Hey guys!
Another musketeer story cause i can't get enough of them!
Hope you enjoy :)
The day had started out normal enough, which in hindsight should have been the first warning.
Athos, Porthos, Aramis and of course d'Artagnan were on their way to a small village to 'convince' a man to stop selling the strange potions he made as there had been many complaints that the potions had strange effects and did not cure ailments at all.
On the way, three of them chattered happily while Athos kept to himself, as normal. It was a beautiful day and it raised everyone's spirits to be bathed in the soft, warm sunlight.
Soon enough they reached the village and from there spotted the shop. It was an odd place that stuck out like a sore thumb in the orderly village. There were wind chimes hanging from the ceiling and the smell of herbs and something else floated around.
They walked into the shop and felt the temperature drop dramatically, so much so that d'Artagnan even gave an involuntary shiver.
"I don't like this one bit." Porthos said as he drew his blade. The sword was a comforting weight in his hand and the others soon followed his lead.
They all edged forward with an icy feeling growing in their stomachs.
Suddenly, a little man appeared from behind the old wooden counter. In the center of the counter's front was an ornately carved dragon.
The man was about as strange as they come. He was short and round and waddled more than he walked. His right ear was pierced and had a feather hanging from it. He was nearly bald with just a handful of thin hair combed over his scalp as it that made him handsome or something. He wore a golden waistcoat and matching trousers that disappeared into brown, leather boots they saw as he came round from the desk. A gold chain was fastened just of centre of the waistcoat and disappeared into a pocket over his breast, supposedly a pocket watch.
"Hello, and welcome! What can I do for you gentleman?" The man cried joyously.
"We are the kings musketeers and we have come to inform you that you have been ordered to close down this shop and stop selling your potions immediately." Athos said in his usual uncaring voice.
"Ah that is a shame. I suppose I will pack up, but only on one condition. If you do not agree, a lot of people will die." At this his smile turned feral and he licked his lips in anticipation.
"How?" Aramis asked. They had all straightened up and were glancing at each other, unsure what to do.
"I can't tell you that, otherwise it won't work! You'll kill me and rush of to stop it happening! No, your friend here must drink one of my potions, only then will I pack up and everybody will live." He pointed to d'Artagnan.
"No, absolutely not." Athos said, moving quickly in front of d'Artagnan as if to protect him.
"Athos, it's ok. I'll do it." d'Artagnan looked the store holder in the eye as he said this.
"What? Are you mad?" Athos hissed at him.
"No. You remember what the people said, the effects are temporary and they wear off. And he won't kill me because he said that if I drink it, everyone lives." d'Artagnan pointed out. "The effects may be unpleasant but I can live with that for a while if it means that everyone lives."
Athos didn't look happy but eventually he agreed.
d'Artagnan walked forwards and the man laughed delightedly. "Yes yes yes, I have just the potion!"
He dove behind the counter and came back up holding a vile filled with a bubbling green liquid. He shoved it into d'Artagnan's hands and began hopping from foot to foot in excitement.
Tilting his head back, d'Artagnan drank it in one. He then looked suspiciously at the man when nothing happened.
"What ar…" He grabbed his throat mid-sentence and made a choking noise.
"d'Artagnan!" The other three musketeers ran forward to their fallen friend.
d'Artagnan lay on the ground shivering and moaning. There was a crack followed by another and another, until the sound to cracking filled the air. Meanwhile d'Artagnan had begun screaming in agony and they realized it was his bones.
Then, before their eyes, d'Artagnan began to get smaller and smaller. They looked up to ask the man what was happening to their friend and realized he was gone.
"The bastard!" Porthos cried in anger.
They turned back to d'Artagnan and noticed the screams had stopped. All three musketeers gasped in shock as they looked down and saw not the d'Artagnan they knew, but a small, young boy fast asleep where their friend had been.
It was obviously d'Artagnan as the similarities were uncanny but this boy couldn't be any more than four.
Reaching out Athos gently shook the boys shoulder.
The little boy let out a sleepy moan and deep brown orbs fluttered partially open.
"Athos?" A high little voice murmured.
The three musketeers looked at each other.
Oh mon dieu*.
*French for 'oh my god'.
Hope you liked it!
Next chapter: How will the musketeers react? And how will they care for a small child?
Please review and let me know what you think!