why, you won’t find food like this—”
Her eyes plead as she continues whispering, “Please, Mahdi. Please don’t make me eat that.”
“HUMPH. Well why don’t you go find something more pleasing to YOUR palate than? I’m staying right here.” He reaches into his satchel and hands Zo a few tiny chips of precious stones. “Take this for exchange. They’ll buy whatever your stomach fancies.”
“Order up!”
A mammoth, deep-fried maggot with both ends hanging over the plate is dropped in front of Mahdi. His eyes open wide, examining his feast. A true smile breaks his beak for the first time since she’s met him. He uses both wings to raise the colossal bug like an oversized sub, and slowly expands his salivating beak.
Zo quickly turns away and begins her search for something more… edible.
CHAPTER 3
Scouring the market for where actual people gather, she can’t help but be drawn to a rowdy crowd, moving synchronously like a mob, back and forth, while randomly bursting out in laughter.
Local entertainment?
