Return to the Beginning

“Well,” Bruce said, “Here we are. Brysworth Island. The home of the Brysworths for three successive generations and the home of the Brysworth Megacorporation for twice as long. Built with reclaimed land from an old volcanic underwater mountain peak. The island has three docks, a small town, even a hot air balloon station – and then there's Brysworth Manor itself. A grand building with over three hundred staff living in and around it, with over a thousand rooms and walls built of marble and gold. Magmatic vents provide cheap and constant heat to the building. The cellars stretch down nearly ten meters, and the highest point of the building – that is, the Great Tower – is over a hundred meters tall. There's a moat, dungeons, and a chapel. The storerooms are cooled by great pipes laid years ago stretching into the deep ocean. The whole building is supported by a mesh-and-girder grid of refined runite. This isn't just a home – this is a palace.”

“Thanks for the exposition,” Hecate replied, “Your home seems to be a significant step away from this, though. Who's going to keep hold of it?”

Bruce smiled. “I intend to keep my pleasant little home, unless things get too bad. No, Brysworth Island will pass into the hands of one of my siblings – and that's a long time away, considering how well Father is going.”

“You never said you had a family!”

“Didn't I? The island is currently the property of Ben Brysworth III, who married Jane Brysworth nearly forty years ago. First came Ben IV, then me, then James Brysworth, and finally little William Brysworth. Not that any of them are here – Ben is assessing damage in Catherby, James has been sailing around the Southern Ocean for at least a year, and Will is brokering a financial deal in Kandarin. He's also a hedge funder, would you believe.”

“I'm sure you've got a lot of stories about this place,” Hecate told him.

“Well...”

“....Happy Birthday to you!” The family cheered as Will blew out the candles on his birthday cake, all eleven in one go. Ben and Bruce, however, were quiet as the celebrations went on, tired and bored. Although there were almost three years between them, the two were close friends, and being the eldest of the extended family only caused them greater alliance. Bruce, fifteen, and Ben, who for just a few more weeks would be seventeen, hung around in the corner, waiting to grab a piece of the whopping cake each and spend the evening browsing around the island, perhaps doing some fishing before it became too dark to do anything else. The cake was cut, and pieces were being handed round to cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents, and islander friends – Bruce and Ben waited until the optimal time to strike. Beria, the servant, cut a large chunk out, and Bruce darted ahead to snatch it off her. Moments later Ben had procured an equally large piece of chocolate and icing, and the two headed out to the pavilion to look out over the town below.

“Mmm...” Bruce muttered, as took a large chunk out of the slice, “That's a good cake. I can't believe the mini gets the best chunks, though.”

“Chunk, you mean,” corrected Ben, “Once everyone gets through the cake will be gone. So we might as well savour this.”

“I intend to,” Bruce declared, as he ate another piece. The summer was here, and the sun stayed high in the sky until well into the evening. It was just half past five, and the sun, although starting to descend, still lit the island with a warm glow. The boys sat down at a table which overlooked the bay, around which a small fishing village lay. For a few minutes, they talked and joked, generally about their younger brother and all their cousins coming to visit.

“Still,” Bruce told Ben, “At least it's only a couple of times a year. And even then it'll drop as the mini and hair-boy grow old enough to realise that they're actually annoying. Mind you, I guess a few of them aren't so bad – Albert, Sarah, Lewis, Freya.”

“Speak of the devil,” Ben replied, “Here come two of them. Hey guys! Over here!”

The sixteen year old twins Albert and Lewis walked over to them. “Hey Ben,” Albert said, “Alright, Brucey-boy?”

“Shut up, Loser-is,” Bruce cheerfully replied. “We're doing well. We were off to look around the island later – you know, waste time whilst they spoil the mini.”

“Going round the island, eh? Mind if we tag along?” asked Lewis.

“No snide comments and you've got a deal,” Bruce told them.

“Cool!” Albert said, “Are we going by any of the villages? Cos, well...”

“Albert, we know what you're gonna say, and is that all that you ever think about?”

Albert looked abashed at Bruce's interruption. But he concurred.

“Come on,” Ben said, “We found a great cave over on the East Side. We've already loaded it up with a stash of food and some weapons we stole. We were going to build up a little home-away-from-home, but we needed a bit of help.”

“You had us at the weapons,” Lewis said in a thespian tone. They jumped over one the low walls and started to walk out across the large plain of carefully-trimmed grass. It took almost ten minutes to cross, before a line of palm trees marked out its boundaries. Behind it lay an expanse of tropical rainforest. A vague path could be seen, from where Bruce and Ben had hacked through the undergrowth with stolen machetes. Through the evening light they crept through the plants until finally they emerged on the other side. The land here was wild, a meadow, and it suddenly plunged several meters until it reached another, smaller meadow which acted as a shield before the sea. The waves were calm; it was low tide currently.

“So, uh... where's this cave?” Albert asked.

“Follow me,” Bruce said. They walked past a number of rock outcrops, until they reached a sloping crater in the ground. The edges were rocky and it was about two meters to the bottom. Inside this lay another, narrower hole, which led into an inky blackness. Albert and Lewis looked at each other with an expression of insecurity. “Wimps,” Bruce sneered, “Too afraid?” He looked at Ben. “Too much time listening to their father about the gross and net income of the fishery.”

Ben smiled, his arms folded across his chest. “Fortunately for you two, we were kind enough to nick a ladder.” He moved back a pile of wild plants. A wooden ladder, lashed together with rope, lay beneath. Ben picked it up, lowered it into the hole, and offered it to them. “Ladies first.”

Albert gave him a dirty look. “I thought we had a deal – no snide comments.”

“Meh,” Bruce shrugged as the two clambered down. He jumped onto the rocks that rimmed the crater and slithered down. Ben merely jumped in. The four boys looked down into the hole. “Who's going in first?” Lewis asked.

“Ben, always.” Bruce answered their question with a glance to his elder brother, who nodded. He stood up from his crouch, walked forward, sat on the side of the hole, and slipped in. There was an echoing grunt as Ben hit the floor.

Then a scream.

“Ben!” Bruce yelled into the hole. “Ben! You alright?” The screaming went on. “Ben! BEN!” Then there was silence. Bruce darted his head back up, and looked at the other two. His face was pale.

“Got a torch?”

“Light rune,” Lewis replied, pulling a grey tablet out of his pocket and handing it to Bruce. Bruce touched it, and it hummed into life, a powerful white glow emerging from it. Bruce plunged his head into the hole, and moved the rune about, trying to illuminate the cave. On one side the equipment was in fine condition - although the area underneath the hole, and leading into the maze of unexplored caves was chaotic, destroyed. Ben was nowhere to be seen. But there were a lot of strange imprints.

“Come with me,” Bruce told the twins, as he slipped into the hole. He landed below, and ran to turn on the lamps. A dim orange glow filled the caves. “Well? Aren't you two coming down?”

“Erm...” he heard Lewis say, “I think we'll go and get help.”

“Me too,” Albert said. Then silence filled the cave. Bruce muttered silence under his breath, mostly curses and swears. Then he turned and started descending into the cold, dank caves.

“Ben!” he cried, “Ben! Are you okay?” There was no response, but Bruce heard a strange rushing noise up ahead.

He followed it. Eventually he reached a fork in the route, the echo distorting which one the sound emanated from. He chose the one on the right, walking carefully through it. It got colder as he walked past, with frost condensing on the walls. He could see his breath as he exhaled, in the glow of the light rune. The rushing sound grew louder as we walked forward. Then, he heard a moan of pain. “Ben...?” Bruce wondered. He started walking faster. Then he broke out into a run.

“Ow!” he cried as suddenly his foot hit a frosty surface, sending him spiraling up into the air. Painfully, he landed on his back. It hurt, but Bruce was strong enough to resist the ache and he slowly got up again. But as he did he noticed he had dropped the light rune. Looking around, he saw it standing on a rock. Slowly Bruce walked over to pick it up – and then he dropped.

He crashed onto an even colder floor below. His hands felt the intense iciness as the frost literally covered his hands. Immediately he lifted his hands up to stop the coldness encroaching any further. Standing up, he noticed that this area was illuminated – dim white lights showed him that he was in a large cavern, filled with various pumps and tanks, and a confusing network of pipes. In the centre of the room, surrounded by metal gantries, were vast metal pipes.

“Coolers...” Bruce muttered to himself. Then he heard a cry. “Ben!” Bruce yelled.

“I'm here! Bruce! I'm here!” Bruce heard his brother's voice and ran to where it was coming from. He found his brother tied to a chair, with cuts on his body and blood smeared on his face.

“What happened to you?” Bruce asked, but Ben didn't respond. He was looking over Bruce's shoulder, to something behind him. Bruce turned and looked. A tall, grey-haired man with cruel features was looking over to him.

“Together again?” The man said in an evil voice, “Good. Twice the punishment.” The man laughed and seized Bruce. “You two will make a fine payback for your father's meddling in my affairs.”

“Who are you?” Bruce asked, struggling.

“Who am I? I am an old enemy of your father. I used to dominate the market for the wood processing industry. Then your father started Brysworth Lumber. I was out of business in months. I tried again in construction industry, but Brysworth Construction crushed my company before it could get off the ground. I tried once more in food, but that ended in disaster as I was bought out by – guess who – your father. He's run my career into the ground, and I intend to run his pride and joy into the ground. The revenge is quite appropriate – my last hope was through frozen food. I'm going to pay him back by freezing you two to miniature icebergs. These pipes which you use to keep your food stores cool will help. Maybe then I'll be equal with him.”

“You're insane!” Bruce yelled, “You're mad!”

“Am I?” the man said, “Or am I just one man out for revenge? You two will never know. In fact – urrkk.”

Bruce had performed a trick he had learned from his favourite adventure fiction novels – catch the villain whilst he was in a monologue with a quick strike. In this case, it was clearly enough to knock the man unconscious. Bruce and Ben watched uncomfortably as the frost on the floor crept up and covered him. His skin turned white, stretching and clinging to the metal walkway. Then, Bruce quickly untied Ben from the chair.

“You alright?” he asked.

“I'm fine.”

“...Eventually we realised that the pipes were accompanied with several walkways up to the Manor. We found one and followed it up. It took almost an hour but we finally arrived home. Ben got patched up immediately, and the next day Father sent out a team of his hired security to find the man. They got him alright, but he was almost dead. I never found out his name, or what happened to him.”

“What else happened?” Hecate asked.

“That was when I realised my adventure novels weren't all fabricated – things like that did happen. From that moment on I knew that I had to become an adventurer, not a businessman. Ben was too shaken by the experience to follow my path, though.”

“What about your cousins?”

“Lewis and Albert? I got to them after I came back, and found out how weak they really were. I got both of them down in minutes, after which they apologised for being cowards. Anyway, enough of that story – let me show you the wonders of Brysworth Island!”