Etnan: The Forefather’s Letter

This is the first installment in the Etnan series. Etnan is a fantasy story with good morals and religious values weaved into it here and there. There are two more books in this series which are available as well, though not as thoroughly proofread as the first. Continue reading for an excerpt from the book. If you would like to read the rest of this book contact me via the About page.

Prologue

An Epistle of Silence

Have you ever stared at something for a long time and didn’t even notice what you were looking at? Or, have you ever been thinking so hard you forgot what it was you were trying to think of? Well, that is what Tom Seamas was doing on a certain day quite some time ago. The day seemed like an eventful day, like the kind of day where he just knew something was going to happen. Most of the time when Tom thought the day was going to be eventful he turned out to be wrong, but on this particular day, he had no idea just how eventful it was going to be.
Tom had his palms propped up under each side of his chin causing his cheeks to squish up near his eyes and partially block his view. He was sitting on the edge of his little dresser and staring out a tiny window in his small attic bedroom. He had been staring blankly into the distance for what must have been nearly an hour. The pond outside, where Tom’s gaze fell, was reflecting a thousand little pinpoints of light from the sun as it cast its reflection upon each little wave crest.
Despite the fact that the sun was shining and it seemed like a very good warm day, Tom knew the weather outside was quite chilly.
The wind was blowing somewhat fiercely and the temperature was not the kind that a young boy, only ten years of age, would like to play in. That was why Tom was indoors on this day. He had quite wanted to go outside and play near the foothills or in the pond, but he was trapped inside in his room just thinking about all the fun things he might have been able to do had the weather permitted it. Thinking about it for such a long time — and it seemed like a long time to a young boy — had made Tom’s mind wander in several different directions. He started thinking about brave warriors clashing swords and daring knights in battle, and other things that young boys like to dream about. Thinking all that time had made Tom forget what it was he had first begun to think about, for as soon as a new thought came he forgot the old ones and embraced the new one.
Tom just happened to be thinking about strange places and different worlds when he heard a loud thump behind him.
“Yikes!” Tom bellowed, leaping from his dresser and turning around. Surprisingly, there was no one in his room. Everything seemed to be just the way it had been before he had begun daydreaming. Nothing had been knocked off a shelf or had fallen to the floor. A bowl of chili still sat untouched on a little bookshelf in the corner of his room.
“Hmm?” Tom wondered. Then he decided that perhaps he had been thinking so hard that he had imagined something going “bump” in his room and had let his mind play a silly little trick on him. Tom straightened his shoulders and sat down on his little dresser again where he could stare out the window once more.
“Oh, how I wish it was a nicer day outside,” Tom grunted, setting his chin in his palms once again and resting his elbows on the thin window sill in his attic bedroom. — It wasn’t the type of window sill that a grown up could have rested elbows on very nicely, but it worked quite splendidly for a ten-year-old — “Dollie was gonna come over today and we were gonna go exploring in the foothills and go diving down deep in the pond.” Tom was just the type of boy who thought there must have been a deep hole in the pond, with lots of treasures in it, despite the fact that the bottom of the pond could be seen from almost anywhere a person chose to stand on the shore.
“Bother,” Tom complained, shaking his head as though he was trying to concentrate, when in reality he was just preparing himself to start thinking once again about the things that young boys think about. He did not think for a moment that Dollie would come over and play now. He would have called her up on the phone if he could have, but you see, telephones weren’t invented yet in his world. So he had to just sit there and wonder what might happen, and Tom was almost certain that something would happen, because it was, very much so, that sort of eventful day in Tom’s mind.
Another sudden loud noise frightened Tom and caused him to jump.
“Oh shucks!” Tom groaned, as he realized what the noise was. “It’s just thunder! If it rains it will certainly spoil all of my fun, and Dollie’s mother will have to keep her home and then we’ll have no fun at all!”
Although what Tom could see of the sky was a beautiful blue, he knew that the rest of the sky that he couldn’t see, must have been gray and gloomy.
Tom reached forward and untied the three latches on his window and pulled it out of its hole. (Windows where Tom lived didn’t open and close like the windows we have today.) Instantly a strong gust of wind surged into the room and began tossing things about. The blankets on his bed were unfolded in the wind; and a few papers were swirled about the room, seemingly creating a miniature tornado.
Tom ignored the mess it was making in his room and stuck his head out of the little hole as far as he possibly could, to try to look at more of the sky. There most certainly were dark gray clouds, and also some that were almost black.
“Aw shucks!” Tom shouted as quietly as a shout could be, as he pulled his head back inside and proceeded to put the little window back in its place with
much difficulty. It isn’t easy putting a window in when it is quite windy outside and it makes a trying time for a young boy. Just as Tom got the window back into its place and secured the third and final latch, he heard another loud crash. This time he was certain it was in his room, and it was not the thunder.
Once again he slid off his little dresser and quickly wheeled around to see what had happened. He was quite prepared to see something that had fallen off the shelf in the wind and had been broken or shattered. He wasn’t looking forward to things being broken, however, because he was afraid that he would be sorely scolded by his mother or father when they found out. What Tom saw though was completely unexpected.
Nothing had fallen to the floor; in fact even the papers that had blown around earlier were all back where they had been before he had opened the window. His bed covers were also folded nicely again, as they had been before the wind struck them. Everything was exactly how it had been before he had opened the window, even the bowl of chili.
Now, you might think that this frightened Tom quite a lot, seeing everything back the way it had been before, but if you thought that you would be mistaken. Remember that Tom had been thinking of weird things for almost an hour — which is quite long indeed for a young boy — and he was expecting something weird. Instead of being frightened, Tom was excited. He thought it was neat.
“Glorious!” Tom shouted, clasping his hands together. Then he did something that one might consider foolish after seeing such strange things. He turned his back to his room and shut his eyes, then waited. After ten seconds — Tom counted them out as evenly as possible — he quickly turned around to see if anything else had changed. Tom was somewhat disappointed to see that his room was exactly how he had left it before he had shut his eyes, but he wasn’t about to give up. So he carefully walked over to the bowl of chili and moved it onto the post which made up a part to the head of his bed.
After Tom had perfectly balanced the bowl on the small post, so it wouldn’t fall, he turned his back, shut his eyes and began to count again.
When the ten-second time limit was up, Tom found the bowl of chili still balancing on the bedpost.
“Rats and mold!” Tom huffed, obviously dissatisfied. He then waddled his way back near his window — Tom wasn’t a fat boy, but he waddled nevertheless because of disappointment — where he could try to think of some new ways to test the strange events of the day, and that’s when it happened.
Sitting on the little windowsill was a rolled up paper that seemed almost too ancient to handle. It was a dingy brown color and although it was quite thick and had the texture of a cloth of some sort, it seemed as though it would fall apart with the slightest touch.
Once again Tom clasped his hands together and walked slowly towards the rolled up paper.
As he drew nearer, he noticed that there was something written on it, for he could see ink that had leaked through the thick fabric-like paper. In the center of the paper roll, right where the paper line was, Tom could see a large blob of what seemed to be a seal of purple wax and there was an image of a little ship on a stormy sea placed deep into the wax. The wax was melted onto the paper and kept the paper from unrolling.
“Glorious,” Tom whispered, or at least he meant to whisper, but his voice was tight and it didn’t make any sound at all. His hands trembled slightly as he reached forward and attempted to pick up the piece of paper. He was quite surprised to find that the ancient thing did not crumble to pieces in his hands, as a matter of fact, it held together quite well.
After Tom had split the wax and removed the seal — very carefully of course, so it wouldn’t tear the paper — he opened the paper and laid it out flat on his dresser top. The edges were very stubborn and did their best to roll back up again. Tom decided that this made reading the strange parchment somewhat difficult so he placed a book on two opposite corners of the paper. Doing this kept the paper open enough that he could read it.
He was very interested indeed in the strange handwriting in which the note was written. It seemed to flow, almost majestically, as if the words were alive and speaking to him. Whoever wrote the note must have practiced very hard to get handwriting that could be so intricate and beautiful while still maintaining a form that was very easy to read.
The thing that surprised Tom most about the note was that there was one word that was not somewhat faded like the rest. This one word seemed to have been written in modern day ink and, although it was written with the same flowing handwriting, it seemed to have been written very recently. This one word was Tom’s own name, and the paper read as follows:

This parchment is addressed to you, Tom, and has been written as a method of transportation.
A solemn vow of silence you must now undertake
To hold to laws and promises that come beyond the way,
To hold within the mind-set of a single glorious hope
And keep alive the silence of ten seconds in your hold.
Time passes very quickly and silence it must be
If you are to obtain this travel victory.
You need not count nor hold in wait nor wander to any given place;
Just keep silent, say not a word, let patience take you away.

Of course, Tom did not understand this strange riddle-like message. He moved his face in closer to examine further the contents of the paper, thinking that perhaps there was some little clue or something written in little tiny letters, or maybe he was supposed to hold it up to the moonlight to see what was else written there.
The wind outside could still be heard blowing and the little pond was still glistening with the sunlight; but Tom was so fascinated by the paper that he gave them no thought.
Tom wondered if perhaps it was a map to a secret treasure. He was even more curious as to how it had gotten there. He was positive he had seen no one in his room, and since it was such a small room, there really was nowhere that one could hide.
Several silly thoughts and other such things passed through Tom’s mind, but it would take so very long for me to tell you about them all, and it really all happened in a matter of only a few seconds, so it is probably best if I leave Tom’s thoughts to himself.
But, as he was standing there thinking, he suddenly realized that his mind thought the word “ten.” Tom hadn’t realized it, but in the back of his mind he had been counting to ten. Maybe he was still trying his little trick to try to make things change, or maybe he just suddenly started counting without any good reason at all, but he somehow knew that he had begun counting the moment he had finished reading the paper and had just now reached ten.
The moment Tom had said “ten” to himself in his mind, the room suddenly shook a small bit, or so Tom thought it must have, because the bowl of chili fell off of the bedpost and spilled all over the hard wooden floor. The bowl broke into pieces, but strangely the shattering sound was much too loud. It seemed to echo so far that Tom thought even Dollie could have heard it at her house several walking minutes away. At that same moment he realized the word “ten” was still echoing in his mind and repeating itself in constant vibrations, each one becoming louder and more bass-filled than the first.
The echoing sounds grew so extremely loud and strong, that Tom was sure if anyone was to put an ear up to his, he or she could hear the word vibrating in his mind.
As a matter of fact, all the sounds were beginning to vibrate. Pieces from the shattered bowl and sloshing chili on the floor, combined with the sound of the wind outside, began vibrating together in deep pulses that seemed to shake the room. After a mere three seconds, the noises had become so loud that Tom brought his hands up to cover his ears in an attempt to drown them out. He was disappointed, however, to find that when he did this, the word “ten” was beating so fiercely upon his mind that it was almost worse to have his ears covered than uncovered. Then in an instant it all stopped. It stopped so quickly that Tom fell to the floor. He had been trying to keep out all the noise and when it suddenly stopped, he lost balance and fell down.
Tom quickly got to his feet again and looked around, half expecting to see his mother standing at the doorway ready to chastise him sorely for his breaking the bowl and being so noisy.
Another thing that made him rise so quickly was that he was afraid that someone might have seen him fall and he certainly did not want to be laughed at. As Tom rose to his feet he looked around his room and found that, other than the chili mess, there was nothing ruined.
“By thunder!” Tom shouted. He wasn’t sure why he had felt so much like shouting, but for some reason he had. It hadn’t been an angry shout as one might expect, but a shout of surprise.
He quickly stumbled over to the window — I say stumbled because he was still somewhat dizzy from the beating of the word “ten” on his mind — and peered out. Everything outside was just the same as he had always remembered . . . or was it?
You see, everything was different, but Tom felt as though he knew this place. Everything seemed to fit in right where it was. But somewhere in the back of Tom’s mind he knew that this wasn’t the same place he was raised in. The room was still the same, but outside was entirely different.
If Tom hadn’t been so excited and been trying so hard to concentrate on his surroundings — in an effort to make it feel as though this really was the world he had always known — he would have noticed his friend Dollie slowly disappearing at the doorstep down below him as she raised her fist to knock upon the door. And he would have thought that it wasn’t really her disappearing, but rather, it was himself as he slowly left the world he had once been in and entered a new realm; one which he thought he knew, but at the same time it was entirely new and unusual to him.