Travel to Sockland

Chapter 13

Time was a blur to Arnie as he proceeded through the next series of events with the pencil people. He did sleep, but he was never sure for how long (It certainly didn't seem like long.) Time itself was a blur. He had no idea how many days had passed since he arrived in this place. The days were strange and unchanging. The nights the same as the days. There were no clocks and no one seemed to acknowledge time.

It turned out that, due to their predictions of a human saviour, they had a house for a human. He hadn't seen it when he first arrived as it stood at the opposite end of the village. But, it was set up and looked just like a normal house, the only exception being that the colours were strange. There was an abundant supply of food like that which he ate in the chambers of the leader. He was, and felt, very well looked after.

His training had begun straight after his first sleep in the village. A thick pencil by the name of Labarog was his teacher. Arnie noticed that other pencils showed an immense respect for this pencil as they encountered him around the village.

Labarog didn't talk much however, sticking only to what was needed for the training. Arnie was shown the defenses of the village and was trained in pen/pencil combat. He was shown the weaknesses of both sides and he was trained in the strengths of both sides. He was given physical exercises to do and mental and problem solving challenges.

However, the most trying part of his training was when he was confronted with teams of attacking pencils. His job was to defend himself and to capture and neutralize the group. He had been given a sack, made of cloth, and the task was to get the pencils into the sack. Eventually, after many beatings, scratches and bruises, he managed to beat and capture them. After the first win, he took on larger and larger groups. He got wise to their moves and began to win faster. After a while, he began to belive he could be of help in this war.

Despite everything they had been through in this war, the pencils didn't like the idea of killing the pens. He was to capture them in the sack and bring them to the village. Killing was definitely a last resort in all cases. Noticeably, through all this, he received no training on dealing with the girl. Whenever he asked, he was told simply that he would work it out, but that she must be stopped. The pencils had no defense against her.

He was assigned his own soldiers that he would lead. The commander of that company was Flimgog. Flimgog greeted him like an old friend when he arrived.

"Arnold." he squeaked "It is a joy and an honour to be working with you. My men and I have been preparing for this day all our lives."

Arnie now trained together with Flimgog and his soldiers, working out different methods of defeating greater and greater numbers of pencils in a large number of situations. It was 10 sleeps after his meeting with the leader when he was declared ready by Labarog. After pronouncing him ready Labarog bowed, in the way only pencils can – without bending their backs, and said solemnly,

"It has been an immense honour working with you." before turning and walking away without a backward glance. Arnie watched him go.

"Arnold, sir, what are we to do now?" Flimgog's squeaky voice asked, looking bright eyed and expectant.

"I don't know. But I shall find out." Arnie's voice was strong, his confidence was solid. His training had given him new strength and determination to stop this war for the pencils, he had grown to love them as brothers of his own.

He was about to head in the direction of the leader's building when a messenger arrived.

"Arnold. The leader requests your presence" it called, before turning and running back up the path. Arnie followed without hesitation, calling to his pencil soldiers,

"Stay here 'til I get back."

When he got to the hall of the leader, he knelt before him and looked at him with a fixed, dedicated glare in his eyes.

"We're ready master pencil, we're ready for our tasks."

The leader examined Arnie before speaking. His voice was warm.

"I know, it is true. You are to march on the pen stronghold of Quilsburgh after this night. For now, feast and be merry with your soldiers. Then march and take back that stronghold and return it to its true name, Shadingston!"

That night he learned something about these people. They were all jammed full of fun and merriness. He realised during the feasting with his soldiers, when the whole village came to join them, that war had forced a seriousness on them that was not natural and he took great joy in watching them abandon it all to dancing and music, to games and poetry. Then he figured it out. They were kids. All of them, kids forced to be adults. He felt an incredible warmth course through him as he joined in the fun.

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