Mercy and Monsters - Chapter 11
Mercy and Monsters - Chapter 11
Morien stared at Julia, and saw a little boy, waiting for his father to come home. “I believe,” Morien said. “No. I know. I know you’ll find him someday.”
“The life of man is not the life of Yag, nor is human death the death of Yag. Let me be free of this cage of broken blind flesh, and I will once more be Yogah of Yag, morning-crowned and shining, with wings to fly, and feet to dance, and eyes to see, and hands to break."
-The Tower of the Elephant
Once upon a time, there were two young boys; one a human, the other a jinni. Both were made outcasts by their births; one by the absence of his father, the other by the absence of power. And both were subject to daily torments by their peers. Day in and day out, both would be mocked and jeered and beaten by those who would have otherwise been their friends. And day in and day out, as these two young boys endured their tortures, they would always ask the same question, either aloud or in their minds.
“Why? Why are you doing this?”
The bullies would only ever laugh. They never gave a proper response, because they had no need to. The two boys already knew the answer.
“Because we can.”
And so, day in and day out, after the bullies had their fill of childish violence, the two boys would stumble home in search of solace. One boy would come home to a loving mother, a caring imam, and a plethora of books, within which he could hide and heal from the horrors of the outside world. The other boy had none of those things. He had no escape.
So with no other option left to him, the jinni boy turned all his anger and pain outwards, back to the bullies themselves. At first all he got for his troubles was more pain and punishment. But after centuries of fighting, the jinni boy, now a jinni man, not only could defend himself from his tormentors, but beat them back completely. Fighting became his escape.
But while fighting as a child may have been overlooked by society, as an adult it was not to be tolerated. A group of other jinn trapped the violent jinni in a magic ring, no bigger than a human thumb, where over the course of one thousand years his mind slowly unraveled and reraveled, back and forth, again and again. In his desperate state, the jinni promised to grant one wish to whoever freed him from the ring. But when that fateful liberator came, they were just another bully, as cruel and violent as those who had haunted the jinni’s childhood.
As Morien floated through a weird world of white, he felt himself suddenly compress and contort, shrinking violently and painfully, until at last he was no bigger than a thumb, and trapped inside a spherical cage. When Morien gazed outside the cage, he saw the face of the allamah, twisted in a sick, evil grin and laughing at him. It was a pitch of laughter all too familiar to him, and as Morien tried to shut his ears to the jeering cackle, he saw he had become a small child once more, crying and covered in bruises and blood. Now the face of Zakariyya joined that of the allamah, then the face of his goons, then the face of Alvarado, and then the face of every tormentor Morien could remember from his life. Their laughter threatened to split his skull open, and Morien found himself screaming and screaming and
Morien awoke in a cold sweat from within Julia’s wagon, his heart pounding in his chest and his lungs gasping for air. Looking around, he saw Quixote was sleeping peacefully, and Hobie had dimmed his light to save his strength. Only Julia, rising from her mattress concernedly, was also awake.
“Hey,” she asked. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” Morien stammered. “Just… bad dream.”
“…Alright.”
“Can… you not sleep?”
“No.”
For several minutes, the two travelers simply sat in silence, until at last Morien remembered something.
“Julia?”
“Hm?”
“How do you… you know that sea captain, right? Cazador, was his name?”
Julia’s face became hardened and dour at the mention of his name.
“Yeah. I know him.”
“How?”
It was a while before Julia spoke.
“He was in the Battle of Barbarossa. It was an island that Andalus and Antile both wanted. He fought on the Antilian side, like my brother.”
“Brother?”
“Commander Raul Ventura. Great Commander. Great guy. Died in the battle, him and everyone else. But not Cazador. His was the only ship to come back safely. Near the end of the battle, he chose to run away. Chose to leave everyone behind, including my brother. Honor and chivalry, all that stuff those kings and soldiers say is so important? It’s all a load of bull. It’s just a lie people tell themselves to think we live in a just world. What a joke.”
“I’m… sorry,” Morien mumbled. “What… what happened after that?”
“Oh, you know,” Julia said. “My town got caught in a border skirmish with the Andalusi. My parents died, I got sold into slavery. Kept hoping some knight in shining armor would come along and rescue me, but it never happened. So I ran away, became a thief, then a merchant. Used every trick and scam I could to claw my way here. And now here I am, in pursuit of some fabled giant, on the word of a crazy man.”
“I know. I’m sorry,” Morien sighed. “I know it’s stupid to believe this is anything other than a wild goose chase, but believing in it is the only thing that’s keeping me from giving up right now.”
“I know,” Julia replied. “And maybe you’re still childish enough to believe in those fairy stories of honor and chivalry. I know I used to be. But I’m not a child anymore, Morien. And I don’t think this is going to end in any way but tragedy.”
“Then why are you helping us?” Morien snapped.
Julia only glared dangerously at Morien, before rolling over in her bed away from him.
“Good night, Morien,” Julia said curtly, and Morien instantly regretted his outburst.
Unbeknownst to either Morien or Julia, Quixote lay fully awake, feeling more regret than the pair of them combined.
“Ah!” Erin awoke and whipped her head around, trying to get her bearings. She found herself lying in a hammock, evidently in the Argo crew’s quarters, with the women and children of Bastilla nearby and Yann standing awake by her side. As the bard waved a charming hello, Erin grabbed him by the collar and barraged him with a series of questions.
“What time is it? Where are we? Is everyone okay? Wait, why am I asking you?”
Yann merely shrugged in response.
“Ah, you’re awake. Good,” Usuff grinned as he entered the quarters to see Erin up and about.
“First Mate!” Erin exclaimed. “What time is it now?”
“Oh, I’d say about… noon-ish,” Usuff shrugged. “You were asleep for a while there.”
“And where are we?”
“We’re coming to a small coastal town now,” Usuff replied. “We’ll drop everyone off there and head over to King Rodrigo.”
“I see,” Erin hopped off the hammock. “And do you still have that green carpet I flew here on?”
“Uh… yeah. It’s in the Captain’s quarters. Why d’you ask?”
“I need it. We’re going back to Bastilla, as soon as I’ve gotten some food in me.”
Was she sure? Yann placed a concerned hand on Erin’s shoulder. She had expended quite a lot of energy these past few days, after all.
“Don’t worry Yann,” Erin said. “If we pack some food with us, we’ll be able to make it. The important thing is buying time for Morien and his giant.”
“Wait, you don’t seriously believe all that stuff about the giant, do you?” Usuff inquired.
“Sure, why not?” Erin shrugged. “I’ve seen stranger things. Even if it isn’t true though, those soldiers’ll have a better chance of survival with one of the Seven Spectral Sorcerers on their side.”
“You’re… you’re sure about this?”
“Positive,” Erin grinned as Yann gave a thumbs-up.
Usuff sighed. “In that case… at least wait until we’re safely ashore. We can get you some food from a butcher’s.”
“Alright!” Erin cheered. “I hope they have pork!”
“Atten-SHUN!” the sergeant called out to the troops under his command as Captain Alvarado rode up.
“These men are sloppy, Sergeant,” Alvarado hissed.
“They’ve been training all night and all day, with no food or rest, sir,” the sergeant said. “With respect I must request we take a break.”
“Nonsense!” Alvarado howled. “You think the Moors will care about how much food and sleep you’ve gotten? The only thing they respect is brute force! If you can’t give that to them, you’re worthless, do you hear me? Worthless!”
The sergeant wiped away the spittle that had been sprayed on his face, and stood his ground.
“If these men fight the Moors without proper preparation, they will be completely incapable of providing that brute force, sir.”
For a while, the two soldiers merely glared at each other, neither one giving an inch to the other, until at last, Alvarado burst out laughing.
“Alright then,” Alvarado cackled. “Take a break. For working so hard, I think your men deserve a break.”
“Thank you, sir.”
The sergeant breathed a sigh of relief as Alvarado passed him by. Then his sigh was cut short by a rapier being thrust through his lung. As the shocked sergeant turned his head around, he saw Alvarado glouring darkly back at him.
“And for disobeying my orders, I think you deserve a just punishment,” Alvarado said, and released the sergeant from his rapier’s grasp.
As the sergeant lay bleeding and gasping for air, Alvarado called out to the troops standing at the ready.
“Which one of you is next-in-command?”
The wagon ride was suffocated by silence, as it rolled along slowly across the Antilian plains. Each of the riders was lost in their own minds, each one having their heads filled with black moods and dark thoughts. As Hobie surveyed his human companions, he knew he would have to be the one to break this oppressive silence.
“Quixote,” he said at last. “I don’t think I ever properly thanked you, for agreeing to take us to this giant.”
“Oh. Er… think no- thinketh nothing of it, mine friend,” Quixote said, before returning to his dark thoughts.
Hobie sighed silently before turning to Julia.
“And Julia,” Hobie added. “I don’t think I ever properly thanked you, for agreeing to take us on this quest after Qurtana.”
“Sure,” Julia grunted, before returning to her black moods.
Hobie dimmed dourly, but refused to give up.
“And Morien,” Hobie said. “I don’t think I ever properly thanked you, for… well, doing everything you’ve done.”
“What have I done, though?” Morien sighed. “Really, what have I done, after everything that’s happened? I stumbled on you by accident, I roped you into taking me with you on your quest, I got lost in the Montalban Mountains and slowed everyone down, I was powerless to stop the riot in Qurtana, and now… you’re right, Julia. I know you’re right. This whole thing is stupid. We shouldn’t be here.”
“That’s not true, Morien,” Hobie interjected. “You’re a silly, willful child, to be sure. Had I been at full power when I first met you, I wouldn’t have given you a second glance. But you’re tougher and more resourceful than I ever imagined you could be. Being a hero isn’t simply about swinging a mighty sword or fighting fearsome monsters, you know. It’s about hope, giving it and keeping hold of it, and I’d say you’ve done just that. Look at you, you’ve come all this way and haven’t given up, even with all that you’ve faced.”
“What have I faced though?” Morien asked. “I stood up to that jinni, but apart from that, I’ve mostly just run away and hidden whenever there’s been a threat.”
“Have I been talking to a brick wall?” Hobie flared. “You knew that jinni would kill you. Knew it, deep inside of you. And you stood against him anyways, didn’t you?”
“You saved my life,” Julia muttered.
“Yes!” Hobie burned brightly. “And that life was well worth saving, Julia! You could have refused to help us at any point in this quest.”
“And I did. I never wanted any part of it.”
“But even so, something made you stay. Something far more important to you than that bard’s biceps.”
“That’s-! Uh…” Julia stammered. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re right, Julia,” Hobie said. “It is foolish to think this mission will succeed. But it was foolish to think that Arthur could pull the sword from its stone, or that Perseus could slay the gorgon Medusa, or that Holger could stave off the invasion of his newfound kingdom. And yet they all happened anyway.”
“No they didn’t!” Julia exploded. “None of those things ever really happened! They’re stories! Nothing more and nothing less!”
“They’re a space,” Morien whispered. “A space for all of us.”
“A what?” Julia furrowed her brow.
“What got you through your life as a slave?” Morien asked Julia. “You had to have held on to something, even after you gave up the idea of a knight in shining armor. What was it? What dream did you have to get you through it all?”
“Freedom! I dreamed of freedom, earned by my hands, for my benefit, to do with as I pleased!”
“And what was that which you pleased?” Morien’s questioning became more frantic. “Profit? Men and money? That can’t be all it was. There’s more to you than that Julia. There is, I know it!”
“Shut up!” Julia screamed, and curled into a small ball, sobbing. “Just shut up, okay?”
“I… I’m sorry,” Morien cursed himself for his outburst. “I’m sorry. Forget about it, okay?”
The ride continued in silence, until at last, Julia spoke again.
“I…” Julia barely whispered, as she clutched the feather that lay beside her heart. “I think he’s still alive. I think he’s still out there, somewhere, waiting for me to find him, and take him home. I know it isn’t true. I know he died that day. But I have to believe I’ll find him again. I have to.”
Morien stared at Julia, and saw a little boy, waiting for his father to come home.
“I believe,” Morien said. “No. I know. I know you’ll find him someday.”
Julia looked up at Morien, her face stained with tears, and for a moment, the two friends simply gazed at each other.
“There!” Quixote cried. “Over yonder! There lyeth the giant, sleeping in its resting place!”
And then the moment was gone, and the two friends looked to see where Quixote was pointing.
“Here,” Cazador handed Yann a massive pot of chorizo. “Best of luck in your mission.”
“And best of luck in yours, Captain,” Erin grinned as Yann nodded in agreement.
“I… I must apologize for my behavior the other day,” Cazador said. “Forgive me. I’m used to commanding hardy sailors, not young girls.”
“It’s alright,” Erin replied. “I understand.”
“Well then,” Cazador coughed. “I suppose we’d both better get going. Oh, uh…”
“Yes?” Erin asked.
“Your friend, Julia?”
“Yeah, that’s right. Do you two know each other?”
“It… it was a long time ago. But when you see her again, could you tell her something for me?”
“Sure. What is it?”
“Tell her…” Cazador struggled and stammered, trying to find the appropriate words. But finally, all he could do was sigh and shake his head.
“Never mind,” Cazador said. “It doesn’t really matter. Good luck.”
“O-okay,” Erin said, and then, with a chant and a sneeze, she and Yann were lifted off the ground by the flying carpet.
As the two travelers flew into the distance, Usuff walked over to his captain and exchanged an inquisitive glance.
“Why didn’t you give her that message, Captain? I know you had something to say.”
“Yes,” Cazador sighed. “But why should she even listen? I failed her, all those years ago.”
“There was no way we could have predicted that storm, Captain. You know that,” Usuff said.
“But still we were delayed, and still we failed to save those people. She and everyone else from that town has every right to hate us.”
“Captain…”
“Everyone!” Cazador called out to the rest of his crew. “It’s time to set out!”
“This… is the giant?” Morien asked.
“Verily!” Quixote cried.
“It’s… certainly not what I was expecting,” Hobie said.
“It’s… a… WINDMILL!” Julia howled.
And indeed it was. Before the travelers stood a windmill, of the ugliest and shabbiest variety. Indeed, were it not for the vanes turning as dutifully as they could, one would probably suspect the poor structure of being abandoned.
“Mayhaps it appears as such, but nay, wouldst thou to enter within it, thou wouldst find-”
“You led us all the way here for a stupid, sarding windmill!” Julia screeched. “Let me at him, Morien! I’ll strangle the life out of this stupid, old, crazy guy!”
“I’m sensing something,” Hobie interjected.
“What?” Julia blinked in surprise, halting her wrath for just a moment.
“I’m sensing something,” Hobie repeated. “It’s faint, but it’s definitely something.”
“R-really!? I mean, o-of course!” Quixote laughed nervously. “After all, dost thou taketh me for a liar?”
“Let’s go inside,” Morien said, and the travelers made their way towards the windmill.
The door was large enough that Quixote was able to ride in with his steed and Julia could fit Molly and her wagon inside. However, nobody could find anything about the windmill out of the ordinary, apart from the fact that it could still turn, even when the insides looked so worn and out-of-sorts.
“Nevertheless, I can sense something,” Hobie insisted. “If I can just find the source of it all…”
As the orb of light hovered across the millstone, there was a sudden clacking noise, like ancient clockwork, and the floor around the stone began to descend, until at last a circular stairway leading downward had formed.
“So… should we go in?” Morien stared into the deep, dark unknown.
Down and down the travelers descended, deeper and deeper into the darkness, with only Hobie’s constant glow to guide them. With no rails to keep them from falling and no indication of how far the spiral staircase went, Morien, Julia, and Quixote quietly clung to the pillar that had once appeared a mere millstone, as they crept towards what they hoped would be more stable ground. At last, once the staircase had ended, the group looked around to see what appeared to be a round room about twenty feet in radius. The staircase rested in the back of the room, but out near the front stood a group of seats, all positioned around a single pillar. And on the top of that pillar, there lay a single, red diamond, no bigger than Morien’s hand, which glistened with a powerful, pulsing light.
“The Key!” Morien cried, and rushed over towards the pedestal, with his fellow companions close behind.
“So… what does it do?” Julia squinted at the diamond.
“How doth it work?” Quixote asked Hobie.
“Well,” Hobie glimmered. “If Morien is worthy, he shall be able to access its power.”
“And how do I determine that?” Morien inquired.
“Simply place your hand upon it, and allow yourself to be judged.”
Morien glanced back at the diamond and gulped. That simple, was it? As simple as pulling the sword from the stone, or wooing the untamable Rhiannon, or calling upon the power of the moon in Lon’s final battle. In other words, only simple if you were worthy, if you were special. But how special was Morien really? Not special at all. Morien knew that, and for a moment, he was seized with an uncontrollable doubt. What if he couldn’t call upon the power? Everyone in Bastilla would die, the jinni would remain imprisoned, and Tar-Cruorem’s power would reawaken once again. And it would all be his fault. Was he strong enough to force out the diamond’s power? Morien did not know, and he found his hand trapped, inching further away from the diamond and closer to the safety of his saphie.
Until he remembered. The sword had not been pulled, the lady had not been wooed, and the moon had not been channeled through force. They had all been called upon by a calm and steady mind, free of fear and doubt. Calm, calm, calm, as Morien steadied his breathing and relaxed his nerves, he felt the calmness wash over him. And then, with the calm flowing through him fully, Morien placed his hand on the diamond, and allowed himself to be judged.
Instantly the diamond burst into a nova of energy, the crimson color filling the room with warmth and light. The noise of ancient clockwork, heard once before, now erupted with a fury unmatched by anything Morien had heard in his life. With a great rumbling and rending noise, the travelers felt themselves rise, and as the dust and dirt cleared from the walls around them, they revealed themselves to be not walls, but windows, resting upon the head of a monumental giant.
Morien and his fellow adventurers could not see the giant in its full glory, but had they stood outside, they would have found a grand sight indeed. Taller and more opulent than the richest king’s castle, even with the decades of dirt that had accumulated on its person. Its limbs were thicker than a hundred oak trees, its chest broader and stronger than the mightiest bastion, and the gears and cogs that turned and clanked as it moved were more intricate and advanced than any other machinery in existence. So massive and mountainous the giant was, the windmill that rested on its head seemed as tiny as a tuft of hair on a human head.
“I… I did it!” Morien gasped, feeling the power flow through him. The giant was his to command!
“Great Yehovah!” Julia cried.
“Bravo, Morien,” Hobie glistened.
“I… good… good heavens,” Quixote removed his barber’s bowl and collapsed into one of the seats. “It was true,” he whispered. “It was all true.”
“We need to hurry,” Morien said. “We’ve got less than a day to return to Bastilla.”
And with a forward sweep of his arms, Morien made the mighty monolith move, its gargantuan legs slowly creaking and clacking with the first use they had witnessed in years.
“It’s time,” Yusuf whispered sinisterly, as the Friday sun began to rise. Saying a quick prayer, the allamah cast one last glance at Bastilla, sitting there in the distance, before moving to prepare his troops.
“It’s time,” Alvarado hissed wickedly, as he stood by the battlements where his archers were perched at the ready. Soon the battle would commence, and when it did, he would be ready for the invaders.
As the sun made its way across the sky, the two commanders made their preparations, and the tension and fear that had thus far only been at the back of the soldiers’ minds now made their way to the forefront. Yusuf and Alvarado each gave their forces rousing speeches, intended to fill their hearts with bravery and battlelust. But more than anything else, it simply made the troops realize the reality that was upon them. This was it. They were really going to war.
“Soldiers! Charge!” the allamah called from his horse as he dashed towards the city, his troops following behind him on foot.
Any sane commander would have known that storming a heavily fortified military city as a first resort was a terrible strategy. Doing so on foot, when the city in question was known for its cavalry, was even worse. And having the only soldier with a horse be the commander, who quickly outpaced his soldiers and strode several yards ahead of them, was perhaps the worst strategy imaginable. Any sane commander would have known that, and even in his decidedly insane state, Alvarado soon saw the many cracks in the Andalusi armor.
“Great Yehovah!” Alvarado cackled. “Is this infidel having a jest with us?”
And with that, Alvarado signaled for his archers to loose. As a wave of arrows was let loose, several Andalusi soldiers retreated fearfully before they even hit the ground. Yusuf though, a smirk on his face, rubbed his ring and let loose the jinni.
Expanding and extending into the sky, a single bulging arm from the jinni in his full glory was enough to stop each and every arrow. As the jinni’s skin swallowed the arrows whole, Alvarado could only gawk as Yusuf cackled spitefully.
“Jinni!” Yusuf howled. “Kill them all!”
“Please master, I beg you!” the jinni cried. “I don’t want to! Don’t make me!”
“You dare defy me?” Yusuf pulled the dagger from its sheath. “You have no right! I own you! You are mine to do with as I see fit! Now kill! Kill! You know the penalty for your failure!”
“Yes… master,” the jinni whispered, tears streaming down his face. He would try to be quick about it, try to give the Bastillans a chance to run.
Before he could make his way to the city though, the jinni noticed a young woman, dressed in green from head to toe, leaping down towards him. The jinni briefly wondered where the girl had come from, before she swung her staff with all her might to plant it right on the jinni’s nose. As the force of the blow sent the jinni careening, the girl landed safely on the ground and admired her handiwork.
“Alright,” Erin smiled. “Looks like a solid hit.”
“What…?” Yusuf stared blankly at the sorceress.
“How…?” Alvarado continued to gibber.
“Hey!” a soldier said to the fellow beside him. “It’s that girl from the other day! The one with the carpet!”
“Who?” the fellow beside him furrowed his brow.
“Oh come on, don’t tell me you don’t see her?”
“Ow…” the jinni groaned as he recovered his bearings. “What did you hit me with?”
“Magic!” Erin grinned. “Now, from the looks of you, you’re blue. That’s one shade below green. But! Fun fact!”
Erin leapt towards the jinni, grabbed him by his ponytail, and began to spin him round and round, faster and faster, as her eyes glowed with magical mana.
“Light as we know it is nothing more than a series of energy waves! And like any other wave, it can undergo a doppler shift, should its source be moving fast enough!”
“I don’t understand what you’re saying!” the jinni cried as he tried to contain his spin-induced nausea. The more and more he spun, the farther and farther he stretched like putty away from the sorceress.
“Violet becomes indigo! Indigo becomes blue! And blue… becomes green!” Erin laughed.
“Or… I can just do this,” the jinni transformed into a mirror image of Erin, and swung his staff towards her head. Reflexively, Erin raised her staff to shield herself, and with a clang, the jinni leapt away from Erin and backflipped to a more advantageous position. As the two Erins faced each other, staffs at the ready, the real Erin scratched her head bemusedly.
“Oh yeah,” she chuckled. “They said you could do that.”
“Is this green enough for you?” the jinni asked sarcastically.
“As a matter of fact…” Erin grinned.
“Hey,” Julia asked Hobie. “Can’t this thing go any faster?”
“I’m afraid not,” Hobie sighed. “This giant is old. It hasn’t been used in decades, perhaps centuries. It’s understandable that it might be a bit slow.”
“A bit slow?” Julia griped. “We’d have already reached Bastilla by now if we’d taken the wagon.”
“I shouldn’t have slept,” Morien muttered. “Should have just kept going.”
“If you had done that, Morien,” Hobie sighed. “You would have been weak as a kitten by the time we’d reached Bastilla. Look at how hungry you already are.”
“Second breakfast! Second breakfast!” Quixote rushed down the stairs with a bountiful feast in his hands, and set the food beside Morien, before taking away the massive tray that had once held first breakfast.
“Seriously, Morien, you’re already eating me out of house and home,” Julia sighed. “If you hadn’t slept, the magic would have drained you completely by now.”
“Which remindeth me,” Quixote spoke. “What, perchance, droveth thou, Morien, to joineth us on this quest?”
“Are you still talking like that?” Hobie sighed.
“Fow d’y’mean?” Morien asked with a mouth full of bread.
“Well, even if this giant contained the Key of Land,” Quixote continued. “Thou wouldst surely have found the cause of evacuation more noble than claiming the Key for thyself, wouldst thou not?”
“That’s right,” Morien,” Julia added. “You needed Quixote to guide us here, me to drive us here, and Hobie to check if this place was what we thought it was. But you didn’t need you here. Any of us could have piloted this thing. But still you insisted. How come?”
“I…” Morien clutched his saphie. “L-look! There, out in the distance! Bastilla!”
And for the moment, the inquisition was forgotten, as the adventurers gazed into the distance to gauge the progress of the battle, and to see if there still remained time enough to save everyone.
“Should we keep shooting, sir?” an archer asked the astonished Alvarado.
“Uh… y-yes! Loose away, gentlemen!” Alvarado was not quite sure what to think at the scene before him. The girl fighting her mirror image looked just like the sorceress that had tormented him the other day. But what was she doing, fighting on their side now? It made no sense. But even with that particular quandary present, there still remained the infidels that needed exterminating.
As the arrows were loosed once more, Yusuf called out to the jinni. “Jinni! Quit playing your games and stop those arrows!”
“Yes… master,” the jinni sighed, before unleashing a strafe of eye-beams to destroy the arrows, as well as a quick shot at the Bastillan fortifications. The last shot was only meant to scare the archers away and deal some damage to their defenses, but of course Erin did not realize that. Thinking the jinni was aiming at the archers themselves, she leapt and tackled him, causing his face to slam into the ground, and for his beams to go wildly off-target.
“Run! Run!” Alvarado screamed as the building behind him collapsed from the damage. The archers and assorted soldiers all tried to flee from the falling structure, but could not all escape in time. With a momentous crash, the building plummeted to the ground, while the few who had managed to escape tried to discern their way through the smoke and rubble.
“You idiot!” the jinni screeched. “I wasn’t trying to kill anyone! You did this! You!”
“Wh-what?” Erin flinched for a moment, realizing what she had just done. And that moment was all the jinni needed to bludgeon Erin with his staff and send her reeling.
“Time to end this,” the jinni hissed, and made his staff turn sharp at the end, before stabbing it through Erin’s stomach. With a cry of pain, the young sorceress clutched desperately at the wooden stake which now planted her firmly in the ground. Leaning forward, the jinni lowered his lips towards Erin’s ear and whispered what appeared to the allamah as a final, sadistic taunt.
“Use your magic to heal yourself. I know you have the energy. It’ll leave you unable to do anything else, but you’ll live. Tell Morien… I’m sorry.”
“You… you don’t have to do this,” Erin choked out.
“I wish that were true. I wish it with all my heart,” the jinni said, before removing his staff, returning to his proper form, and making his way back towards Yusuf’s side.
His leg trapped and mangled by the fallen building, Esteve desperately clawed and whimpered at the rubble, trying to free himself while all around him, death and fire threatened to close in.
“I… I don’t want to die…” Esteve sobbed. “I don’t want to die! I don’t! Please Yehovah, help me!”
Just then, a figure appeared, leaping across the death and destruction before coming to rest at Esteve’s side. Tall and lithe he stood, dressed in red with a lute on his back, his golden hair and eyes sparkling in the sunlight. Esteve could only stare in awe as the figure heaved with all his might against the rubble and released the soldier’s trapped leg.
“Are… are you an angel?” Esteve whispered as the figure lifted him to his good foot and helped him hobble away.
Really now, Yann chuckled, he’d been called many things before, but surely angel was pushing it.
After setting Esteve down at the place where other injured soldiers had gathered to have their wounds tended, Yann immediately made his way back towards the smoldering rubble.
“W-wait!” Esteve called out. “Are you crazy? You’ll never make it back alive!”
But Yann paid no heed to Esteve’s words. There were other victims in need of rescue.
“Sir? Should we go down to help them yet?” a soldier rode up to al-Hazrad, who sat perched on a hilltop, overlooking the battle scene.
“And engender the ire of that mad jinni?” al-Hazrad chuckled. “No thanks. Our boys are running back fine without our help. I should have guessed that allamah would have a trick or two up his sleeve. No-one’s that idiotically confident unless they have an ace in the hole. Still, I never expected a jinni, of all things. This complicates matters.”
“Sir!” a rider charged through the soldiers’ encampment to reach al-Hazrad’s side.
“Yes, what is it?” al-Hazrad asked.
“A letter of the utmost urgency and importance, from the great and noble Caliph Karim al-Jabbar himself, sir!” the rider leapt off his mount and delivered the letter to the wazir.
“Hm?” al-Hazrad puzzled over the letter, before the completion of its reading caused his eyes to widen with bewilderment.
“Merciful Ar-Rahman!” al-Hazrad cried.
“Come back, you cowards!” Yusuf bellowed at his retreating forces. “Weakling pups! Cowardly dogs!
“Jinni!” Yusuf whipped his head towards the jinni. “Make an example of them!”
“I…” the jinni tried to quickly think of an excuse. “You ordered me to kill all the Antilian troops first, master. I can’t take two orders at once.”
“What?” Yusuf furrowed his brow. “I did no such thing!”
“You… you did so at the beginning of this battle!” the jinni attempted another pitiful excuse.
“Did I?” Yusuf muttered. “Well, it hardly matters, as you’ve done several other things since that initial order. So I’m asking you now to kill a few of those faithless whelps to bring the others back in line.”
“Uh… w-won’t that just make the others more fearful and retreat-y than before?” the jinni stammered.
“Are you questioning my orders, jinni? You know the penalty for disobedience.”
“N-no master! I j-just…”
“WAIT!” a titanic voice thundered through the sky, drawing the attention of everyone for miles around.
“What is that?” al-Hazrad gawked from his hilltop perch.
“A… a giant?” a retreating Moor turned back to witness the sight.
“Morien,” Erin whispered gladly.
From within the walls of Bastilla, Yann smiled at the sound of the familiar voice.
“Great Yehovah!” Alvarado gibbered.
“I… don’t believe it,” Yusuf gasped.
Even though it still stood several miles away, everyone could tell the clockwork colossus was more mountainous than the tallest building in Bastilla. And as it spoke, its deafening roar filled everyone’s hearts with awe.
“Jinni!” Morien cried. “I know you’re out there! So come on out! Come out and fight me! Just the two of us, one-on-one!”
“M-master? What should I…?” the jinni asked.
“That giant,” Yusuf cried. “You must destroy it at once! If you don’t, our invasion ends here!”
“O-okay…” the jinni floated towards the behemoth, until at last he was in a position to speak to it face-to-face.
“Hi jinni,” Morien smiled.
“M-Morien?” the jinni gasped as he recognized the giant’s voice.
“Yeah, it’s me.”
“What are you doing here? In that thing?”
“I…” Morien glanced at his companions. It was time to come clean at last.
“I’ll admit, I don’t know much about jinn,” Morien continued. “But I know that, if you fail to fulfill a wish you grant, it’s a fate worse than death. And a wish is sacred. Granting it forms a magical contract, too powerful to be broken, except through one and only one avenue. And I know, you said your greatest wish was to fight someone at full power, and… to die fighting.”
“Morien…” Julia slowly began to realize. “What are you…?”
“So I’ve come to kill you, jinni,” Morien said. “Before Yusuf can make you do any more horrible things. It’s the only way to get you out of the wish’s contract.”
As Morien’s companions exchanged shocked and worried glances, the jinni could only stare blankly at the giant.
“Can… can you do that?” he asked at last.
“Maybe, maybe not,” Morien extended the titan’s arms as wide as he could. “But I know that right now, I’m in control of perhaps the most powerful weapon imaginable. So come on! Let’s see what you’ve got! Hit me with your best shot! I’m sure I can take it.”
“You… you…” the jinni slowly expanded and extended, finally flexing muscles he thought had long ago atrophied, growing and growing to his full power and glory. At last, once the smokeless and scorching fire that comprised his being had flared to its zenith, the jinni stood to a size about equal to the colossus. And with a mighty cry, the jinni cranked back and slammed his fist into the giant’s chest with all his might.
Reeling and careening, the behemoth flew across the air before slamming on its backside against the ground. The ancient clockwork clicked and clacked in a frenzied fury as the giant slowly rose to its feet once more, and Morien smiled.
“Is that all you’ve got?” Morien asked. “My turn.”
And with a booming bellow, the colossus charged at the jinni and thrust its fist in his stomach, sending him flying across the plains. With a titanic tumble, the jinni fell to the ground and nursed the wound on his belly.
“That… hurt me,” the jinni whispered incredulously. Then, at the realization of what had happened, the jinni began to laugh tears of joy.
“That hurt me!” the jinni ran back to the giant and into the fray once more.
“Yes!” the jinni laughed as his kick was matched with a punch from the giant.
“Yes!” the jinni gasped as his punch was matched with a kick from the giant.
“Yes! Pain! Adrenaline! The pounding of my heart! I feel it all! I feel it all again! Even at my full power I feel it all again!” the jinni felt the rush and excitement of a good brawl fill him once again. After so many centuries, he had finally found the thing that had given his life meaning. And what was more, he had found it with the first person he might have ever called a friend.
Yusuf stared at the clash of titans before him with a mixture of horror and awe. It had been a long time since he had last felt fear. The jinni’s protection had always allowed him a smug degree of safety. But now, as he saw the jinni struggling, even at the height of his power, Yusuf was suddenly seized with the vision of a world without his jinni. A world where all his enemies were free to move upon him, with him powerless to stop them. A world where the great revolution he had dreamed of would never come to pass. A world where history would not only forget the nameless allamah, but make every attempt to erase his presence from its records. Such a world scarcely bore imagining to Yusuf. Its mere suggestion filled him with immeasurable dread.
“C-clean it all…” Yusuf stuttered. “It… it must be cleaned! It must!”
But now Yusuf was faced with the very real possibility that it would not. The world would continue to mix and cross-contaminate, and he was powerless to stop it. He could not allow that to happen!
“There! There he is! Kill the wicked infidel!”
As Yusuf at last came out of his stupor, he saw Alvarado and his cavalry charging out of the city, their eyes filled with rage and their swords ready to cut him to ribbons. Fearfully, Yusuf fled, instinctively running towards the jinni that had protected him for so long. The Antilian soldiers would never dare touch him, safely nestled between the two warring behemoths. No-one could possibly be that mad.
No-one, that is, save Captain Alfonso de Alvarado, who continued his hell-bent pursuit of the allamah after the other cavalrymen had long since turned back. As Yusuf turned to look behind him, the flame-red hair, maddened eyes, and foaming mouth of the captain appeared to be the face of the devil himself, come to drag the allamah to Hell.
“S-stay back! Stay back, I say!” Yusuf screamed, and tossed his dagger at the captain, his fearful, fumbling fingers forgetting to even unsheathe the blade. As the scabbarded dagger bounced across Alvarado’s horse though, it was enough at least to tip the already frightened beast over the edge. With a pitiful whinny, the horse bucked Alvarado off and fled for shelter, leaving the captain to curse and rave as he lay in the dust.
“Get… get back here!” Alvarado coughed and moaned. “Clean… it all! It must… it must be cleaned!”
As he sat up, one of the giant’s feet slammed into the ground just beside him, and the colossus dug its heels into the dirt to wrestle with the jinni. To most people, coming so close to being squashed like a bug would have warranted a hasty retreat. However, Alvarado was too preoccupied with what he saw on the titan’s foot to bother with his own self-preservation. There, just on the side of the behemoth’s foot, lay a door big enough for a man to enter.
Morien clutched his chest in pain as he struggled with the jinni. It was taking every ounce of strength to keep the giant fighting. Morien was unsure of how long he could keep going.
“Morien, stop it!” Julia rushed over to his side. “If you keep at it like this, you’ll kill yourself!”
“I have to keep going,” Morien panted. “I have to kill the jinni.”
“But… art thou certain?” Quixote pleaded. “Surely there must beeth some other way!”
“No,” Morien sobbed. “No way.”
“What if we just killed Yusuf?” Julia asked. “Or, even just imprisoned him? Kept him away from the jinni forever.”
“The… terms… of the contract,” Morien gasped for air.
“Yusuf is able to call the jinni to his side, regardless of whatever mortal prisons are in place to cage him,” Hobie explained.
“Then… what about killing him?” Julia asked.
“Then the jinni would have failed to live up to the terms of the wish, thus breaking the contract and being scattered to the four winds,” Hobie dimmed dourly.
“Then… then what about the ring itself?” Quixote suggested. “We could destroy that, couldn’t we?”
“Do that, and regardless of whatever wish the jinni granted, he would still be ripped and rended apart for eternity,” Hobie whispered. “There… there is no other way.”
“There has to be!” Quixote cried.
“Will you all shut up!?!” Morien screamed as he tossed the jinni away. Slowly the jinni was disintegrating into mist, a visible sign of his mortal wounds.
“I thought and I thought and I thought and I thought of another way!” Morien slammed his fists into the jinni’s chest. “But I couldn’t find one! I just couldn’t find one! This is the only way to save him! I wish it weren’t! I wish it with all my heart! But it is.”
“Please…” the jinni gurgled.
“Please!” Quixote cried.
Morien stared down at the face of the jinni, tears streaming down his cheeks. As he saw the jinni’s pleading eyes, his sorrowful smile, his battered and broken face, the young man could not help but wonder what would have happened to the jinni if Yusuf had never found him. Would he have spent eternity trapped in that ring? Would he have been found by a kind and gentle soul, who would have treated him with decency and respect? Would he have been found by an even worse bully? A thousand different futures, a thousand possibilities, flowed through Morien’s mind as he gazed at the jinni before him. Why did it have to end like this?
“Have mercy on me,” the jinni smiled sadly.
“Have mercy on him!” Quixote begged.
“I am,” Morien whispered, and struck the final death-blow.
When it came to him at last, the jinni smiled. That final fight had been everything he could have hoped for. He had given it his all, and he had no regrets. Stumbling, his face white with fear, Yusuf stared at the source of his courage, slowly disappearing into mist.
“Get… get up jinni!” Yusuf choked out. “I command you, get up!”
“Oh, hey, master,” the jinni noticed the allamah. “Or, no, I suppose I shouldn’t call you that anymore.”
“You can’t die! I… I…” Yusuf sputtered.
“Aw, go soak your head, Yusuf,” the jinni chuckled hoarsely.
The gentle dissipation of the jinni was almost complete. His body and limbs had already floated away to mix with the wind. All that remained was his face, whose eyes exchanged one final glance with the giant, and whose lips moved one last time, to express his final words.
“Thank you, Morien. Good-bye.”
And then he was gone. His body to blend among the zephyrs and gales. His soul to be judged by the Almighty. And his self, forever free.
The ring on Yusuf’s finger cracked and disintegrated, the jinni’s wish rendered null and void. The allamah was on his own now, alone against the many enemies he had made over the years. And as the giant turned its attention fully on him, all the bravado and boldness that had propelled Yusuf to that point disappeared, and he turned away and fled.
Morien supposed he could have given chase to the allamah, perhaps hunted him down and squashed him like a bug. But he was tired. Tired from the battle, tired from the magic, and tired from the killing.
“Well? Aren’t you going after them?” a familiar sneer made Morien’s heart stop for a moment.
“Holy-?” Julia turned around in shock.
“You!” Hobie flared in fright.
“Captain Alvarado!” Quixote cried.
“The Moorish encampment is only a few miles from here! With your giant we could crush them completely!” Alvarado cackled.
“How did you get here?” Morien asked.
“I… I assumed the same way you did, through the door in the giant’s foot,” Alvarado said. “But that hardly matters! What matters now is we have a weapon powerful enough to take back the rest of Ibery! More than that, powerful enough to carve a new empire! With this giant, I can rule the world!”
“No,” Morien said.
“Wh-what?” Alvarado stammered.
“I won’t do it,” Morien went on. “I’m staying put. This giant isn’t going anywhere.”
“But… but why?” Alvarado asked. “The Moors are right there! You can see their camp just there and we could crush them!”
“We could, but I won’t, because I’m not a bully,” Morien stood fast.
Alvarado sputtered, glancing about the room, searching for someone to show him some support. But all around, he found nothing but cold, judgmental glares. Snorting and hissing, at last the captain had had enough, and he unsheathed his rapier, murder in his eyes.
“Then I shall cut you down and take this giant for myself!” Alvarado charged at the young man and thrust his sword forward. Even in his exhausted state though, Morien managed to deftly dodge the strike, and the rapier instead hit the diamond on its pedestal. As soon as it did so, a siren blared throughout the giant, and the jewel emitted a shockwave that jolted the captain into submission. Panting and wheezing, his once-impressive whiskers singed and burnt to a crisp, Alvarado tried to make another move at the diamond. But he was too weak to even stand, and he sank to his knees, ranting and raving all the while.
“What should we do with him?” Julia asked, glancing at the others.
“I… I know what to do,” Quixote sighed, as he slowly removed his barber’s bowl and wiped a tear away from his eye.
“You’re not going to kill him, are you?” Hobie inquired.
“No,” Quixote sniffed. “No, merely do… what I should have done a long time ago. Captain Alfonso de Alvarado, of the Royal Antilian Army, I, Don Alonso Quijano, Hidalgo of Bastilla and all these lands, do hereby strip you of your rank and title, and place you under arrest, to be judged by King Rodrigo I for your crimes against the Crown.”
“Wait, you’re an hidalgo?” Julia gawped.
“Yes,” Quijano sighed. “I… I should have been doing my duty, instead of… gallivanting about, trying to be some great hero. If I had done that, maybe none of this would have ever happened. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Morien.”
Morien stared blankly at the hidalgo, words failing to come to him. He opened his mouth, but could find nothing to say.
“If not for you, then we never would have found this giant,” Hobie said calmly. “Don’t sell yourself short, my friend.”
Morien tried to add something, but once again found the words simply melting in his mind. Not only that, but the room seemed to be spinning, and he began to feel quite light in the head.
“Morien? Morien!” Julia rushed over to his side as he collapsed from exhaustion. As he faded away from the waking world, her concerned face was the last thing he saw.
“Al-Hazrad! Al-Hazrad!” Yusuf burst into the wazir’s tent like a man with the devil hot on his heels.
“Hm? Ah, Yusuf,” al-Hazrad looked up from his desk and grinned. “So good of you to come. How’d the invasion go?”
“Where were your troops, al-Hazrad? The ones you promised to aid my forces with?” Yusuf slammed his hands on the desk.
“Oh, they did their job,” al-Hazrad replied nonchalantly. “We put the fear in those rioters but got them back safely. All in all, one of the more unambiguous successes of our administration, I should say.”
“That’s not what you said you would do!” Yusuf howled. “You lied to me!”
“Ah, yes, that reminds me,” al-Hazrad motioned towards the guards at the entrance. “Arrest him.”
“What? But… why?” Yusuf blanched as the guards grabbed him.
“I got a letter, straight from the caliph himself, who got it straight from the caliph in Hadadu,” al-Hazrad held up the letter and skimmed through its contents. “It says you’re wanted for several counts of high treason against the Mashreqi Caliphate, as well as several more counts of blasphemy. Seems you tried selling the same line you sold us, only it went even more poorly. Tell me, how’s that jinni who sprang you from the gallows?”
“You… you…” Yusuf sputtered. “You don’t want to do this, al-Hazrad.”
“I… think I do, Yusuf,” al-Hazrad chuckled.
“But… but… the caliph! You want to take his title, don’t you? I can help you do that. Even without my jinni, I can help you do that!”
To Yusuf’s shock and dismay, al-Hazrad merely laughed at the suggestion.
“Let me tell you a little secret, Yusuf,” al-Hazrad chuckled. “I have no intention of ever being caliph instead of the caliph. Why should I? Do you know how much trouble it is to be caliph? You’re the first to be blamed if anything goes wrong, and believe me, no matter how well you run a country, something will invariably go wrong. No no, I’m much more content being a wazir. It’s all the power with none of the responsibility! Of course, I have to keep up appearances, for the sake of my caliph, you understand. Most of the other wazirs and emirs put on the appearance of the loyal advisor, all while secretly scheming for their own selfish ends. But I’m just the opposite, and so long as I keep my wits about me, neither the caliph nor any of those other wazirs and emirs will ever find out. I’ll get to live out the rest of my life in the lap of luxury, and I’ll get to bring the real schemers like you out in the open, so that my lord can put you all down. My life is good, and I see no reason to ever change it.”
“What… are you going to do with me?” Yusuf trembled in fright.
“Me? Absolutely nothing,” al-Hazrad smiled. “It’s the caliph you should be worried about. Guards?”
And with that, the guards took Yusuf away to the tent that would become his prison, until they had brought him back to Qurtana. As the allamah’s screams and pleas rang through the air, al-Hazrad went back to the official business he had been conducting before his being so rudely interrupted.
Morien awoke to find himself on a bed, surrounded by soldiers wounded from the battle. Sitting by his side was Julia and a hovering Hobie, while on the other end of the room, Erin was busy casting healing magic on the wounded, as Yann was bringing in new patients to tend.
“Hello Morien,” Hobie said. “Are you alright?”
“Quixote…” Morien muttered. “Where…?”
“He went to cart the bad guy off to jail,” Julia said.
“And… the giant?”
“Well, as Hobie explained… how did you put it again?” Julia turned towards the floating orb.
“If an object’s size is doubled, while its surface area is multiplied fourfold, its volume is multiplied eightfold,” Hobie explained. “Therefore-”
“Right, right, therefore a structure with human-sized proportions, like our giant, couldn’t support its own weight without the aid of magic, as provided by this little thing here,” Julia pulled out the red diamond from her pocket.
“Wait, so…?” Morien was unsure of what Julia was implying.
“The giant’s gone,” Julia smiled sadly. “It collapsed as soon as we stepped outside with the diamond. Now nobody gets it, Antilian or Andalusi.”
“It will never be used for war again,” Hobie added.
“That’s… that’s good,” Morien said.
“You still haven’t answered my question,” Hobie shimmered. “Are you alright?”
“Morien!” Erin rushed over to his side, noticing he was at last awake, as Yann slowly followed from behind.
“Hey Erin,” Morien smiled. “How’d things go on your end?”
“Well, we got the women and children out safely, and I managed to distract the jinni for a while before you showed up, but… I…” Erin turned unusually somber. “I did a stupid thing, and a lot of people got hurt. That’s why I’m… I need to atone.”
Yann placed a comforting hand on the sorceress’ shoulder, as Morien began to curl up with his elbows on his knees.
“Yeah, I know the feeling,” Morien muttered.
“Everyone makes mistakes, Erin,” Julia said. “And without your magic around, these guys probably would never have made it.”
“But… I… I should have known better,” Erin began to cry. “I shouldn’t have allowed it to happen in the first place.”
“I think,” Hobie sighed. “That many of us feel the same way.”
“Yeah,” Morien mumbled. “I think we do.”
“Hey, whatcha doing?” Julia wandered into the chapel where Morien sat silently.
“Praying,” he said, his eyes closed and head bowed in meditation.
“For what?”
“Whom,” Morien corrected. “I’m praying for the jinni. Just… putting in a good word for him to Ar-Rahman.”
“Can genies go to heaven?” Julia scratched her head.
“I think so,” Morien said. “It’s a subject of debate, but…”
“Ah, one of those clerical matters then,” Julia nodded, before making her way beside Morien. “Scooch over.”
“What? Why?”
“Well, I figure, you put in a good word to Ar-Rahman, I put in a good word to Yehovah, and it’ll double the genie’s chances,” Julia clasped her hands together.
“He… he tried to kill you.”
“And you saved me,” Julia said. “Like you saved him.”
“I… it doesn’t feel that way.”
“I know,” Julia whispered.
“No, you-! Just… this isn’t the way things are supposed to go in these kinds of stories,” Morien muttered. “The knights and heroes there, I knew they always slew dragons and goblins and other monsters, but they were never anything more than…”
“Monsters?”
“Yes!” Morien cried. “Lon slew countless beasts during his adventures and never batted an eye, but I… jinn are supposed to be monsters! Tricksters and deceivers! They’re not even supposed to be human! So why… why was it so hard…?”
“To kill him? Several reasons,” Julia said. “One, you’re too mopey. You are! You’d agonize over what to eat at a restaurant.”
“Thanks Julia. Really,” Morien snorted.
“Two!” Julia continued. “I think you’d know by now that those stories are far from reflective of reality. Monsters? Tricksters and deceivers? You want to find those, just look around the human race. I think Yusuf and Alvarado were way more monstrous than that genie. Killing someone is difficult, impossible even, for many. And it isn’t something to take lightly or take pride in, whether it’s human, dragon, goblin, genie, whatever.”
Morien could still see the face of the jinni, his lips forming their final words of thanks.
“Will… will I have to do it again?” Morien asked. “On this quest, I mean?”
Julia sighed, and sat in silence for many moments.
“I don’t know,” she said at last. “But you know something, I may not believe in those stupid stories of chivalry and romance, but I believe in you.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, you. You’re the closest thing I’ve ever met to a real knight in shining armor. You’re mopey and clueless and naïve, but I know you’ll always do the right thing, no matter how hard it is. You’re a good person, Morien, and I’ll follow you anywhere you go. Believe me when I say that.”
Morien could only stare blankly at the merchant who now sat beside him. It seemed so strange that a friendship should grow from such an unlikely encounter. He still remembered how he had hated Julia, back when she had swindled him into buying that phony sword. He had sworn vengeance upon her that day, and yet here they were now, both praying in a church, with a friendship forged of fire.
“Thank you,” Morien smiled. “Really.”
“I’m glad to see that you’ve finally given up this nonsense once and for all!” Quijano’s maid huffed as she swept the office where he now sat.
“Yes,” Quijano sighed. Things were better this way. Enough death and destruction had been wrought from his irresponsibility. It was time for him to grow up, and put aside such childish dreams of chivalry and romance. The governance of Bastilla had gone to rot in Quijano’s absence, and after the battle, repairs and rebuilding were of the highest order. Someone needed to lead those efforts, and that someone needed to be him.
As Quijano sat at his desk, cluttered with neglected papers and edicts that required his attention, there was a knock at the door, which elicited a puzzled glance between Quijano and his maid.
“Who could that be?” the maid wondered, before going over to open the door.
“Hello,” Morien appeared. “May I come in?”
“I… certainly, my boy,” Quijano replied. “What is it you wanted to see me for?”
“It’s… something important,” Morien glanced at the maid.
“I suppose I’ll leave you two alone then,” the maid shuffled out of the room to give them some privacy.
“Thank you,” Morien called out to her, before turning his attention back to Quijano.
“Yes? What is it?” the hidalgo asked.
“I just, we’ve seen to everyone’s medical needs, and we got the Key of Land,” Morien said. “So we’ll be heading off soon. Before that though, I just wanted to stop by and tell you something important. Uh… how do I begin?
“I know you probably feel pretty lousy right now. But… without you, we might not have gotten to Bastilla, Erin might not have sprung us from jail, and we might never have found the giant.”
“If you’re trying to convince me that my traipsing about was a good thing, I’m afraid I must object,” Quijano sighed. “My participation in your quest was minimal at best. And had I not neglected my station, this whole affair might never have happened. I can never go back to being Don Quixote, the hero.”
“I’m not asking you to,” Morien said.
“Pardon?” Quijano furrowed his brow.
“When I was a kid, I wanted nothing more than to be Lon the Lionheart,” Morien explained. “I tried to craft myself into a mirror image of him, to make myself as much like him as possible. But after all I’ve seen and done, I realize now that that’s never going to happen. No matter how much I try, I’ll never be Lon.”
“Yes,” Quijano murmured. “And I’ll never be Don Quixote, the brave, bold, wise, or whatever-have-you.”
“But that’s okay,” Morien said. “I see now, that’s okay. The more I think about it, all those stories about Lon didn’t help me become him. It helped me become me, the best me I could possibly be. Whenever life got the better of me, I always thought, this is nothing compared to what Lon had to face. If Lon could slay a mighty dragon, surely you can face a couple bullies. Maybe those stories of chivalry and romance aren’t reflective of the real world. Maybe I struggle doing things that came easily to those storybook heroes. But knowing that they existed, even if only in fiction, gives me the courage and strength to face everything that comes to me in my life. Lon is Lon, and I am me, and you are you.”
“What… are you trying to say?”
“I guess… maybe you can’t be a great hero, but you can be a great hidalgo, and in a way, that’s kind of like being a hero. I don’t think trying to make the real world fit the ideals of fiction is a good thing, but I also don’t think throwing away those stories and what they stand for is much better. There’s got to be some happy medium, some space in-between.”
“You know that for certain?”
“No,” Morien smiled. “But I believe, and that gives me strength. I’m sorry. Everything I said sounded a lot cooler in my head.”
“No…” Quijano said somberly. “Thank you.”
“Okay,” Morien said. “And thank you, again, for your help. I, uh, I guess I’ll get going now. Bye.”
And with that, Morien left Quijano to ponder his words. A happy medium? Could it really exist? Quijano did not know, but as he continued to ponder, he found a smile making its way to his lips. Perhaps, he thought, that young hero was on to something.
“So, where to next?” Erin asked, as the questers once more set out on the open road.
“I should say Aix, the capital of Carolina, would be our best bet,” Hobie said. “From your descriptions, it is where all the royals and scholars congregate, after all.”
Ah, Yann sighed wistfully. It had been quite a while since he’d last walked those lands.
“Alright, sure, Carolina it is,” Julia nodded. “Now would you all go back inside and quit crowding the front?”
“Sure, sure,” Morien made his way to follow his companions back into the wagon. Before he could do so though, a sudden gust of wind flew straight through him, and he was forced to cling to the wagon for balance. As the wind whipped through Morien, the noise of its gale seemed almost to form a voice that whispered a warm word of thanks, before passing away into the atmosphere once again. Julia and the others were whipped into a frenzy by the wind, wondering where it could have come from. But as Morien looked into the sky, as beautifully blue as the jinni had been, he had a feeling in his heart that he knew. With one last glance at the city they had left behind, Morien smiled before entering the wagon once more. He had no idea what the future held in store for him, but whatever it was, he would never forget. He would keep the memory of all the people he had met on this adventure in his heart, forever and ever, until the day he died.