Courage and Cowardice - Chapter 22
Courage and Cowardice - Chapter 22
Before he could finish though, there was a flash of light, and before anyone could react the Chevalier Ténèbre had flung his sword across the room and into Grenn’s stomach.
The husband made answer, "Wife, if your sin be double, our joy is manifold. Very tenderly hath God dealt with us, in giving us back our child. I am altogether joyous and content to have two daughters for one. Daughter, come to your father's side."
-The Lay of the Ash Tree
The insides of the Tarasque were certainly a sight to behold. Pink, slightly squamous caverns and tunnels, pulsating and warm with life. Germs the size of crystal balls, floating leisurely all about. Rivers of bodily fluids, rushing and crashing like tidal waves against their rosy shores. And in one tiny part of this immense ecosystem, scrubbing out a blackened taint that now stained the Tarasque’s innards, Esmeralda was hard at work with her brushes, soaps, and mops.
“Whew,” Esmeralda wiped her sweating brow. When she had first been kidnapped, she had naturally been frightened. But once the frogmen had brought her to the Tarasque, and she had heard the plight of the poor leviathan, naturally Esmeralda had leapt at the chance to help her. Esmeralda had of course heard tales of the Tarasque, but to see the creature in real life, greater and grander than anything she had ever imagined, it had been too incredible for words. How could Esmeralda have said no to such a beautiful creature’s plea?
Now that she was there though, able to witness in full the black mold that had taken root inside the Tarasque, Esmeralda realized the sheer magnitude of the task before her. The dark taint seemed to stretch for miles and miles. It seemed almost impossible to clean it all at once. But every time Esmeralda thought of quitting, her mind would flash back to the eyes of the Tarasque, and their plaintive, pleading glow. Esmeralda simply couldn’t say no to those eyes. And so, no matter how much sleep or hunger or simple, general pessimism took hold of her, Esmeralda quickly shooed the thoughts out of her mind, and continued her work.
Suddenly, something glistened beneath Esmeralda’s brush. Peering down in curiosity, the girl saw a beautiful blue pearl, no bigger than her hand, wedged inside the pulsing, pink ground. Esmeralda could hardly believe the sheer beauty the jewel possessed, as she picked the gem up and examined it closely. It seemed to almost contain a whole océan inside its cerulean light. Esmeralda simply couldn’t leave such a treasure alone. Without hesitation she placed the pearl inside her pocket, to keep it safe until her task was complete. Then, without giving the jewel a second thought, the girl struck up a merry hum, and went back to her scrubbing.
“Nngh!” Morien clenched his teeth as he barely squeezed through the hole in the wall. At last, with a popping sound, he managed to get out with a tumble to the ground.
“Oof!” Morien winced as he regained his footing. “Man, I can see why the builders had a hard time getting through here.”
“Gribb-gribbit-gribb-gribb,” Grenn chirruped irascibly at Morien. No translator was necessary to understand his message.
“Hey, I’m moving as fast as I can!” Morien griped.
“As… nngh… am I!” Now it was Prince Jourdain’s turn to squeeze through the hole.
Morien sighed as he glanced around the cavern walls. Still no sign of the Chevalier. So long as they kept to Grenn’s lead though, they would eventually reach the sickness by one of the three possible points of access. Then it was only a matter of time before they found Esmeralda, got her out, and made preparations for the dark knight again. With the only possible way out through the Tarasque’s mouth, the frogmen would have the Chevalier cornered. All they needed to do was wait for the right moment to strike, then the magical might of all the frogmen would surely be enough to take the dark knight down.
Of course, there was the possibility that one of the three rescue parties would be intercepted by the Chevalier before they reached Esmeralda. But Morien tried not to consider that possibility too much. The thought was too terrifying for him to contemplate.
With a gasp, Jourdain popped out of the hole, bringing Morien’s thoughts back to reality.
“Ow…” Jourdain winced as he made it back to his feet. “I’ve been through too much tonight. I’m not used to all this excitement.”
“Tell me about it,” Morien smiled ruefully. “Before all this, I was just some nobody from Songhay. Now every day I’m lucky if I make it out alive.”
“A nobody?” Jourdain blinked in surprise as the trio made their way down the tunnel. “But I… I just thought you must have been some noble knight.”
“Me?” Morien was flabbergasted. “Why on earth would you think that?”
“Well… just… I don’t know,” Jourdain shrugged. “Just something about you, I guess.”
“If you bring up that nonsense about breeding-” Morien bristled as he remembered Eva’s harsh words.
“No no no!” Jourdain gasped. “I didn’t mean anything like that! Believe me! Honest! I mean… one of the greatest people I’ve ever known is a slave. I wish I could be half as brave as her sometimes.”
At that Morien blinked in surprise. Her?
“So how come the frogmen didn’t leave for Fairyland with the rest of the Fair Folk?” Erin asked Illyria to ask Gorrum, who led them now.
“He says…” Illyria translated. “Many frogmen did end up leaving. But they couldn’t… because they couldn’t leave mother behind.”
“Makes sense,” Erin sighed. “The Tarasque obviously means a lot to them. But surely she could have left as well. I don’t think size was much of a problem for potential émigrés.”
“Yes, but…” Illyria continued as Gorrum continued. “Mother couldn’t leave. She can’t leave. If she ever leaves… Aix will be destroyed.”
“Huh?” Erin was flabbergasted. “But… why? I know she’s supposed to protect the riverfolk and all that, but surely the city could stand on its own without her.”
Illyria transferred the message to Gorrum, and then to both her and Erin’s surprise, the frogman began to chuckle.
“He… he says… that’s a funny choice of words,” Illyria said.
“How come?” Erin asked.
“Because… because Aix is built into mother’s shell. She is the island that Aix sits upon.”
Tenderly, lightly, Yann tapped the hollow orb that danced descendingly to the floor, making it lazily float up once again. This had been going on for several minutes, with Yann tapping the orb just as it reached his eyeline; a neverending cycle of descent and ascent.
“Yann, stop playing with the germ,” Hobie sighed.
“Woob-woob-woob!” Gerrick objected.
“Anyone know what he just said?” Julia asked.
“Alas, no,” Hobie glowed. “Perhaps we should have taken Illyria with us.”
“Well, we don’t need to speak the language to follow them,” Julia sighed.
“I know,” Hobie replied. “But I’d have liked to have asked them about this magical interference I’ve been getting since I came here.”
“Huh?” Julia blinked in surprise. “You mean the same stuff that was interfering with Erin’s tracking?”
“Yes,” Hobie glimmered. “I thought it was the frogmen’s magic, or even possibly the Tarasque. But now I’m… I’m sensing something else entirely.”
“How do you mean?” Julia asked.
“I don’t know,” Hobie sighed. “Which is why I’d like to ask the frogmen about it.”
“Well, I-” Julia was cut off by Yann’s arm swiping in front of her to tap the orb once again.
“Would you cut that out?” Julia griped.
“So if you are a Mandenka,” Jourdain helped Morien up the formation they now climbed. “What are you doing all the way here in Carolina?”
“W-well,” Morien blushed in embarrassment. “It… uh… it’s kind of a long story.”
From the top of the formation, Grenn growled a griping gribbit down at them. The frogman had easily leapt up and left the two humans in the dust.
“I think we have time,” Jourdain sighed.
“Okay then,” Morien heaved himself up the pink cliff. “Like I said, I was a nobody back in the Songhay Empire. But one day I met a merchant from Cagliostro, and he told me the story of Orlando.”
“From Romany?” Jourdain lit up.
“Yeah,” Morien was surprised. “You know him?”
“Of course I do!” Jourdain laughed. “Every boy in Carolina knows his story.”
“Well, I started reading more and more of those kinds of stories,” Morien grinned as he remembered the extensive library he had amassed when he was younger. “Not just of Orlando, but all the Twelve Valiants. When I became older, I even hoped maybe I could go to Augusta.”
“So why are you here now?”
“Hobie,” Morien said. “We found each other… purely by accident, and I got involved with this quest.”
“Just like the heroes of old!” Jourdain smiled sadly. “I… I wish I could be like that. All I’ve done with my life is tend gardens.”
“W-well all I’ve done with my life is read books,” Morien muttered, not knowing how to receive such a compliment.
“But you saved Princess Rosa!” Jourdain pointed out.
“N-not really,” Morien mumbled. “I just… and anyway, I had a lot of help. And you’re going to free the slaves. That’s pretty great, I guess. I… I don’t really know how slavery is here.”
“Why, how is it where you’re from?” Jourdain asked.
“Well, I mean, you can get captured in a war, or get caught with a bunch of debt, or be sentenced to it because of some crime you did. But you can get out of it if you work hard enough. You can even get married, and your kids will be free. Although, there’s still a stigma to the main slave tribes, like… the Mandenka. And, I guess, prisoners of war have it pretty rough, but… I don’t know.”
“I see…” Jourdain bowed his head. “That… that’s not how it is here at all. Slaves can’t get married. At least, not officially. And their children aren’t born free. Once a slave, always a slave. And we… sometimes we get them from the White Sea market, but mostly we get them from the west.”
“Like Slavonia?”
“Yes, like Slavonia,” Jourdain grimaced. “And… and it isn’t right, by Yehovah! Someone has to do something about it! Someone has to take a stand! But I… I’m starting to wonder if that’s even possible. Maybe I’m just kidding myself.”
Morien stared at the prince, as they stood now at the top of the formation. He looked so small and scared, not at all like the princes and kings he knew from his stories.
“Are you still going on about that?” Julia’s sigh breathed into his ear, and Morien knew she was right.
“Uh…” Morien wondered what words he could give the prince. “I mean… when I pictured coming to Augusta, I never thought it’d be like this. I thought it’d be a lot different, a lot less dangerous and weird. But I guess… there’s a difference between fantasy and reality, and making reality try to fit fantasy… it doesn’t really work. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try. Just, remember things won’t always fit… perfectly. Um… I guess.”
The prince thought back to his meetings with the dukes. Had the captain, perhaps, been right? Had a solution been right there, for Jourdain to take, if only he had not been so obstinate?
Before Jourdain could become lost in his thoughts though, a stern hand from Grenn slapped him and Morien back to reality.
“Ow!” Morien hissed.
“What was that for?” Jourdain griped.
The squeaks, chirrups, and hurried motions of Grenn’s irate figure painted a clear command for them to hurry up.
“R-right, sorry,” Morien sighed, and quiet contemplations were replaced with immediate action, as the trio hurried with their task once more.
“But why would the Tarasque just let people build a city on her?” Erin couldn’t understand.
“She is… mother,” Illyria translated. “To all who live in her river. And though… her children may forget her… she does not stop loving them.”
“Forget. So… the people don’t know?”
“I don’t think so,” Illyria said. “I certainly didn’t know. I… I guess everybody just forgot.”
“Forgot?” Erin was flabbergasted. “How do you forget a giant… giant?”
“I don’t know,” Illyria squeaked. “Aix was built a long time ago.”
“But then… that would… I… oh no,” Erin buried her face in her hands.
“What is it?” Illyria and Gorrum looked up at her concernedly.
“I know what the sickness is,” Erin groaned.
“So what’s this Chevalier’s deal?” Julia asked as she hopped onto a gizzard stone.
“How do you mean?” Hobie spoke loudly over the roar of the river they were crossing.
“Nyah-ah-ah!” Gerrick cried as a fish leapt from the river just in front of the gizzard stone where he stood.
“Well I mean, don’t you think it’s awfully suspicious of him to just up and try and kill Esmeralda?” Julia inquired.
“Hmm,” Hobie thought about it. “Normally I would say yes. However… I don’t actually know very much about the Chevalier. Even amongst the gossiping clergymen, I never heard a word about him.”
Yann leapt nimbly onto the next gizzard stone, his germ clasped firmly in his hands to keep it from escaping.
“Yeah, I never heard a thing about him either,” Julia furrowed her brow. “And those court ladies love to gossip! I should have heard at least something about the guy.”
“He’s quite a mystery,” Hobie admitted.
“Which makes me think something is up!” Julia said.
“Oh?”
“Think about it,” Julia pointed out. “Erin gave it all she had, but the Chevalier just brushed aside her magic like it was nothing!”
“But doesn’t that just support the queen’s theory of him practicing black magic?” Hobie asked.
Meanwhile, a giant fish had erupted towards Yann, its eyes gleaming greedily. As Yann held the germ up though, the fish-eyes widened in terror, and the beast slithered away in haste.
“But why go through all that trouble?” Julia queried. “If I was a nobleman and I wanted to kill a slave girl, I wouldn’t need to slink around in the shadows. I could do it in public, whenever I wanted, and no-one would care. And if I saw a bunch of magic frogs take the girl away, I wouldn’t bet on her still being alive. I’d think they’d got her for me.”
“So… ah, yes, I see,” Hobie glistened. “You think the Chevalier might be a mere pawn in all this.”
“Who would make a better pawn? Nobody knows him, so nobody could really vouch for him if he someday went crazy.”
“Yes. But… that still doesn’t explain why the murder was attempted with such secrecy. How do you account for that?”
As Julia sighed, Gerrick hopped down to the other side of the river, before calling back for the others to join him.
“I don’t know,” Julia muttered. “But there’s gotta be an answer somewhere.”
“Esmeralda!”
As Esmeralda looked up from her work, she dropped her brush in surprise.
“Jourdain!” she cried. “What are you doing here?”
“Jourdain?” Morien blinked in surprise. “Wait… how do you…”
And then he realized, as he remembered the scene he had witnessed in the royal garden.
“You! You’re the secret lover!” Morien gasped.
“Gribb?” Grenn squeaked.
“Wh-what?” Jourdain paled. “What are you talking about?”
“And what are you doing here?” Esmeralda asked.
“Now I see!” Morien groaned. “That’s why you were so invested in this! That’s why you want to free the slaves! That’s what all of this has been about!”
“L-listen Morien,” Jourdain knew there was no denying it. “I know what you’re going to say…”
“Seriously, what are you all doing here?” Esmeralda began to lose her patience.
“We’re here to rescue you!” Morien explained. “And this guy snuck out of the castle just to join us.”
“I know what you must be thinking about… all this,” Jourdain winced. “But I… I love her!”
“Of course you do,” Morien said. “Why else would you do all this?”
“But… I…” Jourdain stammered. “You don’t think…?”
“Think what?”
“Rescue me? From what?”
“Gribb-gribbit.”
“From the Chevalier,” Morien explained. Then, to Grenn, “Grenn, can you signal your friends that we’ve found Esmeralda and we’re coming back?”
“Gribbit!” Grenn gave a webby thumbs-up and began chanting.
Before he could finish though, there was a flash of light, and before anyone could react the Chevalier Ténèbre had flung his sword across the room and into Grenn’s stomach. Everyone gasped, but then just as they rushed over to their companion, the Chevalier was upon them. With one deft motion, the dark knight pulled out his sword and prepared to deal a deadly blow to Esmeralda.
Before the blow was struck though, Morien had drawn his own wooden blade and moved into a defensive position.
“Holy crap! Oh my gosh!” Morien squeaked as the ebony saber wedged itself into his little wooden stick, only inches away from his face. Great buckets of sweat poured down his neck, and a high-pitched whine carried on for several seconds before Morien realized it was coming from his own mouth.
Lying on the floor, Grenn quickly cast a healing spell on his torn stomach, but the wound was deep, and he would be occupied with its mending for quite a while yet. Meanwhile, Esmeralda rushed over to check on the poor frog, and Prince Jourdain fumbled with his sword, too terrified to move against the Chevalier.
With a disgusted grunt, the Chevalier wrested his sword from Morien’s stick, and the young man saw a giant nick where the sword had stuck. Quickly the dark knight turned his attention back to Esmeralda, readying his blade for another strike. But before he had a chance Morien swung his twig and struck the Chevalier’s pauldron, which fell to the ground with a clatter.
For a moment the Chevalier and Morien both stared in surprise at the dark knight’s now-bare shoulder. Then the next moment, Morien realized. The Chevalier himself may have been able to shrug off all of Erin’s magic, but his armor was less indestructible. And the Chevalier had been relentlessly pursuing his task all night. His armor must have already sustained extensive damage, enough damage to be marred by a simple, wooden twig. And if that was the case, Morien realized, maybe, just maybe, he stood a chance.
Calm, calm, calm. Morien repeated the words in his mind as he tempered his breathing and steadied his hands. He knew swordsmanship. He had practiced all the time back home. Of course, that had always been by himself, he had never worked with a moving target, but surely he could do this! As the Chevalier swung his blade Morien ducked, and struck at the dark knight’s knees. With a clamor the poleyns fell. Hurriedly Morien ducked between the Chevalier’s legs, and as he swung himself to face the dark knight’s back, his sword set loose the faulds. Yes. Yes! Morien laughed as he wedged his stick beneath the Chevalier’s plackart before the dark knight had turned around, and unsecured it from where it stood. He could do this! He could win! He could
Then the Chevalier stabbed him in the chest.
“What was that?” Erin halted in her tracks.
“It… it sounded like a scream,” Illyria whimpered timidly.
Indeed it did, Gorrum nodded worriedly. But it had been muffled, gurgled somehow, almost as though the screamer had been drowning.
“No. No…” Erin ran as fast as she could in the direction of the scream.
When at last she reached the corridor, and saw Morien lying there in his blood, Erin paid no attention to the Chevalier making his way menacingly towards Esmeralda, or to Grenn still occupied with the task of healing, or to Jourdain, still petrified and paralyzed with his own fear. With a scream Erin flew over to Morien, her lips already forming the words to a healing spell.
“NononopleasepleasepleasestaywithmestaywithmeMorien!” Erin howled as she poured all the magic she could into Morien. He couldn’t die! She wouldn’t allow it!
“Ezz… muhr…” Morien choked out.
“No Morien!” Erin cried. “What about you?”
“S-sevv… huhr… plzz…” Morien pleaded.
Erin looked up and saw the Chevalier raise his sword to strike Esmeralda down. Jourdain could not conquer his paralyzing fear, not even for the woman he loved. And Grenn, though he gribbited angrily at the Chevalier, could not distract the dark knight’s attention. Only Erin could save Esmeralda. But Morien’s wound was too deep. If she left his side, he would die. But as he gazed up at her, his eyes begged her to do the right thing, the noble thing. Oh, Erin cursed him beneath her breath, why did he always have to be like those storybook heroes? How could he ask her to leave her friend and save a stranger? It was too much. But in the end, it was the only way.
With a cry, a warrior’s scream, filled with the heart of a Celtic brave, Erin leapt up and swung her staff with all her might. The Chevalier instinctively readied his sword to parry, but the sheer magical might Erin exuded caught him off-guard, and the Chevalier was flung against the wall.
“You!” Erin screeched at Esmeralda.
“M-me?”
“Run away you idiot!” Erin howled. Then to Jourdain, “And you! Out of my way, you coward!”
With a barbaric yawp, Erin ran to meet the Chevalier, already back on his feet. Together the two titans clashed, the echoes from their blows vibrating against the cavern walls. So loud were they, the clangs and crashes were heard even by Julia, as she and her group continued their trek.
“What’s that noise?” she asked.
“Trouble,” Hobie growled.
Well then, Yann was the first to break into a run, they had best hurry, hadn’t they?
Indeed, Gerrick and the others quickly followed after him.
When at last they entered the cavern, just as Illyria and Gorrum made it there as well, Erin and the Chevalier were both near the breaking point. Heaving haggard breaths, the cuts and bruises beneath the Chevalier’s armor were now largely laid bare, his only remaining armor being the mask that cloaked his face. Erin meanwhile had nearly burnt through all the calories she’d consumed that night, and her stomach gurgled as her head began to grow dizzy.
“Esmeralda!” Illyria squeaked as she saw the retreating figure.
“Grenn!” Gerrick and Gorrum cried as they noticed their wounded friend.
“Morien!” Julia gasped as she saw the poor boy dying.
“The Key!” Hobie flashed.
Pardon? Yann glanced curiously at the Angelic Sphere.
“The Key! It’s here, I can sense it!” Hobie exclaimed.
“Grenn!” Gerrick and Gorrum rushed over to their friend and cast their most powerful healing magic on him.
“But it… it’s leaving! I don’t know how but the Key is leaving!” Hobie whizzed about, trying to figure out where the Key of Sea could have gone.
Is that so? Yann began to test the air resistance on his germ as he dunked the orb down repeatedly.
“Esmeralda!” Illyria hopped over in pursuit of her friend.
“Esmer-? Of course!” Hobie flew away in pursuit of the girl. “Esmeralda! Stop, please!”
“Ah! W-wait for me!” Illyria leapt onto the flying orb and clung on for dear life.
Interesting, Yann seemed satisfied with his tests, as he ceased his dunking and began to walk calmly over to where the Chevalier and Erin now battled.
“Morien!” Julia dashed over to her friend and clutched his hand in hers. “Morien stay with me! Please. I… please!”
All of Julia’s fury and anger was now forgotten as she clutched Morien’s cold and lifeless palm. Morien couldn’t die, he simply couldn’t! Please, Julia begged Yehovah, don’t take him away from me too! Please don’t take this stupid, silly boy! I love him! I love him Yehovah!
And as soon as the thought had formed, Julia realized it was true. Oh great Yehovah! Julia began to melt inside as she realized that she had fallen truly and deeply, madly and irrevocably in love with Morien.
I love you, Morien, she thought. I love how you always do the right thing, even when it only brings you grief. I love how you’re brave, even if you don’t always see it. I love how you never give up, no matter what the odds are. I love how you give all of yourself to everything you do. I love how passionate you become, when your eyes light up and you start to go on about those stories of yours. I stopped believing in those tales a long time ago. I had to put them away with other childhood fancies, the day I was forced to grow up. But when I’m with you, I feel like a little girl again. I can believe again. I can dream again. I want to stay with you, Morien, to stand by you just as you stand by me, by everyone you care about. Because in the end, the thing I love most about you is that you are always there for me. You are my rock. No matter how hard or messy things get, you stand tall and firm, and you give me hope. Oh Morien, I love you with all my heart! So please, please don’t die! I’m begging you, please don’t die!
“Someone!” Julia sobbed. “Please! I need help!”
And then the frogs were there, their magic working on Morien. To heal Grenn, much energy had already been spent, but even with what little the frogmen had left, they gladly gave it for Morien. At first it seemed to do no good, but soon, what little life remained in Morien began to bubble back to the surface. The beating of his heart and breathing of his lungs became stable once again, even if they remained only feeble and faint. And as she felt the life return to Morien, Julia laughed tears of joy.
Meanwhile, Erin and the Chevalier continued in their battle. Though their blows were now pitiful shadows of their former glory, both refused to give the other any quarter. Erin’s head swam and her body cried out for sustenance, but so long as the Chevalier stood, she would not give in. Esmeralda should have made enough distance by now to escape the dark knight. But even if the Chevalier were to drop dead, Erin knew she didn’t have enough power to heal Morien. He was as good as dead.
Pardon me, Yann tapped the Chevalier on the shoulder. And as the dark knight turned in confusion, the bard dunked the germ over the Chevalier’s head. Instantly the Chevalier screamed, as the germ began to squeal, and a powdery, pink cloud spewed out from its pores. Desperately the Chevalier clutched at the orb, trying his best to claw the thing away. But his struggles were in vain, and after the last of the pink cloud had dissipated, the dark knight collapsed.
“What… was that a germ?” Erin asked incredulously, to which Gorrum muttered something in comment.
“Huh?” Erin stared blankly at the frogman.
“He says it’s not a germ. It’s an antibody,” Illyria translated, as she, Hobie and Esmeralda appeared.
“And this…” Esmeralda held up the gleaming blue pearl.
“Is the Key of Sea,” Hobie glimmered.
All at once the frogmen leapt up in awe, before bowing profusely in worship of the gem. Quickly Gorrum gribbited something out for Illyria to translate.
“He says they gave the gem back to mother centuries ago, when first she became an island for the humans to settle on. They thought it was lost though.”
“I… I just found it, while I was cleaning,” Esmeralda said. “I didn’t think it was anything special.”
“But…” Erin stared blankly at Morien’s body, as the cruel, ironic situation began to sink in. “What’s the point? Morien…”
“Is still alive,” Julia whispered. “But he’s fading fast. You can’t save him, can you?”
The frogs shook their heads in solemn silence. It was beyond their abilities at that time.
“But this can,” Hobie gleamed.
“H-how?” Jourdain asked timidly.
“The Water of Life flows from this very pearl,” Hobie explained. “Just as the Key of Land can move a colossus, so too can the Key of Sea cleanse and purify the murkiest mire.”
“But… can it heal Morien?” Illyria asked.
“If his will is there, and his heart is true, then yes,” Hobie said.
“Give it!” Julia snatched the jewel from Esmeralda like a wild animal, and placed the pearl in Morien’s palm at once.
“Morien!” she cried. “Morien, you can heal yourself! You just need to concentrate! Can you do that? Can you hear me, Morien?”
“J… Ju…” Deep within the recesses of Morien’s mind, he could feel himself floating in a deep, all-encompassing océan. Nothing surrounded him, save the murky depths, and he felt, as he sank deeper and deeper down, as though he was falling gently asleep. Then he heard it. A ripple in the water, a wave of sound. It was faint, fighting through the waters, but when at last it reached him, Morien realized it was Julia, crying out his name.
Julia. Morien needed to see her again. She was waiting for him, at the surface of the water. All he had to do was swim up to her. He felt so tired, so heavy beneath the depths, but the image of Julia made him paddle his way slowly back to the surface. Soon light became visible once more, and Morien swam even faster. Julia. He could see her now, her image faint and distorted, but still visible through the océan waves. Julia! Closer and closer he came, fighting with every breath just to see that shining face again. Julia! Julia!
“Julia!” Morien gasped, as back in the waking world, his eyes began to glow a deep and perfect blue, his body began to float within the air, and from the pearl, a roaring stream of water erupted and encircled the boy. Greater and greater it grew, until those surrounding Morien began to exchange worried glances. But even as they backed away carefully, the bubble around Morien only continued to grow.
“What’s going on?” Julia asked.
“I… I don’t know,” Hobie admitted. “The Key is concentrated on healing, but it hasn’t stopped for some reason.”
“The Tarasque!” Esmeralda cried.
“She’s still sick inside!” Illyria squeaked.
“And we’re right in the middle of that sickness!” Jourdain balked.
Yann placed a firm grip on the unconscious Chevalier, while the frogs all huddled together.
“Oh sa-” Erin was unable to finish before the bubble erupted, and a tidal wave of pure, cleansing water flew through the caverns that comprised the Tarasque’s insides. There was nothing anyone could do. They were all too weak against the all-powerful breaker. The only thing they could do was allow themselves to be carried away, while before their very eyes the black taint was removed from the pinkish cavern walls.
Onwards and onwards they were carried, until at last, just before they had run out of breath, the traveling companions spewed out into the open sky, to all fall flat on their faces in the dirt. Wildly whipping their heads around, everyone saw to their utter shock and surprise that they now stood in a construction site. And as the remainder of the wave’s water rained down upon them, the sun’s first rays began their eastbound creep across the sky.
“Where…?” Julia glanced around in shock.
“We’re outside!” Hobie exclaimed.
“We’re in Aix!” Esmeralda cried.
“In the sewage construction area!” Illyria realized.
“But then…” Jourdain gibbered.
Yann checked the status of the Chevalier, while the frogs made sure they were all safe.
“I was right!” Erin laughed. “I was absolutely right!”
“Er… excuse me?” Hobie blinked.
“Oh yeah, you mentioned something about that earlier,” Illyria remembered.
“Exactly!” Erin explained. “Don’t you all get it? The sickness, it was caused by the sewers!”
“Um… how?” Jourdain asked.
“Think about it!” Erin grinned. “Remember what Roland said? Blah-blah-blah, the new sewers go straight to the river, blah-blah-blah?”
“That does sound like something he’d say,” Julia admitted.
“But the island is the Tarasque! This ground we’re standing on is nothing more than the carapace of her shell! So then…”
“So then when they dug the sewers, they dug into the Tarasque’s body!” Esmeralda exclaimed. “The sewage was seeping straight into the Tarasque’s insides!”
“Exactly!” Erin laughed. “Exactly!”
“So then… oh my,” Jourdain muttered. This would certainly take some explaining to the people in charge of the sewer project.
“But… wait!” Julia cried, and glanced around frantically. “Where’s Morien? Where did he…?”
Then she spotted him, lying on the ground, and at once she ran to his side.
“Morien!” Julia shook him. “Morien are you alright?”
“Mmnn…” Morien opened his eyes, as though he were waking from a dream. “J-Julia…”
“Morien!” Julia wrapped him in a tender embrace. “Oh Morien!”
“J-Julia!” Morien gibbered as he realized who was hugging him then. “What! You! Um! Uh!”
“Oh just shut up!” Julia laughed tears of joy. “I thought I’d lost you.”
“We all thought that,” Erin glomped her two friends at once. “Don’t ever die like that again, Morien!”
“Whoa! Erin! What are you-?”
“Heavens, aren’t we a lucky one?” Hobie chuckled as he hovered over to Morien’s side. “It’s good to see you back, lad.”
Group hug! Yann plopped himself down upon all four of his friends, much to the consternation of Morien at the bottom.
“Aiaiai!” Morien cried. “Stop it you’re crushing me!”
As his friends all obeyed his pleas, soon Morien, Julia, Erin, Hobie, and Yann all lay upon the ground, gazing up into the morning sky and laughing. They had done it! Once again, they had weathered the storm, and were safe and sound, together again. It seemed like only yesterday, when Morien had first bought that phony sword from Julia, and started the events that had brought them all together. And look at them now. Two Keys found, and a friendship worth a lifetime. Lying there, Morien felt truly happy.
Meanwhile, Illyria waddled over to the frogmen, who looked like they needed a very long vacation.
“Well boys,” Grenn sighed. “Looks like another successful adventure.”
“Oy,” Gorrum groaned. “Certainly did a number on my ulcer.”
“I’ll say,” Gerrick gribbited. “I thought I was gonna buy it back there! But it all turned out okay. Nyuk-nyuk-nyuk-nyuk!”
“You thought you was gonna buy it back there?” Grenn growled. “I was the one that got stabbed!”
“So what?” Gerrick sniffed. “You want a free lunch or something?”
“Why I oughta!” Grenn prepared to smack Gerrick upside the head.
“Leave him alone,” Gorrum sighed.
“Woob-woob-woob!” Gerrick slipped away.
“Er… excuse me?” Illyria interjected.
“Uh… yes?” Grenn asked as he held Gerrick in a chokehold.
“I was just wondering,” Illyria glanced down at herself. “If it’s not too much trouble, could you maybe turn me back again?”
“Certainly!” Gerrick croaked. “If my kindly associate will only let me go I’ll-”
“You’re not going anywhere, y’imbecile!” Grenn growled.
“I’ll help you out,” Gorrum smiled, before chanting a quick spell and collapsing. “Whew! That just about cleaned me out.”
“Thank you!” Illyria kissed Gorrum on the cheek, just before she was transformed back to her original, human self.
“Aw shucks,” Gorrum chuckled.
“Hey! Why don’t I get a kiss?” Gerrick squeaked.
“Ah shaddup!” Grenn dragged his protesting friend back towards the hole. “Let’s head on back to mother.”
“Good-bye, and thank you!” Illyria waved kindly at the frogmen as they hopped back to where they’d come from. Gosh, she thought to herself. What a fun adventure that had been.
Meanwhile, Prince Jourdain remained the only unhappy member of the whole affair.
“What’s wrong?” Esmeralda placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.
Jourdain glanced down at his hands, still trembling in fright. “I failed you. You and Morien both. Everyone was right. I am a coward.”
When the heroes returned triumphantly, the Carolingian court was all in an uproar. Soon Morien and his companions were bombarded by questions on all sides from the curious lords and ladies. Everyone wanted to know all the juicy secrets of whatever exciting adventure had occurred. To all these questions, Morien could only stammer and stutter in response. Julia placed herself between him and the nobles, assuring them all that Morien was very tired and needed some rest. Erin, meanwhile, was more than happy to hog the spotlight, and regale her audience with two-fisted tales of daring derring-do. Yann mysteriously disappeared as soon as the gallants and noblewomen descended. Hobie dealt with questions from the clergy. Illyria and Esmeralda were whisked away to the slave quarters, where their fellow workers would take care of them. Prince Jourdain was greeted with a passionate embrace from Princess Rosa, which prompted a massive applause from the audience, although he himself could not mask his melancholy. And the Chevalier Ténèbre was taken to the best healing mages of the court.
It was there that Morien at last stumbled to, after he finally managed to escape from the crowd. Morien may have been the victim of the Chevalier’s sword, but the young man bore no grudge, and indeed was deeply worried over the dark knight’s condition.
“How is he?” he asked the leading healer.
“He’ll be alright,” the healer grunted. “It seems he was under the effects of some pink powder. It’s just a hunch, but it might be the same pink powder we found with the king.”
“The king?” Morien wondered, before deciding to leave that conversation for another time. He was exhausted, and after he checked on the Chevalier’s status, he was going straight to bed. But as he glanced at the dark knight’s sleeping face, now unmasked and peaceful, suddenly Morien staggered away in shock.
“Whoa there,” the healer steadied the boy. “You alright?”
“It… it’s him…” Morien whispered.
“Did you hear?”
“Hear what?”
“Queen Antoinette’s in a fury! She says someone was snooping in her room earlier this morning, and they took something valuable from her in secret!”
“Well what was it? Some jewelry, a painting, what?”
“That’s the thing, she won’t say! It’s obviously something very valuable to her, but she won’t say what it is!”
“Then how is anyone supposed to help her find it?”
“That’s certainly a question. In the meantime, we’ll have to deal with another one of her bad moods.”
Queen Isabela heard the gossiping slaves as she made her way down the corridors back to her room, but paid them little mind. What was it to her if that horrid queen lost some silly bauble?
As she opened the door and entered her chambers, Isabela suddenly shrieked in fright. There, on her windowsill, was the mysterious bard! Yann, that had been his name, hadn’t it? And there he was, now sitting on her windowsill, with a snuff-box in one hand, and a letter in another.
“What? What are you doing here?” Isabela gasped, as she calmed her nerves. “You gave me such a fright.”
Yann bowed in apology, and presented the queen with the letter. With curiosity, Isabela took it, and began to read. As soon as she saw the handwriting though, her eyes widened, and her heart skipped a beat.
“No…” she whispered. “It can’t be…”
And at once she fled her room like a woman possessed, the letter still firmly in her grasp. Yann smiled serenely after she had left. One down, one to go.
“So what do you plan to do now that it’s all over, Illyria?” Esmeralda asked as the girls sat in the kitchen with the other slaves.
“I don’t know,” Illyria shrugged. “I mean, nothing’s really changed, has it?”
“Hello girls.”
Suddenly the staff all stood at attention, for none other than Queen Antoinette had entered the kitchen. Although she had had a good night’s sleep, her features looked even more haggard and worn than any of the adventurers’.
“You!” she snapped at Esmeralda. “Come here.”
“Yes milady,” Esmeralda complied quietly. There was no point in disobeying.
“I was wondering,” Antoinette pulled a carving knife off the wall rack. “Just how sharp is our cutlery? I feel that by now it must have dulled somewhat. I shall need something to test it out on.”
“M-milady?” Esmeralda shuddered. Surely she couldn’t be suggesting…?
“You stupid girl,” Antoinette hissed. “Things could have gone so well if it hadn’t been for you. I should have done this a long time ago.”
“WITCH!”
Antoinette staggered as Isabela’s strike sent her reeling. What had happened? Where had she come from?
“MONSTER!” Isabela howled as she struck the queen again and again and again.
“Y-your majesty!” Illyria cried. No-one in the kitchen would have missed Antoinette, but the unbridled savagery with which Isabela attacked the Carolingian queen was frightening.
“YOU! You! You…” Isabela burst into tears, leaving everyone confused and amazed.
“Y-your majesty…” Esmeralda tentatively approached the Antilian queen. “Are you alright?”
And as soon as Isabela saw Esmeralda, she knew that the contents of the letter were true, and she collapsed into sobs at her daughter’s feet.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Oh my child, I’m so sorry.”
The apologies, and the tears, simply would not stop.
Once upon a time, there was a baby. For whatever reason, she was left in front of a church, to be taken in and raised by the monk who lived there. On that same day, a group of Carolingian slavers passed by the church, carrying their recently-purchased thralls from the White Sea markets. The lead slaver soon found the baby, and being unable to read the letter himself, asked the monk for the meaning of its contents. The monk, a shrewd and crafty fellow, saw an opportunity to line his coffers with valuable gold. And so he said that the baby was to be sold, for a reasonable price, of course. The slaver, not seeing any reason to pass up the offer, complied, and soon the baby lay with the other slaves at the royal market in Aix. Here the slavers hawked their wares to the finest nobles in the land, and here the queen of Carolina noticed the baby, up for sale.
At first, the child seemed a mere curiosity to her. But when the slaver showed her the letter, the queen saw how a remarkable opportunity now stood before her. She was a clever woman. A shrewd and intelligent one, though bitterness had warped her mind into a weapon of cruelty. In this baby, and the letter she carried, the queen saw a perfect tool, to use against Antile, should the need ever arise. She purchased the baby at once, and kept the secret letter hidden, in case there was a need to use it again. Soon the baby grew into a fine young woman, ignorant of her noble heritage, and very much in love. And that was something for which the queen had not planned.
“And Louis, father…” Jourdain asked within the dungeon walls. “Why did you kill them?”
Antoinette, now no longer even queen, sighed as she sat in her chains. “Louis found out the truth. He found the letter, and threatened to tell. He was always a strong-headed one. I would have needed to get rid of him sooner or later. Your father… you should know as well as me why he deserved to die.”
Jourdain stared in silence at his mother. Here was the woman who had raised him, whom he had loved and cherished all his life, unmasked in all her wretched glory.
“I love you, mother,” he said at last.
At those words, Antoinette turned sulkily away.
“That makes one of us then.”
“But how did you figure it all out?” Morien asked Yann as they sat at the banquet table.
In response, Yann merely pointed at his eyes, which glowed a golden hue.
“I get it!” Heroix grinned from the other side of Yann. “Now that you mention it, Princess Rosa and Esmer-”
“Queen Esmeralda!” Gigantix corrected his friend.
“Oh yes, sorry,” Heroix laughed. “Yes, but they do have the same eyes, don’t they? It’s ironic, apart from that, they look nothing alike.”
“I guess not,” Morien muttered, as he glanced over to where King Jourdain and Queen Esmeralda sat. Once Esmeralda’s royal lineage had been revealed, a rearrangement of the wedding plans had been made at once. After all, one Antilian princess was as good as another in terms of royal mergers, and the people would be far more accepting of a queen who spoke the native tongue and knew the local customs. Of course, on that matter, Esmeralda’s marriage to Jourdain would serve an even greater purpose. As soon as word had reached the gossiping nobles that a member of the Antilian royal family had been enslaved, and right in the Carolingian royal court for that matter, rumors and speculation had spread like wildfire. How many other nobles, how many other royal families, had been secretly made slaves in Carolina? It was vital now, in order to save face with Carolina’s neighbors, that the crown free all its slaves. Even though the dukes continued to squabble and bicker, all of them were now behind slavery’s abolition. In the end, Morien supposed, King Jourdain had gotten everything he’d wanted. So why did he look so wretched and forlorn, sitting there in his king’s banquet seat?
“Hey, cheer up Morien! Why the long face?” Heroix asked.
“Yeah. After all, this banquet is being held in your honor,” Gigantix grinned.
It was true. Technically it was being held in Jourdain’s honor. But once it had come to light how Morien and his friends had defeated the possessed Chevalier Ténèbre, while Jourdain had done little more than cower and hide, the court had turned on their prince at once. Even now, Morien could hear fiendish taunts and jabbing sneers directed discreetly at the king. No-one really respected him anymore, they just put on a show for the sake of decorum. But Morien, Morien would go down in history alongside his companions as one of the bravest and greatest heroes Carolina had ever known. Songs and poems would be written about him, stories of his deeds would be told for generations to come, and he would sit beside his idols in the halls of legend. It was everything Morien could have ever wanted and more. It was all he could have ever dreamed of. So why did he feel just as miserable as Jourdain, sitting there and hearing the crowds whisper his name in awe?
Maybe Jourdain had faltered, when the time had come to face the Chevalier. But was that really so wrong? Morien knew he had stood up to the dark knight, but only barely, and only with the courage he had gained on his journey. Had Morien stood against the Chevalier on the day he’d first met Julia, the young man hardly knew if he wouldn’t have done just as Jourdain had. In the end, Jourdain was a lot like him, wasn’t he? Filled with dreams and desires, but no knowledge of how to make them reality.
Maybe then, Morien thought, Jourdain needed the same thing he had needed. Maybe all it would take to give the king courage was someone to believe in him. And as Morien thought about it more and more, he began to realize what he had to do.
“Yann…” Morien glanced at his friend, but soon saw that no words were needed. The bard already knew what Morien planned, and with a finger to his lips, Yann passed Morien a goblet supposedly filled with ale.
“Th-thank you,” Morien gulped the drink down, and the bard refilled the glass again. And again. And again. And again. The lords and ladies of the court began to whisper in wonder and glance worriedly Morien’s way, as they saw what appeared to be a boy drinking far more than he ought to. Soon the whole court had their eyes on Morien, albeit discreetly, and it was then that the boy took action.
“Man, what a bunch of morons,” Morien laughed drunkenly at Yann. “To think, they all swallowed it, hook, line, and sinker.”
Of course, Yann smiled as he poured another glass. You are a master of deception.
“Morien, what are you talking about?” Heroix glanced quizzically at the boy. “Er… and haven’t you had enough?”
“Enough? Enough? Ha!” Morien belched. “I’m just getting started! I mean, if you Carolingians are this easy to fool, soon I’ll be the king!”
Hushed whispers were murmured all around, and the gossip of the court soon turned its attention on Morien.
“Sherioushly!” Morien did his best to slur his speech. “If that idiot prinshe ish jusht gonna lemme shlide in an’ take all the credit, well then shurely… SHURELY he’ll let me take hish crown! He’sh shuch a pushover! Hahaha!”
“Are… you alright, Morien?” Gigantix asked worriedly.
From across the room, Morien could see Erin and Julia looking at him, fear and confusion etched in their faces. What was he doing? What was he saying?
“Alright? Alright? HA!” Morien staggered up, causing several plates to fall to the floor. “I’ve never been better! Mershiful Ar-Rahman, I can’t believe it wash thish eashy! All I had to do wash wait for the prinshe to beat that Chevalier… and then BAM! I shtep in, and take all the credit! And theshe shtupid fatcatsh, they ate it up. They ate it all up and that shtupid prinshe wash too shtupid to even protesht! Hahaha! Hahahahaha! Hahahahaha! MORE ALE!”
Of course, Yann smiled as he poured another glass. Such effort deserves reward.
“That’s not true Morien!” Erin cried. “You know that’s not true!”
“You beat that Chevalier fair and square!” Julia protested.
“Aw, shaddup!” Morien laughed. “You were in on it too! You even lied about the frogmen, and now theshe idiots are gonna shpend daysh… DAYSH on wild gooshe chashesh for thoshe shtupid imaginary fairiesh. Haha, I can’t wait to shee their shtupid fashes when they can’t find the frogsh that aren’t really there! Bufanoid? More like Buffoonoid! Hahaha!”
A marvelous display of punmanship, Yann applauded.
“But… but you…” Erin stammered.
“You idiot!” Julia cried, and for a moment Morien wondered if he had gone too far. Would Julia put a stop to things, just as he was getting started? Morien began to worry. But then, as Julia took a swig of her wine, Morien saw that she had caught on.
“I had this all planned out!” Julia moaned. “We show up, cause a bit of mayhem, pretend to solve it, and then profit! But nooo! You had to go and start blabbing about, like a sarding little kid on sweets! Honestly, this is worse than Brittany!”
That’s right, the crowd murmured. Julia was persona non grata there. But for what reason? It was a mystery, but the best gossip fed ravenously on mystery.
“But… wait!” Erin cried in desperation. “Hobie! That’s right, we’ve got an Angelic Sphere to back us up! Hobie, where are you?”
“Shocked, shocked I am at your deception,” Hobie dimmed dourly. “Isn’t that right, Joan?”
“Indeed, Hobie,” Joan bowed her head in shame, but not before sending a secret wink Morien’s way.
“What a bunch of lowlifes,” Eva commented.
“Yes, well,” Roland sniffed. “They are all common, after all.”
“I should have known, if Yann was involved in all this,” Gastronomix growled.
“What can I say?” Morgan sighed. “Julia Ventura is a thief and a harlot, no two ways about it.”
“Goodness me! To think we trusted such villains!” Isabela silently nudged Rosa beneath the table where they sat.
“Oh! Um, uh… th-that’s right! I’ve been diseased! I mean deceived!” Rosa squeaked in a manner entirely unconvincing.
“You… you all…” Erin whimpered.
“For heaven’s sake!” Esmeralda rose to her feet.
“E-Esmeralda!” Jourdain cried. “What are you doing?”
“Oh Jourdain!” Esmeralda cried. “If you won’t tell the truth, I will! Your pride isn’t worth your name being dragged in the mud!”
“Yeah!” Morien howled. “Go on then, tell ’em! But theshe shtupid fatcatsh, they’ll probably be too shtupid to believe you!”
“Shut up!” Esmeralda’s emerald eyes thanked Morien from across the room. “Oh Jourdain, why did you let him take all the credit?”
“I… I…” Jourdain stared blankly at Morien, his face clouded in confusion. Why? Why are you doing this? He seemed to ask from across the room.
Please, Jourdain, Morien thought as hard as he could, hoping beyond hope that his thoughts might shine across the hall like a beacon. Please be brave. Take this chance. Show the world what you’re made of. Be a good king, a great king. The king who abolished slavery! The king who made Carolina the best it ever was! The king who would live forever in stories and myths and legends! Please, Jourdain, please.
“I…” Jourdain stood up at last, and his voice echoed across the room. “I thought, my love, that if you were safe, it did not matter who people thought had saved you. I could live with my name being tarnished, so long as you were allowed to share that name with me. But now I see what a fool I have been, what a coward I have been. To allow this deception to go on any further, why I might as well be the coward you all say I am. But it’s time to put this farce to rest. No, there are no frogmen. That was a lie. And the Chevalier, yet another trick for these charlatans to win your good graces. Perhaps if these villains had kept their ruse a secret, I might have allowed it to go on. But now, Morien, Yann, Erin, and Julia Ventura! I henceforth declare you all persona non grata in all the lands of the Carolingian Empire. Tomorrow morning, you shall be banished from Aix, and from all the lands under my domain. As I have decreed it, so it shall be!”
At once the court erupted in a frenzied cheer, as boos and hisses were lobbed at the drunken blackamoor who dared to pretend at heroism. Gigantix and Heroix backed away from Morien, unable to believe their ears. The dukes let loose the secret stories of the questers’ misdeeds. The Antilian royal family was consoled for having bought into the foreigners’ lies. And from the king’s seat, Jourdain cast one final glance at Morien, before bringing order to the court once again.
Thank you, Jourdain’s eyes glistened. Thank you, Morien.
The Librarian yawned as he placed his spectacles on and glanced at the clock. What time was it? Far too late at night for anyone to be knocking at the library doors. And yet the Librarian could hear a steady hammering at his entrance, not letting up for a moment. Well, the Librarian thought as he popped on over, he might as well see what they wanted. To the Librarian’s surprise, as he opened the door he saw none other than Morien standing there, a look of relief on his face.
“Thank goodness,” Morien grinned. “I thought you might be closed.”
“Not at all. What brings you here?” the Librarian smiled, unaware of the events that had transpired not an hour ago. The Librarian never attended fancy banquets. He far preferred the company of his books.
“Well, I’m looking for a book. Two books, actually.”
“Really? Do these books have a specific name?”
“Well…” Morien grinned sheepishly. “One of them does, but the other… I was hoping you could help me with that.”
“I see,” the Librarian said. “Well then, let’s see what can be done.”
From within her barracks, Illyria found sleep elusive. What was she to do with her life now? Esmeralda was queen, and even if Illyria would no longer be a slave, it wasn’t as though she knew how to do anything besides clean dishes. Maybe she should have returned to the Tarasque with Gerrick, Gorrum, and Grenn. Being a frog was certainly better than being a slave, or even a servant. But how was she to find the frogs again? Had she lost the only chance she’d had of being with them?
Suddenly there was a knock at the barracks door. Grumpily, grudgingly, the other kitchen girls grumbled and groaned, until at last one of them opened the door, and saw Morien standing there, a book in his hands.
“Hello. Sorry, is Illyria here?” Morien asked.
Illyria blushed as the other girls cooed and hooted teasingly. Quickly she dashed outside and shut the door behind her.
“Uh, sorry. I know this is early and everything, but um… here,” Morien handed the book to Illyria.
“Um…” Illyria bowed her head. “I’m sorry. I can’t accept this.”
“No, please! The Librarian said I could give it to you!” Morien insisted.
“N-no. I mean… I don’t know how to read,” Illyria admitted.
“You… you don’t?” Morien blinked in surprise.
“No. Sorry.”
There was a moment’s pause, before Morien at last sat down and opened the book.
“Alright then. I guess I’ll just have to read it to you.”
“Wh-what?” Illyria stammered.
“This is the story of Juraj Jánošík, the greatest hero in all Slavonia,” Morien began. “How he robbed from the rich, and gave to the poor. How he fought proudly and boldly against the wicked Aeneans. How, even in death, his legacy lives on in the city of Zenda, and the hearts and minds of every noble Slavonian. For his is a name every Slavonian should be proud to know, his is the blood every Slavonian should be proud to share, his is the story whose life gives Slavonia life. This is his story, and it begins as such…”
When the Chevalier awoke from his slumber, he found none other than the Librarian sitting by his bedside.
“Ah, good,” the Librarian smiled. “You’re awake.”
“How… what…?” the Chevalier moaned. Every inch of him ached.
“Yes, I’m afraid that pinkish poison did quite the number on you. You’ll be fine, don’t worry. But in the meantime,” the Librarian placed a book in the Chevalier’s lap. “This is for you. Some reading while you rest.”
“This…” the Chevalier opened the book, and found a letter inside. Curious, the Chevalier picked the letter up and glanced at the Librarian.
“From the boy. The one who left this for you. He’d have given it to you himself, but he had to leave.”
The boy? The Chevalier opened the letter and read its contents.
Happy reading, Mr. Kai-Leo-Stroh. I hope we meet again. Until then.
-Morien
Morien? That had been the name of the Mandenka boy that had come here, hadn’t it? And Kai-Leo-Stroh. That name… he knew that name from somewhere. Wait! The book! What was the name of the book that lay before him? Frantically the Chevalier turned the pages, until at last he saw, written in a graceful script, The Twelve Valiants, staring back at him.
“No,” the Chevalier grinned. It couldn’t be.
“I still don’t know why you did it,” Erin said from within the wagon.
“I just… I just figured it was the right thing to do,” Morien said from his shotgun seat.
“Well… if you say so,” Erin sighed.
“Cheer up, Erin,” Hobie glowed from within Yann’s tunic. “Now we have two of the three Keys. And we’re already on our way to the third.”
Yes, Yann unbuttoned his tunic to let Hobie free. Now that they were outside the city limits, there was no need to keep Hobie hidden anymore.
“I’m sorry for dragging you all into this,” Morien said.
“Hey, don’t sweat it,” Julia gently elbowed him from her driver’s seat. “I’ve been kicked out of better kingdoms than this.”
“Haha, thanks,” Morien laughed, before becoming somber once more. “Um, Julia. Listen.”
“Y-yes?” Julia was momentarily caught off-guard by Morien’s earnest gaze.
“I’m sorry about… well, anything stupid I said about slavery,” Morien said. “I know I’m still a naïve kid, and there’s still a lot about the world that I don’t understand, but I… I’m sorry.”
Julia sighed, before she cast a gentle smile back at him. “It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean any harm. But just… actually, I guess we both sometimes ought to listen more and talk less.”
“Thank you. Sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
The two friends sat together, by all appearances content in their silence.
Deep down inside, Morien had so many things he wanted to say. He still remembered almost dying, almost leaving before he’d had a chance to tell Julia how he really felt. I love you Julia, I really do, his heart wanted to shout. But even if he defeated a hundred Chevaliers, Morien knew he would still be just a kid to Julia. It was better this way, as friends. Wasn’t it? Morien clutched his saphie tightly to his chest.
Deep down inside, Julia also had so many things she wanted to say. She still remembered Morien almost dying, almost losing the person she loved most in all the world. That moment, that single moment as she clutched Morien’s hand, and pleaded with him to come back to her, Julia realized she had never been so much in love, so enraptured, so… vulnerable. Since the day of her parents’ death, Julia had worked tirelessly to remain in control. With every trick, every scheme, every stratagem and ruse she’d had at her disposal, Julia had taken her freedom, and had retained control of her own destiny. And then for one single, blessed moment, Julia had lost that control. For one single, beautiful moment, Julia had thought of nothing else but that she loved Morien and could not bear to lose him. For one single, pathetic moment, Julia had been vulnerable, and that vulnerability terrified her. She knew then, if she were to speak aloud the feelings that now filled her heart, Morien would have no choice but to submit. Years of practice had made Julia a mistress at manipulating men’s desires. With the barest of ease, Julia knew she could reduce Morien to a drooling little puppy, the perfect pet for her to control. And her fear of being vulnerable would drive her to do just that. She would be too afraid of losing control to do otherwise. But Morien did not deserve that. He deserved better, better than she would give him. And so, for his sake, Julia knew she must remain silent, and never act upon these feelings. It was better this way, as friends. Wasn’t it?
The two friends sat together, by all appearances content in their silence.
“Something the matter, sir?” Usuff asked Captain Cazador as the rest of the crew prepared to set sail.
“I can’t accept it,” Cazador replied after a while. “This marriage, it’s a farce.”
“Well captain I’m sorry if I haven’t been the best wife to you, but I’ve certainly given it the old college try.”
“Not you!” Cazador hissed. “King Jourdain!”
“But… I don’t understand,” Usuff said. “Queen Esmeralda is a free woman now. More than that, she’s royalty. She has every right to choose who she wants to be with, and in the end, she chose our king.”
“You think being given freedom erases all the years she lived as a slave? All the conditioning she had to go through?”
“King Jourdain says that he loves her, and she says that she loves him,” Usuff shrugged. “That’s enough for me.”
“Love?” Cazador howled. “How can anyone love that which they enslave? Can you love the horse that pulls your plow? The livestock you consume? The tools you dispose of when their use has worn out?”
“No,” Usuff replied. “But my father could love my mother, even if she was purchased in the markets of Argire.”
“You…” Cazador stammered. “You never told me that.”
“How else does the Basha get his harem?” Usuff smiled. “I won’t pretend every woman purchased ends up with a happy life. I’m well aware that they don’t. But the love my parents shared was genuine. I know it for a fact. And if love could spring from them, I see no reason to doubt it could spring from our king and queen.”
It was a while before the captain spoke again.
“I wish I could believe that,” he whispered at last. “I truly do.”
“It’s alright captain,” Usuff patted his friend on the shoulder. “You’re right. Every wound takes time to heal.”
“Uh… h-hey!” a voice called from the docks. Usuff and Cazador glanced down, and saw Illyria standing there, a knapsack filled to the brim upon her.
“Illyria!” Usuff said. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m sorry!” Illyria squeaked. “I was just wondering… if it’s not too much trouble, would you mind at all giving me a lift? You don’t have to take me all the way there, just a little bit, and then I can maybe find someone else to take me, but I’d really like to-”
“Alright, alright, calm down,” Usuff laughed. “We’re more than happy to give you a lift.”
“We are?” Cazador muttered, before a kick to his shins made him understand. “Ah… yes. Certainly, madam. We’d be more than happy to take you with us.”
“So where is it you want to go?” Usuff asked.
With an adventurous gleam in her eye, and a brave smile beaming from her lips, Illyria replied.
“Zenda!”