For all the children of the world who are different, weird, odd or don’t quite fit in. Just be patient, for you’ll probably be running things eventually anyway.
Copyright © 2017 Christopher D. Morgan
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. No actual person or event is depicted.
No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express permission of the author except for use of brief quotations in book reviews.
This short story has been written using British English spelling and conventions.
A Portallas short story
Christopher D. Morgan
Galleon’s Prime is a Portallas short story that tells some of the backstory about one of the main characters from the Portallas series of books. Here we learn a little about Galleon, an Imp that comes from a trading port called the Southern Tip, which is located in the far south of a world called Forestium. We first learn of Galleon in Forestium: The Mirror Never Lies, which is book one in the Portallas series.
The Southern Seas
“One day, Galleon,” Captain Kram said, his head nodding as he surveyed the crew below him on the lower deck, “if you work hard enough, all of this could be yours.”
“What, even those?” Galleon snorted, nodding at the Imps scurrying around preparing the ship for departure.
Captain Kram just chuckled. “Right, you’d better get down there and get these Imps into gear. We should be out of port for at least five days or more on this one.”
“What are we chasing this time, sir?”
“Fludgen. They’re coming into season now and I want to get a head start on the rest of the fleet. If we work the crew hard, we should make it to their breeding grounds in a couple of days. A good haul on this trip and who knows, maybe I’ll retire early and you can take my place. You’ve climbed the ranks and I think you’re ready for it.”
“Oh, thank you…wait, Fludgen? Won’t that mean…sailing around…Wreckers Rock? If the weather turns, we’ll be just another shipwreck that litters the waters there.”
“You wanted to be a fisherman. What’s life without a bit of danger anyway? Besides, it’s not the rock or the weather I’m concerned with; it’s what’s in those waters you need to be worrying about. Come on, let’s get cracking. The tide isn’t going to wait for us.”
“Aye, Captain. The crew awaits your orders, sir.”
“Look alive there,” Captain Kram bellowed. Several Imps previously idling around leapt to their feet. Clearly unaware their taskmaster had returned, they joined the other Imps preparing the rickety ship for departure. Two sailors pulled on various ropes, which caused the main sail to unfurl and drop into place. Several more Imps pulled on various ropes to secure the giant white canvas into position and a gust of wind inflated it. The ship creaked as it began moving through the water.
The Captain was an imposing man. Like all Imps from the Southern Tip region of Forestium, he wasn’t especially tall, but he was stocky with broad shoulders. He was always neatly dressed in his navy blue tunic embroidered with gold epaulettes and long, black, leather boots. His face was always partly hidden under his white sailor cap but there was never any mistaking him with that ginger moustache that twisted into symmetrical coils against both cheeks. There was a presence about the man that Galleon had always admired. Even the way he walked seemed imposing. He was the sort of Imp one could aspire to be, a natural born leader.
Captain Kram had been in charge of the Southern Seas for the past eight years. It wasn’t the biggest ship in the fleet, and certainly not the prettiest, but the crew worked hard and was well disciplined. It was a rickety wooden vessel, with an upper wheelhouse deck and a lower deck, where a dozen or more recesses along the side allowed Imps to stand with fishing rods. Several hatches along the centre of the lower deck led to holding tanks for the fish they would catch. Once a week, the ship would set out to different fishing grounds and once a week it would come back into the port of the Southern Tip to offload the catch.
A thick wooden mast in the middle of the lower deck shot up into the sky and supported the main sail. Fully deployed, the white canvas was an impressive sight and pushed the ship effortlessly through the waters. A smaller jib stretched from the top of the mast to the ship’s bow. As if by magic, a complicated network of ropes and rigging somehow held it all together. When the crew worked efficiently, they could raise and lower the sails within seconds.
With his distinctive gait, Captain Kram walked off, leaving Galleon, the ship’s second in command, to make all the necessary preparations for their next venture out into the open seas.
“Right, you lazy lot,” Galleon shouted towards the crew. “Secure the rigging! I want to be out of port in ten minutes.”
“Where are we heading, sir?”
“Set sail for Wreckers Rock.”
One by one, all the sailors stopped what they were doing and stared at Galleon. Several Imps murmured nervously to each other. The ship creaked as it bobbed in the water and you could feel the tension in the air. Galleon climbed down the ladder from the wheelhouse to the lower deck.
One of the sailors turned to Galleon and said, “Sorry, sir, but I don’t think I heard you right. Did you say…Wreckers Rock?”
“No, you heard me correct, sailor. Why?”
“Well, it’s just…it’s…”
“Just…what? Come on, man, out with it!”
The Imp looked around nervously with the rest of the crew hanging on his every word. “Well…it’s just that few ships go there,” the sailor continued. “Those waters are…dangerous. I wager there are more ships lying on the seabed there than moored up at the Southern Tip…sir.” The crew continued shifting nervously and shaking their heads.
“That’s right, so you better be on your guard,” Galleon shouted and turning around to the rest of the crew, making sure every last Imp could hear him. “We’ll all need to be on our guard for this one. It’s because so few ships go there, that the waters there are so abundant with fish.”
Nobody said a word. They all just continued glancing at each other.
“WELL?” Galleon yelled. “What are you all waiting for? Honestly!” He rolled his eyes and shook his head dismissively.
Three Imps heaved the anchor up onto the deck and one of them tied it off securely. The ship slowly pulled away from the dock.
As they hugged the coastline, Galleon wandered among the crew. Other than the creaking of the ship, the only sound was the rushing of the wind and the nervous murmuring of the Imps.
After a couple of hours, the ship finally left the coastline of the Southern Tip and set out into open waters. By late afternoon, they had lost sight of land altogether and the crew of the Southern Seas were on their own.
Although an able seaman for the most part, Galleon was a reluctant sailor. He never showed much interest in a life at sea whilst growing up, choosing instead to become a Trader. When Captain Kram was still a First Mate, he would come ashore and barter with Galleon for supplies. Kram had built up a trusting relationship with Galleon and eventually asked him to join him as a crewmate on board. With no family to speak of, Galleon accepted the position and the two of them have served together for the past three years.
The ship had been sailing for about three days when a thick fog enveloped the ship. The sea was calm but as the fog thickened, visibility steadily worsened.
“Reef the main sail!” Galleon shouted.
He didn’t want to run the risk of running into Wreckers Rock like so many other ships had before them. With the main sail reefed, the ship crept through the eerily quiet waters.
“Wreckers Rock!” shouted the lookout in the crow’s nest. Everyone looked in the direction the lookout was pointing. Galleon walked to the rail and peered out. Sure enough, just barely visible through the thickening fog in the distance was Wreckers Rock jutting out of the water. Without warning, the wind stopped blowing and the main sail hung limp from the mast.
“Quickly,” Galleon screamed. “Lower the anchor or we’ll drift onto the rocks and end up at the bottom of the sea!”
Two crewmen quickly untied the tether from the anchor’s rode. It followed the anchor down into the water for several seconds before eventually going limp, indicating it had struck the seabed. Two crewmen tied it off securely. With no wind to propel them, there was an eerie silence as the fog drifted and the vessel bobbed up and down. There was a strange noise coming from somewhere in the distance. It sounded like screaming.
“It’s a bad omen,” one of the crewmen muttered. Murmurs of discontent echoed around the ship and several people shifted nervously on their feet.
“Don’t mind that,” Captain Kram shouted, as he emerged back onto the deck. “That’s just the sound of the wind blowing around the rock.”
“What are our orders, Captain?” Galleon asked.
“We’re here to fish, right? So let’s fish!”
“Ay, sir,” Galleon said, turning to the crew. “Right, you lot. You heard the Captain. Let’s get those lines into the water.” They all just stood there, looking at each other. “TODAY!” Galleon yelled.
Galleon knew he had a good command of his voice, and he knew when to use it. With that, every sailor grabbed a fishing rod and set about baiting the hooks. One by one, they each launched their lines over the sides of the ship.
After a few minutes, the first sailor reeled in the first catch of the day. It was a decent size Fludgen. Easily the length of an Imp’s arm, the bulbous fish was a silvery blue colour with a narrow, yellow stripe down each side. It flapped violently on deck until a crewman kicked it towards one of the open hatches and it fell into the hold of the ship.
“If we can fill the holds with Fludgen of that size, maybe you’ll be Captain sooner than you think,” Captain Kram said to Galleon.
Several more Fludgen had been landed when Galleon noticed one of the newer crewmembers struggling with what seemed like a particularly large fish.
“Here,” he shouted, “let me show you how it’s done.” Galleon took the rod from the inexperienced fisherman and wrestled with the line as it pulled and jerked the rod in his hands. Everyone ducked out of the way as Galleon was dragged left and right, trying to keep hold of whatever it was that had taken the bait.
“Quickly!” Galleon pleaded. “Grab hold of me!”
Two crewmen did their best to hold on to Galleon, who was holding on to the rod for dear life. Whatever it was on the other end must have been massive. It pulled so hard that the rod was bending to near breaking point, and Galleon struggled to maintain his footing on the wet deck. Suddenly, an almighty tug on the line dragged Galleon over the rail. The two crewmen lost their grip and Galleon tumbled down the side of the ship. SPLASH! With his short arms and legs, he panicked and struggled to tread water as the rod slipped from his hand.
“Man overboard,” came a scream from somewhere above. Galleon spluttered and tried desperately to keep his head above water. The current moved him farther and farther from the ship. After just a minute or two, he could no longer see the ship at all and the crewmen shouting his name faded into the distance.
The salty water was bitter cold and Galleon felt his limbs slowly going numb. Taking deep breathes, he tried calming himself but the icy-cold, salty water kept going into his mouth and nose, and he found himself continually gasping for air.
An ear-piercing shriek sounded around him. It was the same sound he had heard in the distance that Captain Kram had said was the wind howling around Wreckers Rock. Galleon thought it might mean he had drifted close to the rock but all he could see was the thick fog in every direction.
The shriek sounded again. This time, it was more distinct. Galleon knew it was definitely not the wind. It was more like the squealing of an injured animal. The reverberations echoed around him making it difficult to pinpoint the direction the sound was coming from. It was terrifying. Galleon looked around frantically. At first whatever it was sounded like it was straight ahead but then it seemed to come from behind. As it sounded yet again, this time much louder, something swam past him at great speed. Galleon felt a slimy sensation as the creature thrashed past him. The wake thrown up by the creature rushed over his head and the icy salt-water caused him to cough and splutter. The terrified Imp was paralysed with fear. Still desperate to keep his head above water, he looked around frantically trying to see where the monster had gone. The shrieking sound echoed around him. One moment it was behind him, the next in front. It moved so fast and the fog was so thick, he kept losing track of where it was.
Suddenly, Galleon could see a pair of eyes staring at him. They were huge and perched atop a long, silvery snout with serrated teeth extending down from the upper part of its jaw. The bulbous eyes appeared stationary in the water. Whatever it was opened its jaw to reveal another set of razor-sharp teeth. It shrieked loudly. Galleon’s face contorted. He wanted to scream but fear gripped him. He splashed his arms up and down on the water repeatedly and kicked with both legs. The creature charged towards him. As it neared, it sped up and the shrieking grew louder. Its jaws opened wider. The hideous monster swam closer and closer. It was almost upon Galleon when a shape twice as big as Galleon came swooping down out of the sky.
SPLASH! It collided with the beast. A huge wave engulfed Galleon completely and he took in a mouthful of bitter cold water. As he went under, everything went dark and only thing he could hear was the gurgling sound of bubbles surrounding him. It was disorienting and he struggled desperately to find the surface of the water. Galleon tried opening his eyes and could just make out the outline of the monster swimming away at high speed. Still submerged, Galleon could hold his breath no longer. He felt his eyes close. With the urge to inhale now overwhelming, he gave one last try at reaching the water’s surface.
Without warning, he felt himself lurch violently through the water. All the bubbles around him suddenly rushed downward at high speed. He breached the water’s surface, and kept rising, above the water, now gasping for air.
Completely disoriented, Galleon felt himself flying through the air at high speed. He tried to wipe the salty water from his burning eyes. Wind blew hard at his face, the rush of air deafening. The world started to spin. He felt his eyes closing. Everything went dark.
As Galleon roused, his senses began to return. He felt the rhythm of his heart beating in his chest. The sensation of his breathing confirmed he was alive. A jumble of images flashed through his mind. At first, there was confusion, but as the swirling sensation receded, he came to his senses and slowly opened his eyes. As he became more aware of his situation, he wiggled his fingers. He found he could move them and there was no pain. He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. Opening his eyes further, Galleon found himself lying on the floor, looking up at a dark ceiling. His vision was still blurry but he was on solid ground. Turning his head to one side, he noticed a fire. The crackling flames lit up the area immediately around him, but it was still hard to make out where he was. The fire felt warm and soothing.
Slowly raising his hands to he chest, he felt his clothes. They were dry. Wherever he was, he must have been here for some time.
Galleon pushed himself into a seated position and took another deep breath. Squinting, he peered around. He was in a cave and the fire cast shadow on the walls in all directions. Slowly, everything came into sharp focus. After a few moments, Galleon stood up.
“Hello there, friend.”
Startled, Galleon stumbled and tripped. He fell right towards the fire, reaching out to break the fall. His hands landed right in the fire and he cried out in agony as the flames burnt his palms and wrists.
A figure on the far side of the fire stood up. It was…a woman. She walked around the fire to where Galleon was on his knees shaking with his burned hands in front of him. She put one hand on his shoulder and held the other directly over his hands.
“Hold still,” she said softly.
She moved her hand slowly back and forth above Galleon’s as a green glow surrounded his wounds. The pain subsided as the blisters faded. Within seconds, the pain was gone altogether and there was no sign of the burn at all. She stopped moving her hand and the green glow around it faded. Galleon turned his now healed hands over and raised his brow.
“Is that better?” the woman smiled.
Through the flickering light of the fire, Galleon could see her green eyes and long, silvery hair. He turned his hands over a couple of times, looking at them intently.
“M…much better. Thank you.”
The woman returned to her seat by the fire.
“Um…I don’t mean to sound ungrateful or anything…but…who are you? H…how did you…you know…how did you just do that?”
“I am Malena,” the woman said.
“Well, I’m…pleased to meet you, Malena, but…how did you do that,” Galleon repeated.
“I’m a Metamorph. We have…healing powers.”
“A metamorph…” Galleon squinted as he struggled to find the words. “But…Metamorphs don’t…I mean…I thought they only existed in legend.”
“There aren’t many of my kind left in this world. Once there were many.” Malena lowered her head and stared pensively into the fire.
“An evil creature known only as The Goat has wiped out most of my kind. Those of us that survived have gone into hiding. I have lived here in this cave for many years now.”
Galleon looked around, trying to take it all in. “And…where is this cave, exactly?”
“You call it…Wreckers Rock.”
“You mean I’m inside Wreckers Rock?”
Malena nodded slowly.
“How did I get here?”
“I brought you here. I saved you from the sea monster that was attacking you.”
Galleon starred into nothingness and narrowed his eyes. He looked up at Malena and said slowly, “Something entered the water and lifted me out. Are you saying that was you?”
Malena smiled and nodded.
“Metamorphs can become other things…other creatures.”
“So, you turned into some sort of a bird and you, what, lifted me out of the water and brought me here?”
Galleon shook his head and said, “Well, thank you. I guess I was lucky you were there at all.”
“Indeed. You were lucky there was so much fog or I wouldn’t have left this cave. It isn’t safe for us to show ourselves. He has eyes everywhere.”
“You said…he wiped out most of your kind?”
“So, there were once many more of you? What happened?”
“The Goat is a supremely powerful and magical being. Evil, malevolent, ruthless. He is fiercely jealous of the magical powers hidden throughout this world.”
“I’ve never heard of The Goat.”
Malena smiled and said, “Then you should count yourself lucky. Our leaders tried to reason with Him at first. They tried to show Him we were not a threat but He tricked us. Before we knew it, many of my kind were slaughtered. Those of us that are left now lead solitary lives.”
“And you’ve been in hiding ever since?”
Malena looked up and locked her eyes onto Galleon. “And this is the way it must stay. You must not let anyone know of what has happened here or of my existence. If He comes to find out…”
Galleon sighed and nodded. “Well, you did save my life.”
“And now that you have been returned to health, it is time for you to go.”
Galleon looked around the cave. Other than the flickering of light against the cave walls, he could see no obvious way out. “How…I mean…”
Malena stood up and walked over to where Galleon was standing. “You may not remember everything when you awake. I am sorry, but this is necessary.” With that, the Metamorph waved her hand across Galleon’s face and he slumped to the ground.
An Imp alone
Galleon slowly came to, his hearing the first of his senses to come back to life. A contented smile crept across his face as he heard the comforting song of a Raetheon soaring high above. The majestic birds are a common sight throughout all of Forestium. As he returned to consciousness, he felt the warmth of the sun on his face. It was comforting, like the memory of a warm embrace.
The world slowly came into focus as he opened his eyes. Squinting against the onslaught of the piercing sun, he pushed himself into a seated position and looked around. Galleon stood up and turned around. Wreckers Rock was never a place he ever wished to find himself but for now at least, it was what was providing him refuge from the open sea. The fog had lifted but there was no sign of his ship. How did I get here? Where’s my ship?
The cone-shaped edifice of Wreckers Rock didn’t jut out of the sea by much, but it was high enough to afford him a good vantage if he climbed to its peak. After a couple of minutes of climbing, he reached the barren rock’s pinnacle and stood there, panting. Shielding his eyes from the midday glare, he slowly peered around. A small flock of Raetheons caught his eye in the otherwise cloudless sky. There, around the other side of the rock, was the Southern Seas, bobbing gently in the water. The sail was lowered and the ship was still anchored.
“HERE! I’M OVER HERE!” Galleon yelled as loud as he could, frantically waving his arms over his head. Only the whistling of the wind and the creaking of the ship echoed back. He held his hand up to shade his eyes. The ship looked deserted.
Galleon pondered his options. None of them looked good. Remaining on the exposed rock under the intense heat of the sun with no fresh water would mean a certain and painfully slow death. The only alternative was to brave the monster-infested waters and hope he made it to the ship before being eaten alive.
“I’ll have to swim for it,” he muttered to himself.
Galleon cut his hands and legs on the jagged rocks as he scaled down towards the water’s edge. Once he reached the crashing waves, he stood there and composed himself with several deep breaths. The monster could still be out there and his anxiety soared at the thought of not making it all the way to the ship.
With one last deep inhale; he leapt into the water. He tried immediately to stand up but he was unprepared for the depth of the water so close to the rock’s edge. Thrashing his arms up and down, he reached for the rock behind him again before gaining a footing. Panting, he took a moment to compose himself again, before setting off with an awkward doggy-paddle technique.
With his most determined, if somewhat inefficient attempt at swimming, he slowly made his way out towards the ship – all the while keeping a sharp eye out for anything untoward.
Exhausted and panting heavily, Galleon made it to the ship and reached for a rope. Clinging to it, he rested a while to catch his breath.
Several minutes later he tried to pull himself up the rope. After an arduous climb, he swung one leg onto the rail and heaved himself over. The Imp slumped onto the deck with a heavy thud. He lay there, breathing heavily but relieved that he was at least still alive.
With the sun still beating down on him, Galleon stood up and looked around. The ship was completely devoid of life. Not a soul was to be found anywhere. He wandered around checking every deck, every cabin: every nook and cranny. He even checked in the hold where dozens of Fludgen now laid dead in a heap, beginning to rot. There were no bodies and no signs of struggle or conflict. In fact, there was nothing he could find to explain the empty ship. They were all just…gone. His entire crew – vanished!
After a while, Galleon made his way to the bow, where the anchor still tethered the ship to the treacherous waters. He looked at the taught rope and shook his head. He knew it would take several of his strongest crew to lift the anchor and there was no way he would manage this on his own. With no other options, he found a knife and laboriously cut through the rope, which eventually gave way and the ship began to drift.
Although he wasn’t able to hoist the main sail, Galleon was able to use the jib to manoeuvre the ship. Each time the wind shifted, he loosened one set of ropes and tightened others to get the jib into the right position. He also had to contend with racing to the wheel deck to re-position the rudder for each manoeuvre. Sweat poured down his face as he heaved on the rigging, and he slumped to the floor panting heavily after each repositioning. A dozen or more Imps would normally operate the ship, but Galleon had to do it all by himself. It was hard going and he lost all track of time, but he eventually managed to steer the Southern Seas back towards the shores of the Southern Tip.
But where were all the other ships? There were none. The Southern Tip was Forestium’s main seaport and it was coming into the height of the fishing season. These shores would ordinarily be filled with fishing and trading vessels.
Galleon manoeuvred the ship, still powered by nothing more than the jib, into the main port. He could see other vessels but just as with his own ship, nobody appeared to be aboard any of them. Several ships were drifting in the wind and a few had run aground. They were leaning as the tide receded. One lay completely on its side. A lone Raetheon circled high above. Sails hung lifeless from their masts. The normally turbulent waters filled with the sounds of ships coming and going were still and silent. There was a ghostly calm about the place.
Galleon moored the ship and tied it off as best he could before making his way onto solid ground. He wandered around but still couldn’t find a single soul. This place would usually be filled with the sounds of laughter and people coming and going. Today it was silent. He checked in several buildings, various inns, the harbour master’s office and numerous other places. It was the same everywhere he looked. Nobody was here.
As Galleon searched the deserted alleys, he spun around when he heard a noise. It sounded like…whimpering. He stopped and listened, trying to figure out where it came from. It was a woman’s voice. He entered one of the taverns and found an elderly woman. She was curled up in a ball on the ground, crying.
Galleon rushed over and knelt beside her. He lifted her head gently off the floor and onto his lap. She was trembling.
“It’s OK. I’m going to help you. What happened?” he asked.
“Gone,” the woman muttered, “there’re all…gone. Balls of light took them all.” She began sobbing inconsolably. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
“Who was? Who was merciless?”
“Even the children. Such sweet, innocent children. Why? Why did he have to take the children? He shouldn’t have taken the children!”
“Who? Who took them all? Tell me, please!”
The woman began coughing and spluttering. She held her hand to her chest. Galleon noticed a burn mark on her clothes. Something had scorched the woman so badly; it had burned right through her clothing and had left huge blisters on her skin.
“Balls of…light. Couldn’t escape…couldn’t run fast enough…” The woman coughed some more. Blood oozed from her mouth and ran down her chin. She looked up at Galleon with beseeching eyes.
“Get out of here. Go…while you still…” She was barely able to speak. “It was…the…Goat…” Her head fell limply to one side. Her eyes glazed over. She was dead.
Galleon’s New Life
Galleon lowered the dead woman’s eyelids and rested her head gently onto the floor. He continued to look for survivors until the sun started to set, all the while trying to piece it all together. The more he thought about it, the less it all made sense. Now that the old woman had died, Galleon was left with a disturbing thought – he might be the last Imp in all of Forestium.
Exhausted and hungry, Galleon found a chair outside a tavern and slumped into it. His mind raced with questions. As he played out the events of the past few days in his mind, he realised there was a gap in his memory from a couple of days ago. Something happened between him falling into the water and waking up some time after. What happened during that time? Was this the reason I wasn’t taken like all the other Imps?
Galleon sunk his head into his hands. He was alone; perhaps the only one of his kind left. Fatigued but not beaten, he sat up and looked around at the empty buildings and alleyways. There was nothing left for him here.
A blood moon was beginning to raise into the sky. There was just enough daylight to see a flock of Raetheons circling overhead. The majestic white birds sang their familiar song. Galleon gazed at them as they finally broke formation and flew off inland towards the North.
Galleon squinted and tapped his chin with his forefinger. Forestium is a big place. Maybe there are other Imps still alive…somewhere.
“Right,” he said with fervour. “There’s only one way to find out.” With a renewed sense of purpose, he walked off in a northerly direction under the shimmering light of the blood moon.
The end…or just the beginning.
If you want to find out what happens next with Galleon, check out Forestium: The Mirror Never Lies, which is book one in the Portallas series of novels:
Christopher D. Morgan is a New York Times & USA Today bestselling author, blogger, IT Manager, graphics artist, businessman, volunteer and family man living in Melbourne, Australia. He spends much of his spare time volunteering for his local community. He creates visual learning resources for primary school children, which he markets through his company . He is also involved in local civics and sits on various community & council committees.
Christopher was born in the UK and grew up in England’s South East. At age twenty, he moved to The Netherlands, where in 1988 he married Sandy. Christopher quickly learned Dutch and the couple spent eight years living in the far South of that country before they moved to Florida in 1996. After spending six years in Florida, Christopher and Sandy sold their home and spent the next two years backpacking around the world. Christopher has visited about 40 countries to date and 13 US states.
Whilst circumnavigating the globe, Christopher wrote extensively, churning out travel journals. He and Sandy settled back in the UK at the end of their world tour, where their two children were both born. In 2009, the family uproot again and moved to Melbourne, Australia, where they now live.
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There are three magical orbs hidden within each of the worlds of Portallas. See all the orbs and learn more about them here:
Explore the world of Forestium through this interactive map. Find all the magical artefacts, see where all the locations are and where each chapter of the book plays out:
Forestium events timeline
Forestium has a rich and diverse history. Learn all about how this magical world came to be the way it is. Discover when all the characters were born and more about their lives here:
Have fun with all the characters of Forestium in this quirky series of character interviews:
Check out the quizzes page at portallas.com for a range of fun quizzes:
Want to find out what’s in the next book? Here, have a quick sneak peek here:
Galleon’s Prime is a Portallas short story that tells some of the backstory about one of the main characters from the Portallas series of books. Here we learn a little about Galleon, an Imp that comes from a trading port called the Southern Tip, which is located in the far south of a world called Forestium. We first learn of Galleon in Forestium: The Mirror Never Lies, which is book one in the Portallas series. In Forestium, Galleon is befriended by Joshua, a young woodsman on a journey of discovery. Galleon is himself roaming the land in search of other Imps, as he believes he may be the last of his kind. Galleon’s Prime explains how Galleon came to be in this situation.