Aladdyn : Episode IV : Enter the Lamp

At the center of a void, a singularity pulsed unto a star, enlightening the realm.

A crystal sky opened over an expanse of golden dunes, some set with oases, resting along their banks. All the land was quiet. The surface of a small spring was tingling; humming vibrations, emanating of it. The oasis was illumining. A swarm of Shining Honeybees splashed out from its center. A torrent of Dark Serpents exploded of the enveloping foundation, pursuing the light-beams across the scene.

The bees zigzagged through the mazing slopes that the serpents fluently oscillated; the creatures, ebb-and-flowing in proximity to one another. At an exponential swoosh about a sandy-bendy, the darkness had nearly caught up to the luminous creatures. Two serpents at the head of the procession twisted together. With combined muscularity, they rippled a boost ahead of the tendrils. Entering the tail-end of the beam, they took a bite out of the colony. With the chomp, the guiding light beyond them forked about a Grate Dune unto which the two serpents collided.

The darkness following corrected its course sharply before proceeding to race across the scene after the rest of the bees. The buzzing and hissing faded in the distance. Atop the Grate Dune, the Youth blow-holed-up a lungful of sand and began coughing.

Upon his back, Holden was violently hacking. Hand to chest, he rolled over, holding himself up with his other arm; binoculars and bandanna, dangling from neck. Upon catching breath, he raised his head, blinking unfocused eyes. He felt dizzy, and for some reason, out of place; alone and isolated. As trying to discern why, he realized his memory was not working.

“What just happened?” he asked himself, “And why can’t I remember...”

The longer he thought, the more convinced he became that he had somehow gonged his noggin. It made sense, he thought. He did not know what he was doing on the ground when his sundial wristwatch chimed alert of the hour.

For several moments, the Youth looked on it, strangely. Though not much for clichés, he felt he could not express his sentiments more succinctly.

“Déjà vu...”

Amidst all his uncertainty, he looked up the Noon Sun. While beholding the vibrant sphere, he observed the vivid sky in the background. Between the golden brilliance amidst the blue canvas, the Youth was flushed with insight.

“Well I’ll be...” he said, “I musta hit my head. Can see in color for the first time since I can’t remember when.”

The Youth could not believe his eyes. For the majority of his youth, he had been blind to most shades of the spectrum. As staring towards the horizon, he found himself experiencing color at large, noting subtle hues all across the granular plains. Turning his attention to the Grate Dune beneath him, he observed the shallow oasis along its foundation.

Holden swallowed the dust from his gums. Stumbling to his feet, he rushed down the three-storied slope before sliding into the shore upon his knees. Cupping palms through the waters, he raised them then paused. Something he noticed about the oasis.

The drops trickled from his grasp as he beheld his reflection where his body was outlined with thin beams of light. Once empty handed, he turned his palms out before him but detected nothing; the shining, only visible in his reflection. Rubbing fingers together, he tried to decide if he could feel it. Uncertain, Holden thought maybe it was just a mirage. After more thought, he sat back on his calves and pondered further.

“What is this place?”

About a mile ahead was a High Hill, crowned with a black rock of monstrous aspect. Beyond the hill’s backside stretched the roughly level expanse of a Golden Plane. Along it’s other end, the plane swooped unto a Mammoth Mountain, which as far as he could tell, served the highest elevation in all the land.

“My...” he said, marveling, “How long you suppose it would take us to climb that one?”

As awaiting a response from his companion, he started to feel lonesome

“Girl?”

He scanned his surroundings. No sign of her. Getting to his feet, the Youth charged back up the slope. Atop the rounded dune, he palmed the binoculars at his chest and spun round, searching all corners of the compass. After the scan, he lowered the pair. The Mule was nowhere to be seen.

“Girl!”

His voice carried. Faded quickly.

“Don’t you worry, Girl,” said Holden, “We’ll find you... And the Caravan... And then our baby-boo, too...”

He tapped his boot.

“And what’s it mean when you’re consistently losing track of everybody?”

Unwilling to search himself for that answer, he brought the pair back to his eyes. Turning them over the wavy horizon, he crossed upon the High Hill. Adjusting his focus, he took a closer look.

The High Hill stood at nearly seven flights. The coal-black hulk of bedrock atop it resembled an anvil of monumental proportion. High above it, an iridescent ribbon was swaying along a vertical through the sky, rising from an object, set along the front edge of the Anvil Stone.

The Youth lowered his binoculars. Though squinting, he was still unsure of what he was seeing. He raised the pair again, fine-tuning its focus before steadying the pair upon the Crystal Lamp.

The multifaceted vessel appeared imbued with every shade of the rainbow. As marveling upon its range of color, the iridescent tendril above it continued rising of a glittery drop, dangling from its spout. With magnified attention fastened upon the bead, he noticed it was growing larger, increasing in volume. And then the bead dropped along a free-fall, parallel to the stone.

On its way down, the updraft carved the drop unto a chrysalis, which in turn, started shape-shifting, metamorphosing unto a butterfly that swooped via glide down the steeps of the High Hill. As the creature flew, a black and sparkly trail streaked of its flightpath; its trajectory, aimed to collide with the golden foundation. At the first pulse of wings, the butterfly unleashed a torrential flow of darkness.

Molten tar raged out the little wings, sloshing down the hill’s slope before swelling up via explosive proportions. Roaring through the sky, the title wave barreled towards the Grate Dune.

Slowly, the Youth lowered his binoculars; the distance between he and the tsunami, diminishing quickly. Nearing the halfway point between the High Hill and Grate Dune, the crest start tipping, plunging towards the ground. The face of the wave slammed upon the foundation.

With the sonic boom, Holden was rocked off his boots, hurled down to the dune-top. Wind knocked out him, he squirmed on his side, trying to breathe, watching through watery eyes as the rapids surged in his direction.

The darkness swashed across the banks, consuming them without trace along its race towards him. Not willing to be swallowed alive while grounded, the Youth pushed himself up. A heat-wave preceding the current waxed beads of perspiration across him.

“Hot...”

Spinning the bandanna about his neck, he wiped the sweat from his brow. Once drenched, he dropped it back to his chest, got to his feet, straightened his posture and squared his stance, ready to brace against the burn. The magma gushed about the sides of the Grate Dune.

The mound began slumping. As Holden’s foundation continued sinking beneath him, he beheld the darkness beyond him, which had completely replaced the golden realm between himself and the High Hill. Once the dune had sunk a story, it started slowing its dissolution, settling into place. The dune had been instantly reduced to an island, surrounded on all sides by a Bay of Black Lava.

Realizing there was still time to act, he stepped about the island, figuring as to what he had to do to free himself of the situation. The more he paced, the more he felt like a caged tiger. Steps later, he felt just as helpless. Upon stopping thinking all together, he gazed down the grade and watched the island slip into the darkness, liquefying the remaining grains, leaving only an iridescent film in their wake, glistening as gasoline upon the surface of the abysmal mire.

The terrain was not the only part of the environment suffering the effects of Black Lava Bay. As bubbles larger than lobster pots bulged and burst of the surface, they vomited exhaust unto the air. The smog of the pollution hung in the atmosphere, yellowing the shade of the Sun, transforming the shade of the sky from mustard-orange to that of dirty-blood.

“This can’t be happening...”

Overwhelmed by the events, he closed his eyes and pressed his fingertips to his temples.

“Learn to forget...” he said, revolving clockwise rotations. “Conscious breathing, all the time...” he added, inhaling deep and slow, “Calm, Collect, Control...”

After several revolutions, he folded hands at his center as though in prayer, experiencing his refreshed perspective. The Youth opened his eyes.

“Now discover a way to rise above this unnatural disaster...”

He was surrounded on all sides, his nearest safe-haven, the High Hill. Commanding himself to be undaunted by its distance, he assessed his resources for something he could ‘MacGyver Together’ in order to reach it. His pockets were empty. Neither the binoculars nor bandanna seemed to be offering any hints. Aside from his ratty bluejeans, busted boots, and accompanying laces to scoot, he decided he had very little to work with.

“Drat!”

Ahead of him, the glittery butterfly popped out a bubble along the shores of the Grate Island.

Following his initial surprise, Holden frowned on the insect that had cast this inferno upon him. Nonetheless, as watching it flutter overhead, he could not help but be reminded of the dream-like fantasy that at times was life. As it disappeared amidst the smog, his inclined sights caught on to a twinkling, roughly a mile beyond him.

“You...”

Across the diagonal and atop the High Hill, the Crystal Lamp was still upon the precipice of the Anvil Stone

“Look what you’ve done...”

He threw a hand out at the tar.

“Unleashed darkness upon us—and for what?” he demanded to know, “To spite my Destiny with one sweltery blow?”

Holden kicked his boot through the sand.

“Well ain’t this great,” he continued, pacing about, “Traveled thousands of miles practically, picked up all this experience, just for all it to be sucked up by liquid hot magma...”

Holden spit over the slope and unto the Black Lava Bay.

“Can’t even believe this is happening,” he said, “How I land myself in these situations? Why I bother even feeling as though I’ve some higher purpose to serve...”

Following the statement, Holden stopped pacing and gazed down the slope, into the molten abyss.

“Guess intuition is superstition, afterall...” he said, “Perhaps I best just end this...”

With a sprint-and-jump, he lunged down the Grate Island, sliding into the sands just above the seething shore. At a swipe, he scooped a hand through the golden sands and stood, squeezing his fist.

“Perhaps this is what comes of questing after a love you believe’s worth fighting for...”

The grains were spilling out from his clenched grip when he hurled the rest of the bits into the mire. Upon contact, sizzling hisses spit steamy wisps, waving up from the shimmery residue.

“Just don’t get it,” he said, “Did I not always keep an open mind? And remain true? Where along the way did I go wrong? Or was I just way off from the start?”

The Youth was still staring on the rainbow-swirls, spreading across the black surface from the grains he had cast.

“And why not go a bit further...”

Following the proposal, he looked up from the rainbow, across the distance, locking focus upon the creation at the summit of the High Hill.

“Profess our confidence in overcoming the darkness; you and I, together...”

Focused upon the Crystal Lamp, he extended his arm towards the Mammoth Mountain in the background.

“For lo, yonder highlands are awaiting to be surmounted...” he continued, nodding upon the vessel and his new tune. “And with a Long Lost Love, somewhere beyond, awaiting to be rescued, why not fancy this Lamp as one to wish upon?”

Stepping back from the superheated tide, the Youth dropped to his knees and folded palms before his chest.

“And with that, O Merciful Vessel, bestow upon us an opportunity to complete the journey we’ve begun. Do away with this darkness, at once—and for all!”

With hands still folded, the Youth looked about. He waited. Seconds later, he became impatient. Aside from the darkness rising, not much was happening.

“Heed this request, O Magical, Highly-Esteemed-and-Shiny Lamp...” he continued, “And suffice it to act fast... like, now, perhaps... and with Godspeed, and by all means relevant, on the humble behalf of a soul charged to triumph through this experience!”

Holden tried being patient up till realizing a third of the island had sunk unto Black Lava Bay.

“I implore you—one last time—make straight the Way, O Lamp, or else...”

As trying to think up an ultimatum, a bubble burst of the lava.

Droplets streamed up from the tide, arcing through the air and over the shore, ultimately burning into the bare skin of his shoulder.

“Yow’ch!”

The Youth jolted up so fast, the binoculars flew up from his chest and over his head. The pair splashed into the lava, as upon his back, he clutched to his shoulder. Lifting his hand, the three moles were surrounded with redness.

He stared blankly on the aligned spots; his lungs, dragging by the scorching temp. Over and again, the splattering background of the bubbling bog burst through his consciousness. He felt himself slipping to the heat delirium.

“Get up,” he said to himself, “Up. Need to get it together, now, babe...”

The Youth got to his feet and trudged up the dune. At the top, he fixed his posture and again, folded hands before his chest. Taking a deep breath, he looked up and across the diagonal. The Youth bowed unto the Lamp.

“Let it be as you wish...” he said, “No escape, granted...”

Opening his arms, the Youth inclined his attention to the Sun.

“May the darkness take me as I am...” he added, “Looking to the light.”

A pop exploded from the bay. Shrapnel of his binoculars flew through the air. Flames flickered up from what remained of the pair, slow-sinking unto the lava.

As watching them liquefy, the Youth found his focus blurring; his gaze, succumbing to the void. He was seeing his past, future, presence—his dreams and vision—being absorbed by the abyss. With every breath, he felt the heat weighing down his lungs, circulating heavy through his body. The delirium was taxing his mental stability. He was tiring of hearing—of seeing—the bubbles bursting all around him. Suddenly, his eyes sharpened on something directly ahead of him, not far beyond the shore.

At first, he had thought it to be just another bubble. He was have trouble believing what he was seeing. A black and primal skull was rising; a skeletal creature, advancing towards the shore.

Below the skull, a spine was connected to a human frame, emerging of the boiling resin. The darkness webbed down the rib rings, enclosed about a dark heart. The creature was climbing the slope of the Grate Island, heading directly towards Holden.

Upon setting foot atop the island, Dark Skeleton halted, extending its arm as two beams of white-light shone of its ocular hollows and unto the Youth.

MY ŽUN

The Word permeated the setting, rattling Holden with shock almighty. The resound knocked him unconscious even before his body hit the ground.