Returning Home
A fairy tale
By:
Mordecai Thrice
Introduction
Once upon a time there was a town called Highland. It was a lovely place, in a wooded valley with a stream running next to it and a well in the center of town square. Everybody there always had a good time. Nothing bad ever happened, and nobody ever wanted or attempted to leave. One perfect, sunny day(as they all were in Highland), a young boy called Hero wanted to go live in his birth city, Goodhome. Everybody thought it was a bad idea. Mayor Deelar, who came to check on his people once in a while, begged Hero not to go, but despite all these pleas, he wanted to be home again. He hadn't lived in Highland very long and was homesick.
"In order to reach your home," Mayor Deelar said, "You must travel the Reh-ab Road. It's very hard and dangerous, and you might just end up coming back here and giving up."
"I know," Hero said. "I want to try anyway. Deep down inside, he knew he had to leave this place or die trying.
So the young boy departed from the perfect town of Highland. Hero didn't think it was so perfect. He never was happy there; only pleasured. It was only a substitute for true happiness, which Hero could find in Goodhome. He hoped…
The rain beat in a rhythmic pattern onto Hero's soaked hood before dripping onto his cloak and sliding down onto the grassy earth. He had finally gotten out of Highland valley. It had been a difficult climb, but sometimes the first steps are the hardest. The second he had stepped out of the town, it started pouring rain on him. He turned and noticed Highland was in the eye of the storm, and it wasn't raining there. 'Don't they know how close they are to the raging storm around them?'
The only thing Hero decided he needed to make this trip was the Evol blade. It was a legendary, powerful great sword. It was like none other in the land. The color of the ancient, indestructible weapon was a deep red. Rubies, it was often compared to. The size of the sword was also legendary. It was around 2 meters tall and about a foot in width. Yet, it was as weightless as a feather. It was no burden at all. If anything, Hero would soon find out, it was a blessing.
Hero turned back to face the beginning of the Reh-ab Road. It was a strip of gold that extended as far as the eye could see. Yet, it was only about two and a half meters wide. There were no bricks. It was as if a giant had stretched a sheet across the land. It suddenly just began; it just started out of the middle of the plain. Hero came up to the edge and looked across the road he was about to embark upon. Reh-ab. It meant "perilous but good" in the old tongue.
He took a step onto the golden path…and that's how it began…
The journey was difficult and tested his will in every aspect. Because of the rain, Hero kept slipping on the smooth, glass-like gold. He noticed that if he didn't get up immediately, he started sliding backwards
After a day of traveling thus, the rain was as unrelenting as ever. It was dark, so Hero found a small spot under a rock ledge just off the path and lit a fire. There was a bright full moon and the rain clouds had cleared slightly, allowing him to see for miles on the treeless, grassy plain. He glanced out and saw no living thing anywhere. The world seemed completely devoid of it, save for Hero. For the first time in his life, he felt completely and utterly alone. His thoughts then turned to his family while he slowly slipped into sleep. He wondered if they would even recognize him. His last thought before unconsciousness came to him was 'will they still love me?'
Hero awoke to the sound of metal clinking on metal. He couldn't see much until his eyes adjusted. When he could see again, he noticed that the rain had picked up considerably and it was raining and lightning and thundering all around. Then, he wished he couldn't. He saw a barbarian-like, armored creature coming at him. The sound he had heard was that of the warrior unsheathing his ax. Hero scrambled around for the Evol blade. He found it underneath his now dried cloak. He gripped the crimson handle just as the booted foot of the warrior stepped down upon the hilt, restraining him from raising what was his only defense. What happened next, Hero would later recall, seemed to happen in slow motion. He lifted his eyes up into the face of his assassin, who gave a fierce grin and raised back his weapon to strike. Under other circumstances, Hero might have noticed that bits of the rock ledge ceiling above him were falling down onto his head and all around him. But, there weren't other circumstances and he didn't even guess that there was a heavy, intelligent, living weight just above him and his assailant.
Just as the ax had began on its deadly, aimed descent, that weight above them left the rock edge and violently met the barbarian. It was massive, Hero guessed. And yet, it moved so quickly that Hero couldn't make out what it was. The force of the tackle sent both the barbarian and the beast (for that was what Hero ascertained that it must be) flying off into the dark expanse. The clouds had become so thick, it blocked out that beautiful full moon and its revealing rays. Hero ran to the edge of the dryness. Lightning flashes revealed still shots of the battle to him as he peered out into the black chaos. He could hear what was going on. Bare, furred fists, or clawed hands, beating upon metal and flesh. Finally, he heard the sound of the thirsty ax blade bit deep into the earth and stay still. Metal crashed against a rock wall and slid to a stop. Then a groan was made by a human throat and all was silent, excluding the sounds of rain and storm.
Hero then became aware that he was being watched and he moved to the back of the shelter of the rock ledge. Lightning struck and the silhouette of that great beast stood not more than 2 meters from him. Hero pressed as far back as he could against the rock wall. He closed his eyes and prayed that it would leave. He heard a step into the rock shelter and dripping water. He prayed even more earnestly and clamped his eyes as tight as he could. He could hear the claws of the foot of the creature scrape on the rock of the ground and smelled wet fur. Why wouldn't it leave him alone? Then he heard another step, but this was different. It was the sound of wet leather on stone. Lightning flashed again and revealed a man in place of the creature. The man sank to his knees and then laid face first on the hard floor of the shelter.
Hero didn't quite know what to do. After a while, he spoke softly to the stranger, who did not reply. He must be unconscious, decided Hero. So he built a fire and stretched the man out on his cloak. He sat against the rock wall and wondered what the man's story was, as he slipped into dreams of his home.
The smell of cooking meat and egg danced in Hero's nose and finally roused him from his sleep. He sat up and looked around. That man was cooking breakfast. The first impression he got of the man (for this is the first real time he had really seen him) was one of failure. He wore clothes that had once been respectable but now were quite tattered and travel worn, and he had a scraggly, unkempt beard with unwashed, shoulder length hair to match it, both of the color of dry ground. A light brown. But, as time went on, you'll see, Hero came to think of him as majestic and respected him as a son would a father.
"Hello," He said to Hero, who realized he had been staring. "Would you like some food? I went hunting while you were resting."
"Yes, please. What's your name? Mine is Hero."
"Pleased to meet you, Hero. My name is Bard Fathe, and I thank you for your hospitality last night. Tell me, for I am curious to know, what would a young lad such as yourself be doing out in the wilderness, alone, being hunted by Deelar's minions?"
"What?" Hero's mind began to race. "Mayor Deelar sent him? Why?"
"Ahh, so you're from Highland. Only your people would call him 'Mayor'. Most people of the land just call him devil. Yes, I, myself, have been to Highland once." He began to stare off into the distance. Instinctively, his right hand went to his left bicep and clamped there. Finally, he looked around and remembered where he was. "Yes, he was sent by Deelar. Why? Probably because you left his 'perfect' town of Highland. It makes him look bad in his brother's eyes if word gets around that somebody left Highland."
"His brother? Ok, slow down a bit. How do you know it was him in the first place?"
Bard held up a scroll of paper. "This was on the warrior's body. It's a writ of execution, written and signed by Deelar himself, the demon. You know, many people stay in Highland because they're afraid of him and his magistrates. Anyway, where are you headed, boy?"
"To my family. In Goodhome." At that remark, Bard's eyes got very sad and he looked down at the meal he was cooking.
After a moment he looked up at Hero and sad with tears in his eyes, "I'm sorry son, Goodhome has been destroyed. The Green Wizard and his armies. Burnt it up."
This sunk deep into Hero's heart and he felt a hot lump forming in his throat. Tears began sliding down his face as he asked, "What of the people?"
"…There's been talk of refugee camps being formed at the base of Goodhome Mountain."
"But…but why?"
Bard Fathe looked away and sniffed before saying, "It's my fault. It's my fault. The…the Green Wizard and Deelar are brothers. They made a secret pact to create the perfect town. Nobody really knows why. Some speculate that they grew up in a bad home and so they don't want that to happen to anybody else, but they've become crazed in their task. They're overzealous and delusional and most of all dangerous. Anyway, Deelar agreed to run the town if the Wizard would send people to him and an army for protection and to do the dirty work, or the Dark Army as it is commonly known. The army is made up of werewolves, vampires, barbarians and any other creatures the Wizard can force his influence upon. Deelar went across the land, gathering people with false promises and such. And then, he went to Goodhome. H went to the king of Goodhome. He demanded an outrageous amount of the population to be added to the people of Highland. The king refused, knowing what Highland really was, a flawed, deceitful town. So, Deelar challenged the king to a duel between his army's general and the king himself, and to the victor would go the fate of Goodhome. Thinking it was in the best interest of his country, the king agreed. The place for the duel was to be Highland. The general of the Dark Army, as it turned out to be, was the Wolf Father, general Myst Aeke, the first werewolf. During the duration of the battle, the king was bitten by general Myst, and was transfigured into a werewolf. As the guards were dragging the beaten, wolfen king out of Highland to be cast out, the Green Wizard whispered in his ear 'How could the people of Goodhome follow you now that you've been transformed into that which they fear most?' The Wizard made his point. The king could not rule as a werewolf."
"Wait," Hero interjected, with a growing fear in his heart. "You're the…um, king from the story aren't you? You were the beast from last night that fought the barbarian."
"yes."
"Well, when you turn into a um…werewolf, don't you loose control?"
"In normal cases yes, but I was bitten by the source of all werewolf venom, the Wolf Father. Anyone bitten by Myst gains control over them self while in the wolfen form. And, I can choose when to be a wolf. Don't worry." He managed a weak smile. "But, the point of that story was to show that I failed the people of Goodhome. I returned from three nights later to find the city in ruins. What I gathered from those contacts still loyal to me was that the people would not go to Highland. They fought against the Dark Army, but were cut down. The survivors are somewhere, in groups, but unorganized. So, I'm heading for Emerald Doors of the Sapphire Court in the Green Wizard's castle. Myth has it that that is where he keeps his crystal ball, behind the curtain behind the judgment seat. They say his crystal ball has the power to grant any wish made by a pure heart. That's why he keeps it close to him. If he can't have that power, he doesn't want anyone to. Maybe if I can get there, I can rid myself of this curse and show my face to my people again. I believe that the Wizard told the people that I was killed. He planned for me to be bitten by the general and disappear, haunted by my own conscience, never to show myself again to the people I had failed. But, I plan to redeem myself from my mistake. If I can once again gain favor in the sight of my people, maybe I can rebuild Goodhome." He let his words hang in the air. He stood from where he had been stooping over the small cooking fire and started walking towards a nearby stream.
"Wait!" Hero cried. He ran up to Bard from where he had still been lying down. Bard turned around to face the young boy. When they were face to face, Hero knelt before him. "My king, I wish to help you in your quest. I now believe it the only way to ever see my family again." Hero kept his head down and waited to have Bard accept or decline his offered service. He waited a long while before the fallen king gently laid his hand upon his head and whispered, "If Goodhome's sons were all as this boy, then it would truly be the perfect town." Whether it was directed to Hero or the king was speaking to himself, he never knew.
And that was that.
Soon after, they were traveling together upon the Reh-ab Road. It turns out that Deelar had lied to Hero. The road led directly to the Sapphire Court. 'If the barbarian didn't kill me, the Wizard certainly would have,' thought Hero. 'But now, isn't it ironic that we're going after the Wizard?'
As they walked, they talked of their memories of childhood and Goodhome and times of peace. It turns out that Bard Fathe had had a son that would've been Hero's age, but had died. Hero told as many stories as he could remember of his family. The two companions laughed and joked and didn't care who or what heard them. Through those few days of carefree jolly times, they learned a lot about each other and found that they were almost like kin. Hero remembers those times as the happiest of the trip. Maybe some of it is because they were nearing the worst part of the trip: the end. That meant that the Sapphire Court would be stormed soon and that it would be very hard and painful.
It was on this last happy day of travel that they came across the fighting. They rounded a bend in the path. This part of the land was heavily wooded with dead trees. Some of them burnt. Hero wondered how much the land had suffered in order for the Wizard to be in power. Bard heard the sounds of battle before Hero did. They rushed forward to find the source of the noise, and found part of the Dark Army fighting what seemed like two of their own. Then, one of those being assaulted lifted his head and cried, "Long live Goodhome!" before cracking the skull of a werewolf with his bare hands.
Bard and Hero looked at each other before racing to aid the victims. Bard gave a roar up towards the twilight heavens. His roar turned into a howl as he turned into that great wolf and began sprinting on all fours into the fray. Hero ran with his hand upon the Evol blade's handle. He was almost upon a vampire before they saw Bard and Hero. The vampire turned towards Hero and hissed at him before charging away from his group to attack. Hero threw off his traveling cloak, covering the Dark Soldiers face and also revealing the crimson sword. He hacked downward right through his cloak and the vampire. The two halves of the vampire ignited and burned away. By that time, Bard was already among the group, wolfen arms tearing through the opposition. He was much, much bigger and stronger than all the other werewolves. The crimson blade flew through the evil that destroyed innocence and purity. It is said that never has the sword been used more fiercely or swiftly than on that day.
With the four of them (Hero, Bard and the two strangers) standing upon the fallen carcasses of their foes, bloodied slightly, they were finally allowed to be introduced to one another. "The name's Owen Lee Mourtil." He grabbed the edge of his jet black cloak and bowed deeply to Bard. He had scarcely any armor. The little bit of it that he did have was made of cloth and didn't seem to serve any purpose other than fashion. He had a scarlet sash around his waist that extended down to his mid shin when he wasn't moving. He had two very thin swords strapped to his back, and a brace of knives strapped to his outer thigh. His black hood was up, covering his face. "And this is Yuras Epul Ker." This one was decked out in a full suit of knight's armor. A great sword, near to the size of the Evol blade itself, was still gripped in his right hand. The other arm was clad with a medium sized shield with the emblem of a phoenix gilded right onto the metal. He didn't offer any formalities but a nod. Hero thought it strange that he didn't say a thing.
"Oh, Eska, what have you done?" Said Bard. The hooded man, who had not left his bowed position stiffened a little at that, but remained in that stance. Bard then turned to Hero and said, "This young man's name is Eska P. Frumliffe. He was a squire to my general, but spent much time with me and my family. His father died, and I took him in before he was a page as a son. He and my own son were good friends."
"You were my idol, King Bard," He now lifted his head and stood normally again. "I wanted to be just like you in every aspect. I snuck after you when you left for the duel and I saw what you had become. I determined that I would do the same. I thought that you would want somebody to sympathize with and I wanted to repay you for the kindness you had done for me over the years. I snuck into the local demonologist's laboratory and tried to steal a sample of werewolf venom…" He lifted his head high and took off the hood. "…but I grabbed the wrong kind." He had two inch long fangs instead of normal canines. His face was very pale and his eyes glowed unearthly yellow with a ring of red around the outside. The boy was a vampire. His hair was the same dirty golden color of his eyes.
"Eska, that was not the way to-"
"Hey! I'm Owen Lee Mourtil. And I made a mistake, ok? All I can think of to do with these underworld-like abilities is fight against the one who did this to you. So that's what I'm doing. I've got the strength of ten men! And now that I've found you, I can help you! I think the vampire venom I injected myself with was from the Bat Father himself. I saw him in all of his magnificence the day you were bitten. He was standing at the left hand of the Wizard himself! I now have his power! Please, let me help!"
Hero had tried to stand his ground this whole time while the vampire spoke, but lost his nerve when Owen took a step forward, his eyes blazing with passion. It seemed to make the red ring in them thicken and intensify with the flames of the devil himself! When Hero stumbled backwards, He looked down at the boy of about his same age and laughed maniacally before offering his hand to help. Hero looked at it. "Come on, friend. I won't bite." His grin curved around his fangs and Hero realized it was a joke. Although he didn't find it particularly funny at the time, he gave a polite laugh that also served to let out a much needed breath of relief. He gripped the hand and was helped to his own feet.
Bard then said, "Go home, Eska. This is too big for you." And with that, he started walking away form the remaining three. They watched in stunned silence, and then Hero ran in front of him and stopped him.
"Do you love this boy?"
"What?" Bard was confused.
"Do you love him?"
His face then grew grim. "Like a son. That's why he can't come. He'll get hurt."
"Listen, he and that knight just helped us dispatched an entire squad of the Dark Army without us even breaking a sweat. Think of what we could do to the Sapphire Court with that kind of power. I mean, the Wizard's bound to have more than a single squadron guarding the Court. And, when you get to the crystal, you can wish for him to be cured as well."
Bard thought about this a while. "Fine. But if he's in over his head, I'm telling him to leave." The two headed back to the others and they struck camp just off the road and next to a stream, away from the stench of decaying bodies from earlier.
That night, all were bedding down after a wonderful dinner of deer meat and biscuits. Hero still wasn't sure about that knight guy. After all the goodnights had been said, they all went to sleep. At about 2 A.M., Hero was awakened by the sound of clinking metal. He immediately thought of the barbarian that had attacked him. He froze in his cloak and pretended to be sleeping, but the sound went away from him. When he could barely hear it anymore, he ventured a look. The knight, Yuras, had gotten up from his bed and headed off toward the stream. Hero decided to follow and make sure there was no betrayal in their midst. He tried to maintain visual contact as he followed, but it was slightly difficult in the wooded terrain. When the clinking of the metal stopped, so did Hero. After a little bit, he slowly made his way around to a good vantage point for where the last of the sound had come from. What happened next changed the way he looked at the knight Yuras Epul Ker for the remainder of their time in each others presence.
The knight sat on the river bank. His helmet lay on the grass next to him. He was removing the rest of his armor, piece by piece. Hero thought he looked way too skinny to be as powerful as he had been the other day. Then, Hero realized he was looking at a skeleton. His eyes widened and he was in slight shock. Yuras would dip his helmet into the river and, once full, would dump its contents over the rest of his body. When the river water touched his bones, it would steam and evaporate almost instantly. The sound that escaped from the knight's mouth (Hero wasn't sure how that was possible but accepted it anyway. He had come to accept a lot of things that scared and confused him) was a small groan. It sounded like it was painful, but also relieving at the same time, like iodine was to a fresh cut. Hero slowly turned to put his back against the tree he had been peering out from. His breathing was racing and he had to clamp his hand over his mouth to keep himself quiet. He finally had gathered the courage to sneak another glance at the strange spectacle when he realized that the filling and pouring sounds had ceased. He looked out at the river and saw the empty shell of the suit of armor and nothing more. He glanced around and tried to see if the bare skeleton had maybe gone somewhere, when a bony hand reached around to his shoulder and pulled him back to face its owner. The other hand grabbed his shirt and lifted him off the ground and pinned him against the tree. Yuras' eyes were literally aflame. The gray skull stared back with its dead but flaming orbs. "What do you want?" A deep, bass, echoing voice that sounded like it could've commanded legions of demons.
Hero managed to stammer something out like, "To know you."
The being cocked its head at this and relaxed its grip on the terrified lad. Hero fell to his feet and, gathering his wits, stood up to face the skeleton. "What's your story?"
The skeleton thought a bit and said once again in its dark voice, "what's yours?" So Hero told him of Highland and Goodhome and of meeting Bard Fathe. The being took it all without saying a word. Then at the end of the story, began telling his, "I was a farmer just outside Goodhome. Just Yuras Epul Ker, the simple farmer. One day, Deelar came and demanded that my family and I move to Highland or else. I refused and he came back with a group of soldiers. I was out in my field and I didn't see the smoke until it was too late. They had trapped my family inside our house and lit it up. In my rage, I went to my tool shed and grabbed anything I could use as a weapon and charged towards where the army was resting. I started flinging shovels and pitchforks at anyone who tried to touch me. When I had exhausted my entire arsenal, except for my scythe, it was only me and their captain, the former owner of that suit of armor. He was somewhat a mage and, as I had caught them unprepared for battle, he was unarmed. But for a mage, you're never truly unarmed. We battled for quite a while. I learned to dodge his magic attacks and he learned to shield himself from my onslaught. I being a farmer and he being a self-righteous power herder who had others work for him, worked out so that he tired much before I did. He was too slow once to get his shield up before my attack, and we were caught in a deadlock. For quite some time, we stared into each others eyes and pushed against each other in our deadly tug of war. Finally, I was able to shrug him off and slash his right arm and follow it up with a slash to his mid section. With his dying breath, lying on the ground, holding in his guts with his good arm, he cursed me. He said, 'May my armor be bound to you forever, and always will your eyes burn with the hatred I see in them now.' Then, his eyes rolled back into his head and he fell flat on the dirt. The armor rose and separated from itself. The pieces flew and swarmed around me. Then, one at a time, the pieces attached themselves to me body and swallowed my skin and organs, until I became dependant on the suit, that horrid curse. Even now, I grow weary without the armor clamped tight around my gruesome form. The water helps with the pain. I take it off now and then to prove to myself that he doesn't have complete control over me. I want revenge, just as Owen does. There. Now we know each other." Yuras began to head back toward the river.
"Wait!" Hero cried after him. Yuras turned and looked at him. Hero came up to him and offered his hand.
Yuras looked at him and once again cocked his head and regarded the young boy. "Aren't you frightened?"
Hero managed a weak smile. "Yes."
Yuras grinned for the first time. His teeth were rotten and a dark green seaweed color. Some had holes through them. It was a hideous sight to see, but Hero understood the meaning behind it. "You scare easily, friend." Yuras gripped the outstretched hand and shook it eagerly.
The next morning, Hero felt much more comfortable with his companions. They packed up and once again embarked upon the Reh-ab Road for their destinations. Each of them had different reasons, but they all wanted the same result: the fall of the Wizard and his brother. They chatted as if they were friends of ages far past. It was always easier on the Reh-ab Road with friends and companions to travel with. Even the grim and silent Yuras chuckled at the comical humor of Owen. He told jokes that were so hilarious, Hero had to stop walking to catch his breath. This was another of those moments of this sojourn that Hero felt almost at home again. By the time they reached the town, they were well acquainted with each other.
This town was called Sueese-ide. It was the town where the Sapphire Court was based. They agreed that they would spend the remainder of the day in the woods just outside the city and plan until they were actually ready to attack the Wizard's Court. The Court itself was the bas of operations for the Dark Army. It being stretched across the whole of the land within reach of the Wizard, there was high need for a base somewhere central. The Court was located somewhere near the center, which was supposedly just off the anteroom of the Wizard's castle. It is said that every member of the Dark Army of significant rank held some sort of residence in the castle. The small company couldn't see the castle from the heavily wooded area they had come from, but now that they were in the shadow of the monster, they could almost vouch that the rumors were right. The thing was huge. It extended high into the clouds. It was not only tall, but wide as well. Walls were on walls were on walls. Hero stood in awe of the magnificence of it all, but then he remembered that appealing things like this are almost always deceiving. It reminded him of the Tower of Babel, and the men that built it who thought they were better than others and wanted to make it to heaven before anybody else. Selfish.
The company agreed to let Owen run some reconnaissance for them. He headed right away into town. Everybody sat and enjoyed a much needed break from the world while he was gone. When he returned, he gave detailed descriptions of everything from the people to the castle anteroom itself.
"You mean you were actually in the anteroom?" Hero was astonished that he had been able to sneak that far in.
Owen smiled, "You'll find that vampires can be very…" He paused to run his tongue over one of his fangs. "…persuasive."
"Oh. Well, what was the town itself like? Will we have much resistance on the way?"
"Probably none whatsoever. The people are broken. They walk about their business with their hoods over their faces, much like me, but they cry and have cuts on their wrists. Some of them had scars on their throats from cutting. They seem so unhappy, as if they are so close to him that rules over them, but they can't do anything about it to stop him. The Court, I heard from a drunk guard, is where some of the people are summoned randomly and don't return. I think they go to feed the Dark Army." Hero involuntarily grimaced. Owen had been staring right at him to see if he would and smiled with satisfaction when he got the desired result. Hero didn't like that about him. "There weren't many guards for the rear entrance. The changing of the guard happens by midnight, so we'll have to be well inside before then. I think they under estimate the power of their fear. They rely too much upon that the hope that people like us won't unite against them because of fear. Anyway, the night is my ally while I am a vampire. So, I recommend we make our move just before the sun sets. That way, I can be up to my full strength by the time we should be in the castle. And, it seems fate is on our side." His eyes focused on Bard and a smile just flickered on his lips. "There's a full moon tonight and I know that will give you you're full strength." Hero could tell that Owen was anxious to see what his beloved king was capable of with the strength of the full moon at his back.
So that was the plan. Owen, despite his oddities, was a very resourceful and intelligent boy. He had already drawn a map on bark and explained to them the route they would take. All were mentally prepared, but not quite emotionally. Hero had thrown up a couple of times with the realization of what they were about to undertake. Bard explained to him that everybody feels nervous like that at some point before a great event they must perform. Hero quickly channeled his nervous energy into excited adrenaline rushes. He brought out the Evol blade and practiced parrying and counter-attacking with Yuras and Owen. This helped him prepare emotionally a little better than throwing up, he decided. They had their dinner early so as to not end up with cramps in mid battle. Once they had eaten, they waited. The waiting was the worst part, Hero decided. He grew wrestles and got up and jogged around a bit. That helped again. Any kind of athletics had always made him feel better. Finally, the wait was over and they departed for the castle's rear entrance. They all had hoods up and cloaks wrapped tightly about their forms. Yuras had a particularly hard time with this disguise, but it worked out just fine. Eventually, after what seemed like hours of jumping at everything that moved, they came to the spot where Owen had ambushed and killed the rear guards. Hero took a deep breath and decided that it was still the best thing for him to do. Then, they took their first steps into the final challenge. There were five ways they could take from the anteroom. They started with the left.
The castle was massive and had huge, cavernous rooms in some parts and tight, cramped hallways in other parts. In all reality, it was the work of a deranged mind. Staircases twisted upwards and led to a huge hallway that led to another small staircase that led to the first staircase. There was no logical pattern that they could follow. There didn't appear to even be an illogical pattern they could follow. All they could do was attempt trial and error and figure out which ways were bad. Eventually, after they had tried most of the five original paths from the entrance, they were catching on to madness. All they had to do was choose the right each time they came to a fork, and they would get somewhere new. Somehow, they reached the Sapphire Court in the center. It shouldn't have worked, but they weren't about to retrace their steps and find out how it did.
The great, Emerald Doors were gilded and laced with gold on the outermost edge, embedded with rubies in the center, and diamond dust had been added when the liquid emerald was poured into the mold of the door, giving it an ever shining sheen over the light green color. Hero walked toward it in awe and put his hand on the legendary door. A man and his family up to his great-great-grandchildren could live off of the rocks he know felt in the palm of his hand. He slid his hand across it and felt all the jewels and valuable stones. Then…he pushed it all aside and they all entered after him into the gigantic room. He had to concentrate on what was really important, especially now.
The four companions made their way through the court. On either side, elevated seating loomed over them. The narrow way led to a circular judgment area, where a guillotine rested, thirsting for innocent blood. Then, in the stands, there was a specific chair that was raised higher than the rest. It faced directly towards the entrance. The throne! It was made out of pure gold. The cushion of the seat was made of deep purple colored silk. That's a lie. He didn't deserve to sit on the color of royalty. He overthrew the rightful king long ago and let his kingdom rot while he enjoyed the splendors of royal life.
The Court seemed to be empty, so the four made their way to stairs on the sides of the circular portion of the room and made the climb. Once at the same elevation as the seats, they made their way to the throne and found the curtain that hid the short hallway leading to the great, saving orb. Just as Hero was about to lay his hand upon the curtain to pull it back, a voice called back to them from the middle of the room. "Oh, please! None of you have a pure enough heart for what's back there." The companions turned and faced their enemy for the first time. He was surrounded by many armored knights, much like the one that Yuras had fought, but they didn't seem to be mages. To his left and right hands were the Wolf and Bat Fathers. Also, Deelar was there behind the whole group looking anxious and nervous, fidgeting with a curved dagger and glancing around often. He clutched at something around his neck. 'It's odd that he should be so nervous when they had the home team advantage,' Hero thought. And then the Wizard's eyes fell on Hero. And his smile faded. "Kill them ALL!" He wore a purple cape and a silver crown with one emerald and two rubies. In his left hand he held the Crystal Scepter and his right held an elaborate golden hilted short sword.
He and his knights leapt up to the level that they were all at and the Wizard himself headed straight for Hero. Hero froze and couldn't move. Actually seeing his enemy was much different than thinking he could fight against him. Then, Yuras shoulder tackled the false king into the wall, pinning him there. "Go, Hero! You're the only one with even a chance at a wish!" Hero turned and ran straight through the curtain. The king shrugged off Yuras and started after him. That was the last thing Hero saw before the curtain fell back over the scene. Behind the curtain, there was only a small room, nothing extravagant. But there, in the center, with steps leading down to it, was the crystal ball resting on a pedestal. It was a deep, wet blue-green color. It was the size of two horses. Hero went as if to stand right in front of the marvelous creation. As he neared the orb, though, it seemed to change color. Hero stopped and so did the changing of the orb. He dared another step forward. It began to reflect its surroundings, but they were reflected with a strange blurry atmosphere to them. He took another step, and everything distorted in the reflection, almost like the negative of a picture, but it all had a sinister film cast over it. Hero took another step. The door disappeared in the reflection somehow. The light grew from the dark of a negative picture, to a ghastly pale light, and a misty veil spread its fingers throughout the small room. Hero stopped. He was in arm's reach of the orb. In the image the crystal ball displayed, he was the only thing that had not changed, he realized. He could not take his eyes from the spectacle. Then, unconsciously, he put his hand up to the crystal ball and reached for it. Despite the raging chaos of battle outside, he felt no need for haste, and he was curious. He vaguely remembered hearing somebody pull the curtain aside, but didn't care. He made contact with his hand and…
…Everything switched. He then realized that he was staring at a perfect reflection of the room. Hero lifted his head and looked around and realized that the reflection he had been staring was now where he was. There was no door, only this small, ethereal room. His attention turned back to the crystal ball and took his hand away form it. As he did so, his reflection did not. He saw that somebody had peered into the room, and they were frozen, just like his reflection and the reflection of the room. He pondered over this phenomenon for a while before looking around.
The door had been replaced with a trunk. The trunk was large and made of gold. Hero walked up the stairs leading to it. There was an inscription on the front end. It read, 'the contents must be returned'. He opened it and there were four small boxes. They were labeled 'Bard', 'Yuras', 'Owen', and 'Hero'. Hero gathered the three boxes for his friends and wrapped them up in his cloak. He sat on one of the steps and began opening his box. Inside, there was a small dagger and a folded piece of paper. He slipped the dagger into the inside of his boot and took out the piece of paper. He unfolded it and began to cry at what he saw.
It was a drawing of his family. It was expertly drawn with exquisite detail. He stared at it a long time and let the tears flow. In the drawing, the sun was shining, the family was all laughing, and Hero was in the center, beaming with the feeling of true happiness. He had stared at it for a long while and then it began to move. His brothers were pushing each other playfully, one of his older sisters was doing the hair of one of his little sisters, and, in the middle of it all, his parents were hugging each other and talking to him about the future and all the wonderful things that would happen to him. Then, it slowed to a crawl and back in the position it had been in when he first saw it. He then wiped his eyes and tucked the drawing away in his shirt, close to his heart. He gathered up his cloak and headed back towards the crystal ball, where reality was waiting.
He turned around and faced Yuras, who had just entered the room. Their eyes met for an instant. Then, Bard Fathe, in his wolfen form crashed through the roof with the Green Wizard on top of him. They landed just before the orb's pedestal. Bard backhanded the Wizard and sent him flying back and he landed just inside the hallway that leads to the Courtroom. He was not on his back for more than a second when he started to levitate and conjure up a fireball to launch at his enemy. Bard, in his rage, turned and bear hugged the crystal ball. Hero immediately saw what was going to happen, but couldn't do anything to stop it. He still needed to return the boxes before it could be destroyed. There was a moment's hesitation before he hefted it, leaning back to balance the tremendous weight. It was definitely heavier than he was. He swayed to one side, then flung all his weight in the opposite direction and spun around once before releasing the orb and sending it flying into the Wizard. The force of the blow sent the Wizard into the wall, punching another hole through it and landing him in the center of the Court.
Hero and Yuras and Bard sprinted all out through the small hallway into the Courtroom. Owen was still battling a knight. There were several dead where Yuras had been before Hero entered the ball, including the Wolf Father. The dead ones near Owen had all been drained of blood, it seemed, including the ever pale Bat Father. Hero noticed that Owen now used the sword of the Bat Father. Bard pushed past Yuras and Hero and ran to where the Wizard was laying. He grabbed him by his neck and threw him into the guillotine. "And now, oh great Wizard," said Yuras, prophetically, "you shall suffer the same fate that you bestowed upon so many innocents." He looked up to the great wolfen king, pulling the cord to release the blade, and saw no more.
Owen finished off the last of the knights quickly and headed over to where the group was now assembling in the center of the Sapphire Court, next to a cracked and broken crystal ball. Once they were gathered, they looked to Hero expectantly. He then set his cloak on the ground and spread it upon the ground. Each of the party took their boxes and examined them. They were of very ancient and exquisite make. One by one, they opened their boxes. When they did, it seemed to have a suction effect. Slowly, slowly, Hero's companions returned to their original, human shape. Bard's fur disappeared into the box and he returned to his regular shape and size. Yuras' armor clattered to the ground all around him, as he sank to his knees and cried tears of joy in his hands. Owen's fangs shrank back to normal canine size and his pale skin and eyes regained their normal color. They examined their hands and arms and touched their faces, as if this was the first time they realized they had these appendages and features. Owen twirled around the Bat Father sword. He said, admiring it, "I never imagined I could beat the Bat Father at his own game. This should be proof enough for those who won't believe." He then sheathed it and put his box back on the cloak.
"Oh! I almost forgot!" Bard sprinted off towards the former resting place of the crystal ball. A moment later, he ran up to them with a gold colored bag. "When I touched the crystal ball, I heard a voice that said, 'the purpose of this orb is near complete. This bag must be given to the young one for setting things right. Finish your battle, king,' and then I threw the ball. So, here." He handed it to Hero. Hero wrapped the boxes back in his cloak and put it in the bag. He then drew the drawstrings on the gold bag and there was a flash of light and he could no longer feel the weight of the boxes in the bag. Slowly, the gold color of the bag faded to that of normal leather. Hero tossed it over his shoulder, strapped the Evol blade into its place on his back, and started walking out of the Court. The group followed silently.
They were able to navigate their way very easily out of the castle. It seems that the Wizard had cursed it, and now that he was gone, the curse was lifted. They reached the front entrance and as they were coming out, a cheer sounded in the air. The entire village had gathered in front of the castle and was shouting and jumping and crying for joy. Hero was amazed. He didn't think that so much joy could come from a nation after one man perishing. Then, all thoughts of celebration left his head when he felt a cold, metal noose draw tight around his neck. It was Deelar. The coward had snuck away and now he was going to use Hero as a hostage to get away unharmed.
"Nobody move! If anybody comes near to me, I WILL KILL HIM!" Deelar was sweating heavily and was shaky. Then he whispered in Hero's ear, "Listen, I know where you've been and I need to get back there. I have something from there." Reaching for the Evol blade was out of the question, with Deelar pressing his body against Hero's back. So, slowly, as Deelar rambled, Hero lifted his leg and was reaching for the dagger in his boot. 'Thank the fates I forgot to put it in the bag.' Deelar was still going on. "I took this medallion and I can control time with it! It's incredible!" 'He's mad!' Hero finally got his hand around the handle of the dagger. He felt that Deelar had eased up with the dagger against his skin while lost in his ramblings. "I know that I've wronged you, but something is after me and it's going to come after you too!" Hero had taken all he could. He pushed Deelar's blade away from his neck and stabbed him in the chest with one swift, fatal movement. He had hit Deelar's precious medallion that he thought had special powers and it had penetrated through the gold and right into his chest. Deelar had bent over and clutched at the small dagger in him. He looked at Hero. "You…fool…!" Then, he threw back his head and gold light started pouring out of his eyes and mouth as he began to scream. The place where the dagger and medallion had met was also emanating light. The light grew so intense that everybody had to shield their eyes. Then, there was no more screaming and no more Deelar. Not even a body. Hero was tired, so he didn't care. The cheer then grew even louder and people hoisted the four companions on their shoulders and paraded them throughout the streets. They then feasted until dark and continued in their celebrations until midnight. The four companions were then given the most luxurious rooms available. They slept for near to 15 hours.
When they finally awoke, the people had held a council. They had decided that they wanted the four to be their rulers. It seems that, without organization, most of the people of Goodhome had packed up and came into the city once they heard the news of the return of their king. Bard accepted the offer and appointed Owen and Yuras to his generals. He had also asked Hero to be a general, but he declined. Instead, he wanted to rebuild Goodhome and to act as its prince, with Goodhome's loyalties lying to King Bard. Bard granted the request and prince Hero headed for the remains of the city of Goodhome with an army of workers and settlers. The good prince rebuilt the city of Goodhome and remained loyal to King Bard, who had changed the name of his city from Sueese-ide to Seying-chruth. Seying-chruth and Newgoodhome remained allied cities from that time forward. Prince Hero didn't find his family immediately after the events of the Sapphire Court, but he still has hope that they're out there, with a refugee camp or starting a new life somewhere. He patrols the woods often, and occasionally finds a lost refugee group from Oldgoodhome. The Prince is happy, though, with his new life. He knows that he saved hundreds of people's lives. But on that rare occasion that he is feeling down, he often times pulls out an old drawing of his family and stares at it for hours, comforting him and compelling him to keep hoping.
And so ends this fairy tale of grief, pain, battle, and, finally, happiness. But is this really just a fairy tale?
this work is dedicated to my niece Lily. May you have a happy fairy tale ending.