Race Through Time:

Campfire Stories

"Thank you for helping me set up the tents, Rosetta," Dwight said once he and Rosetta had set up the pup tents.

"Your welcome," she said with a small, but sincere smile. The pilgrims were kind enough to spare some of their extra camping supplies for Rosetta despite the fact that she just recently joined the group. For some reason, Rosetta felt comfortable around the pilgrims. Maybe it's because they haven't treated me like a helpless little girl yet, she thought.

Nighttime had fallen above the Eastern Highlands. The pilgrims were all doing something to keep themselves busy. Maurice was consulting a map he possessed, Eglantine was helping Aaron tend to his herd of sheep, Isaac was counting his money, Anaïs was going back and forth from and to the river in order to fetch water, and Harry was tending the campfire while Tristan cooked dinner for everyone. Dwight and Rosetta went to sit by the campfire in order to get warmed up by the flames.

"It's impressive how you can multitask with six arms," Rosetta commented as she watched Dwight the Tapiser stretch his arms and hands all at once in less than a minute.

"Thank you. It's nice to hear people appreciate my skills rather than run away screaming because of my sight," he said, slightly glum. Rosetta felt bad for the Tapiser: who knew how often he must have dealt with arachnophobic people?

"So, you all have known one another for thirty-one years?" she asked, changing the topic.

"Thirty-five, actually," Dwight said. "We're aware of the Evil Queen's Dark Curse and the others that followed it. Being as far away from the curse saved us from being cursed ourselves; however, the side effect is that we didn't age for close to three decades as if time stopped. Mark my words, we'd be much older than we are right now. Heck, Aaron would be dead by now."

Rosetta quickly glanced at the shepherd dog parson as fed a cute lamb with a bottle of milk. She didn't want to imagine the pilgrim who had been nice to her from the beginning dying.

"And how did you exactly all meet? I don't suppose you came from the same town or something…" Based on what she read from Chaucer's version and the Book of Life's interpretation, the pilgrims were supposed to be from different areas around the world.

"It actually began with Maurice." Dwight pointed one of his numerous fingers at the owl clerk, who was still busy doing calculations and observing his map. "He came from a multi-species city in the northeast and worked in an 'Oxford library' as he called it. One day, he found an old manuscript that told the legends of the Canterbury Shrine, a place so magical that it was said to be able to solve any individual's problem.

"Maurice then spent days and nights researching for more information about the shrine until one fateful day, he finally found a map leading to the shrine in a sorcerer's shop. Our dear old clerk then left his home to go seek out the shrine."

"And what a trip it was!" Maurice suddenly said as he went to sit by the campfire and joined the storytelling. "I rode my horse for days and nights, only stopping at a few inns when it was really necessary. Then, two months after I left my home, I arrived in some small town…"

"DON'T YOU DARE, MAURICE!" Isaac shouted, losing his attention from his money. His raise in vocal volume caught the attention of the other pilgrims, who lifted their heads away from their chores.

"What?" Maurice said, faking innocence. "It's when I met you in Nottinghamshire. You used to manage the land of the local lord, what was his name again? Rawhill?"

"Rushcliffe," Isaac corrected impatiently. "And at least I made a living as a reeve, you know! Managing lands and collecting taxes for his Highness Prince John…"

"What about dirt?" Rosetta asked drily. "Did you collect that as well?" Isaac's pig face blushed in angered embarrassment while the other pilgrims laughed at Rosetta's joke.

"That was a good one!" Harry said in an accent that sounded Russian. The Reeve looked like he wanted to hit the Monk until Maurice went back to the story.

"So I arrived in town and I ran into Isaac, who mistook me for this miller who was in debt and needed to pay a month's worth of taxes," Maurice continued. "It went into this public bickering: 'Pay up your taxes, miller!' 'I beg your pardon, sire, but I am not a miller. I'm a clerk.' 'Sure. You told me three weeks ago that you'd pay up your shillings for tax collections, and then the week after that, you said you were halfway into paying. It's been a month now and you still haven't paid!'"

"Then came the part where I called the Sheriff and had Maurice thrown in jail," Isaac said, "only for me to meet the actual miller coming to my house with a bag full of the money he owed me. He meant to bring it to me earlier, but he got drunk while spending the night at a local tavern. Plus, I found out he sold his mill and possessions in order to pay up…"

"You then came to the Sheriff's station and managed to convince the Sheriff to let me go," Maurice said, resting a feathered hand on Isaac's shoulder. "And you joined me on the quest to find the shrine of Canterbury."

"Wow. Ya forgave him that easily?" Anaïs snorted. "Even though he was da reason ya were thrown in jail?"

"Give them a break, Anaïs!" Eglantine scolded the hippo before bringing everyone back to the topic. "Then, after Maurice met Isaac, they traveled for several months until they reached Glowerhaven…"

"Not too far from the Chihuahan Desert?" Rosetta blurted out, remembering that San Angel was located in the desert and the desert was a thousand miles away from Glowerhaven. Perhaps if she could manage, she could try to reach the desert and find the town, where she could try to locate Xibalba and La Muerte and ask them to send her back to Storybrooke…

Don't be stupid, Rosetta! The Eastern Highlands are in the far east of the Enchanted Forest and the Chihuahan Desert is on its far opposite! She mentally scolded herself.

As if reading her thoughts, Eglantine said: "You know, if you desperately need to go to the Chihuahan Desert, you could join us in our quest to find the shrine of Canterbury and it can help you go to your location."

Rosetta's face brightened. "Really? Then…could the shrine send me back to my home?"

"Most likely," Maurice said. "After all, the shrine can grant any individual's problem."

"Why didn't I think about that?" In less than a blink, the now excited Rosetta was hugging Maurice. The clerk was a bit surprised but genuinely returned the gesture. "Thank you so much!"

"Now hold it!" Isaac said. "How do we know for sure that she's not gonna turn on us once we arrive at the shrine?"

"You really are pathetic, Isaac," Tristan shook his head as he began handing out bowls full of cooked beans to his fellow pilgrims. "Can't you see she's just a little girl who wants to go home?"

"Come to think about it, I might get in serious trouble once I go back," Rosetta pondered. "How far is the shrine from here?"

"Glad you asked." Maurice held out the map he had been studying earlier and showed it to the others. "We should be able to leave the Eastern Highlands for good in less than two days. After that, we only have some sort of unknown wasteland to cross in order to reach the shrine of Canterbury. Overall, it should take us a week or two to get there."

"Wow. Mommy's seriously gonna ground me." A realization hot Rosetta and she slapped her head. "Dang it! I forgot that I was supposed to have Tea Thursday with Fidget today. Hopefully he'll forgive me…"

"Who's Fidget?" Harry asked as he greedily gobbled into his bean meal.

"Well, his nickname is Fidget the Bat, but his full name is actually Fitzgerald Denada Cortés…"

"Oh, I heard that name! He used to be a Navy Sergeant for the Queen of Aldorada before the nation crumbled over centuries ago. He was a legendary warrior, but he somehow disappeared."

"Wait," Aaron said. "What do you mean, the nation of Aldorada crumbled?"

"Well, you see, the Denada Cortés family has had a legacy of incredible military officers. No war fought by Aldorada has ever lasted long with a Denada Cortés on the field. The General Hernan Denada Cortés was known for leading armies to victory in less than a week, but legends say that his son did so in less than a day. Put him on the field and he could strike ten men all at once with only one swish of his sword." Harry then turned to Rosetta. "But how is it possible that he's still alive and in your world? By now, he could be like 300 years old."

"That's pretty old," Tristan commented as he took a bite of his meal. "I can picture the wrinkles right now."

"Hey, he doesn't have wrinkles!" Rosetta said defensively. "I mean, sure he's been a jerkass for a bit due to some misunderstanding that made him want to seek power in order to get revenge on some pirate, but he's not horrible physically and emotionally at every second. All he has that's not very pretty is a notched ear, a peg leg, and a crooked wing…"

"A crooked wing?" Eglantine asked, confused. "Isn't Fitzgerald Denada Cortés human?"

"Legends say he's a non-human like most of us," Harry said before turning to Rosetta. "Isn't he, Rosetta?"

"Well, yeah." Rosetta began to feel sweat rolling down her head for some reason. "I mean, until now it was believed that he was the last of his kind…that is…until I saw Tristan today."

Tristan was the first to spit out the beans from his mouth. Next thing you knew, he was grabbing the little girl by the throat, nearly choking her as his black eyes glared at her.

"Fitzgerald Denada Cortés…" he asked angrily, "is…a Batrishan…AS OLD AS THE BATRISHAN GENOCIDE?"