And today we meet the final member of our new party. Everyone say hello to Gella.

Gella

It was morning, and Terry woke up still tired, and feeling sore. The previous few days had taken its toll on him. He’d fought more than he had in ages. The sun shone in his eyes and as he looked around the Stand, Aloysius was grazing and Carmichael had set up a small camp stove. Terry sat up and gave a sleepy wave.

“I hope you don’t mind, Master Lingal, but I saw you had food stores,” the old man said. Terry still didn’t know quite what to make of the man, but he’d jumped into a fight to help someone. That was a good first impression.

“First off,” Terry said standing, “call me Terry. I wouldn’t consider myself a “master” of much. Second, you’re welcome to the food stores if you help replenish.” He gave the old man a smile.

The man nodded. “You’re modest. That’s good. Too many braggarts in the hero game these days.”

Terry looked and the man was making hash. He sat on the ground by Carmichael.

“Huh. I guess that’s common in both worlds.” Terry scratched the back of his head.

“What is an Errant Apprentice, if you don’t mind my asking?” Arthur said as he began plating food on tin camping plates from Terry’s bag.

Terry took the plate gladly and tried to explain between bites.

“I’m a knight in training, technically. I started as a squire, but I was supposed to be out on my own, building a name and reputation as an Errant Apprentice. After that I think I was going to be a Knight Protector instead of a Knight Errant. The difference is having a home versus being a vagabond.”

The old man paused with a fork nearly to his mouth. “Was? Something changed your mind?”

Terry could tell there was something happening behind the man’s eyes and it made him uncomfortable in the same way Elton’s recording on his cellphone did. He wondered about that. “I found that my Order was corrupt and was working against their own values and interests. Oh. And they wanted to end the world, apparently.” He still felt betrayed by everything he’d learned. He supposed it didn’t matter any more.

For a long while, the Tutor thought. “Heroes don’t need organizations. Not like what you’re implying. Those sort can be corrupted, and that can corrupt everyone in it.” He took a bite before continuing. “No. Heroes require freedom. The only thing an organization should do for them is keep them on the straight and narrow path.”

Terry could see the sense in that.

“Who watches the watchmen? It’s still an organization. What do you do if one goes bad?” He asked the old man.

Carmichael chuckled.

“Fair question. Society watches the watchmen. Heroes serve the people. Once they stop doing that, they’re not heroes any more. They’re just mercinaries and they’re open game. I’ve watched villages tear down a former hero for lining his pockets or giving one too many orders. Would you let a corrupt hero stand?”

Terry met the man’s eyes. “I never have.”

Carmichael nodded and gave Terry a grin.

“Elseth, the whole town, was buzzing about a young hero. I thought for sure the reputation was inflated, or an act. True heroes are rare since the Sin, but by The One, you might actually be one.”

Terry found himself blushing and went back to his breakfast.

As they rode through the day, Terry asked Carmichael about the lands they were in. It was apparently the outskirts of a vast kingdom of some kind. Arthur called it “The Empire of the Humanities”. Terry thought it sounded hopeful. Aloysius snorted.

“Isn’t the king a ruler in name only?” The horse asked.

“Horses shouldn’t talk politics, Master Horse,” Carmichael said to him. “The EMPEROR is in poor health, as was the last, and the one before him, and the one before him. Anyone who assumes the throne soon becomes ill, but the Empire requires a ruler or it is cursed to fall. One is chosen as a sacrifice by the regional kings. It is an honor and a death sentence.”

“Why?” Terry asked.

“Because of the Sin. The world is broken, Terrance.” The man just didn’t seem comfortable with “Terry”.

“What was the Sin?” Terry wondered out loud.

“You don’t know?” Carmichael asked him, his shock clear.

“Delores mentioned it. Elton mentioned it. I grew up on a farm and fought dragons. That kind of thing sounds above my pay grade.”

“By The One,” Carmichael sighed.

“And what is this One everyone keeps mentioning?”

Aloysius stopped dead and swung his head around.

“Seriously, Terry? Even I know what The One is and I’m stupid.”

“Don’t you ever say that about yourself, Al,” Terry scolded.

“What sort of place is the wide world that you don’t know of the One?” asked Carmichael.

“Doesn’t matter any more,” Terry replied. “Tell me about The One. Is that the real religion here?”

“No. Heavens no. The Greenman is revered, Terrance. We worship HIM for his blessings. The One is beyond worship. The One is only invoked. One doesn’t pray to oneself.”

“Wait, what?” Terry turned to look back at the old man. As Carmichael stared back at him, Terry thought he heard a clicking sound. Then, Carmichael started speaking in a low, steady voice.

“In the beginning there was the One and the One knew loneliness, for there was nothing and no one. That way it remained until it learned of sadness and longing and pain, and so the One became the Three. The Three were the Mind, Body, and Spirit of the One given form and purpose. The Three were separate, but still of the One and together, for a time, they kept the loneliness at bay.”

Terry wondered if the Three were the Holy Trinity. He thought to ask, but the old man continued.

“Eventually, the Three realized that They were not enough. The loneliness returned and with it the sadness and pain of the One. When they could stand this no longer, the Three became the Many. The Many were the needs and purposes of the Three given form and function. The Many were separate, but still of the Three and still of the One and together, for a time, they kept the loneliness at bay.”

Terry understood loneliness. Out there in the woods, what if he could have literally MADE his own friends? Carmichael continued.

“The Many burned with their purpose, but there was nothing to be done and nowhere to do it. To assuage their need, the Many came together and strode out into the void, and as they did, they sang. Their song told the stories of the land and the creatures and the plants and all things that lived at the time. Thus, the Song Lines were laid and with them, all the worlds were created. Then they came together sang a center for it all. A central hub around which all realities would turn, and a clear way to find the One. The Axis Mundi. The Stairway to Heaven. The Gateway to the One, from which all life and magic could flow and reach the lower worlds.”

Terry wondered if that step had been left out of his own religion.

“Once this work was done, the Many saw that there was now too much to be done and too much space for it to be done in. They felt the loneliness returning, so to finally undo that loneliness and pain, they divided themselves a final time. They entered the worlds of the Axis Mundi and became the All.”

“The All?” Terry asked.

“The All was the ultimate expression of the Many’s love for each other, and the Three, and the One. Through the All, the One would finally know happiness and peace and love, because one is never enough. We are the All, young Terrance. Through the One we are given life. Through the Three we are given our souls and magic. Through the Many we are given drive and purpose. That purpose, young Terrance, is to fight back the loneliness and pain. Our purpose in life is to help everyone to realize they are never alone. We are all connected. We are the All. We are All the One.”

Terry rode in silence for a long while. Even Al didn’t try to break it.

“I suppose that doesn’t sit well with you, does it?” Carmichael asked. “I suppose the people of the wide world have their own beliefs. Or perhaps they don’t. I’ve heard very little about the place. Not sure I want to know much.”

“I think,” Terry said, “that my beliefs might be an echo of that story. I think that by the time stories make their way down to my world, they’ve been distorted or maybe parts of them get lost.”

“You’re an observant man, Terrance. I feel like you’d make a good student.”

Terry shrugged.

“My uncle says I’m quick on the uptake, but not very imaginative. My aunt usually smacked him in the back of the head for that. She said I’m as smart as I need to be.”

He heard Carmichael laugh behind him.

“Imagination is a seed. It must be cared for like one or it will grow poorly, or not at all. I’m not sure how learning works in your world, but with Tutors? We teach exactly as much as someone needs or is able to learn. We have to learn the student as much as the student learns the curriculum. Teaching is to learn for others first.”

“Can you teach me?” Aloysius asked.

“You,” Carmichael said, “are a horse.” The answer made Terry feel irritable.

“If Carmichael decides to take me on as a student, Al, I’ll teach you what I learn. Ok?”

The horse did a happy little trot. Carmichael sighed.

The sun was beginning to set when the road finally emerged from the forest, and right as they exited, there was an inn. It was, again, picturesque. Terry reigned Aloysius to a stop out front and faced the horse as Carmichael dismounted.

“Al, stand right here and face me. Arthur, can you stand right over here?” Terry pointed to a spot on the other side of the front door. They both complied and looked confused.

Terry grinned as he walked to the other side of the road and pulled his phone out. He knew he had a limited number of times he could do this, but he felt this was a momentous occasion. He’d want Delores to see it. He pulled his phone out, powered it on, opened the camera, and took a few shots of his companions in front of the inn. Al seemed to be happy for the opportunity. Carmichael looked at him with curiosity.

“What is that?” He asked.

“This is my cell phone. It’s from home. I can’t use it much because it’s going to run out of power eventually, but it lets me take photos. I’m trying to get a few while I can.”

He turned the screen so Carmichael and Al could see the photo. Al nodded. He’d seen the picture of Delores. Carmichael motioned, asking if he could hold it. Terry nodded and handed him the phone. He showed Carmichael how to scroll through photos. He saw the few images Terry had taken. His aunt and uncle. His cousin. Thunder.
Delores.

Terry felt his heart ache. Carmichael looked at him. “This is your lover? The one you lost?”

Terry swallowed, taking his phone back and turning it off. “It is.”

“I hope you find her,” was all he said.

It was later. Aloysius was stabled and talking the poor stable boy’s ear off. Terry and Carmichael sat in the common room at a table with a shockingly large meal in front of them.

Terry had handed some gold to the landlord and asked for lodgings and meals for the night and the morning. He may have overpaid, but he was hungry enough that he didn’t care. They’d skipped lunch.

“I have to ask about your sword,” Carmichael was saying around a turkey leg. Well, Terry assumed it was a turkey leg. It was way bigger than a chicken.

“What about it?”

“Enchanted swords aren’t common here. Especially ones that…” He looked around the room and lowered his voice. “Allow you to travel as freely as you have. Particularly not with the interest of the people who are interested in it.”

Terry was slicing bread and putting bird breast on it with some coarse mustard and crumbled cheese. Carmichael watched him, then started doing the same as Terry answered.

“It was my father’s. He was gifted it by elves from here that had been attacked on the Natchez Trace. They gave him the sword and vanished.”

“And what happened to your father?” Carmichael asked as he began slicing a large hard boiled egg for his own sandwich. Terry took a slice for himself.

“Dead. To a dragon. My mother had already died. I was raised by my Aunt and Uncle on a farm.”

Carmichael smiled as he lifted his sandwich and looked at the monstrosity he’d made.

“That is the origin story of a hero, young Terrance. I’m afraid life left you few choices in what would become of you.”

“Well,” Terry said, “where I come from you’d be surprised how bitter that could make a person. I’ve been told several times that I’m pretty unique.”

For a time neither of them spoke, they were too busy eating. The landlord, a large man named Vaden, approached the table.

“Young Master Lingal, might I ask what you and the esteemed Tutor call those culinary constructions?”

Terry noticed Carmichael look at him and arch an eyebrow.

“What, the sandwiches?” he asked.

“Sandwich?” Vaden asked. “Is that what you call it? Interesting. Interesting.” The man walked back to his bar and Terry could practically see the gears turning in his head. He laughed and Carmichael gave him a questioning look. It didn’t stop him from eating his sandwich, though.

“No matter what else I do here, Arthur, I can be happy knowing I’ve introduced the sandwich.”

Gella sat at her table alone in the common room of the inn. Master Vaden hadn’t wanted to rent a room to a ten year old, but she’d told him her mother and father were on their way and would meet her here the next day. She wasn’t sure he believed her, but he’d been nice enough to play along. Now she was eating a big bowl of stew and had a room to sleep in for the first time in ages. It was in the attic and the bed was tiny, but so was she. She didn’t mind.

Her parents, of course, were not coming. They’d died in the fire started by the gnolls weeks ago and all she had of them was her father’s sword, dug from the ashes of the house. Now she wore it on her back like a barbarian. She missed them both terribly, but she knew she had to stick to her plan, and part of that plan was being brave. She just had to keep pushing the sadness down as hard as she could.

Her plan had been simple, and it still seemed like a good idea. If she could find help. She’d been watching the strangers at the other tables for most of her meal. Most had left already. The merchant that remained was obviously a merchant in his silks and jewels and gold. The other two, though, were another story. The old man might be a merchant. Or a Tutor. Or a Barber on a fool’s errand for all she knew. The young man? He wore strange clothes over a suit of armor. He was a warrior of some sort. Maybe they could help her?

Suddenly, the door to the inn burst open and five men came in. They looked rough. All of them were dirty and had scars of some form. The leader was missing an eye and his left hand had been replaced with a hook. He had no hair at all. Not even eyebrows. Gella sat up. They were highwaymen. She wished they’d stayed on the highway.

They all had daggers or short swords on their belts. but they all used cudgels they carried in their hands. None of them looked particularly healthy to her, but she held no illusions that she could fight them. Her few skirmishes with monsters and animals had been luck on her part so far.

The one-eyed leader looked around at the mostly empty tables as Vaden came around the bar toward them rubbing his hands together.

“Is this it, then?” One-eye said loudly and Gella saw the merchant try to shrink in his seat. The two other men spoke quietly.

“My good master,” Vaden began with a smile on his face, “why don’t you all come in and have a seat and relax. I can let you sample my ale. Free of charge, of course.”

He was trying to defuse whatever was about to happen. Gella knew it was wasted effort. She was about to lose what little coin she had. When one-eye nodded to Vaden and then the tables, she knew she was right. A man who must have been two and a half yards tall approached Vaden.

The man was grayish-green, probably ahalf orc, and when he snorted steam came from his nose. He was terrifying. A dirty man walked slowly to her table with a burlap sack, but was watching the giant man with a grin on his face.

The armored warrior was suddenly just there between the half-orc and Vaden. The half-breed stopped, looked the handsome man in armor up and down, then chuckled. He reached for him.

The young man punched the orc-man. It shouldn’t have been effective, but it sent the giant flying backward into One-eye’s remaining guard. They both hit the wall and there was a sickening crunch behind the orc.

“Put your belongings in the bag, lass. Do it quickly. The sword as well.”

She snapped her gaze up at the man as he spoke. She’d forgotten him for a moment after that punch.

She opened her mouth to explain how little she had, to try and play for sympathy, but before she could, another voice cut her off.

“Oh, now you guys are really pissing me off. A kid?! Seriously?” It was the man in armor.

“Look, mate. I don’t know what you…” was all the man got out.

The warrior hit him with a right hook that sent him flying and left him crumpled on the ground.

“Wait right there,” the warrior said to her. She nodded. She didn’t want to miss this.

The merchant was in a headlock. The man that had been sent to his table had him hostage with a knife to his throat, she saw. The old man stood there with a quarter staff and made no threatening moves. He didn’t look particularly interested.

“NO SUDDEN MOVES!” the highwayman yelled. “Take one step and I slit the fat man’s throat!”

“Of course,” the old man said in a gravelly drawl. “Can’t have that. Not one step.”

The man flung a dagger at the highwayman’s throat, who collapsed with a terrible gurgling sound and let the merchant go. The old man walked over and pulled his knife free.

“Uneducated buffoon,” he mumbled.

Gella was shocked. She whipped her head around and saw One-eye. He was facing the door, but between him and his escape was the man in armor.

“I’m guessing you wouldn’t want to just have a sudden change of careers, would you?” he asked the highwayman.

“You must be touched in the head, boy. I don’t care what tricks you just pulled on my men!” He took a swipe with his hook hand and the armored man dodged him with seemingly no effort at all. Then he simply grabbed One-eye’s shirt with one hand, lifted him in the air, and smashed him into the ground with enough force that it shook the bowl on her table.

“By the nine hells, Terrance.” The old man said. Terrance. His name was Terrance. Gella committed to memory. “You never told me you were a Spell Blade.”

Terrance looked at the old man in confusion for a moment, then turned to Vaden, who was staring.

“Master Vaden,” Terrance said, “are there police near by?”

“Police?” the landlord asked.

Terrance sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Uh, constables? King’s guards? A sheriff? Any kind of law enforcement?”

“AH!” Vaden shouted. “Yes! The sheriff for the district is not far up the road in town! I can send the stable boy for him.”

“Awesome,” Terrance said, then looked down at One-eye. “Might want to throw a medic or a healer in there as well. I may have gotten a bit angry about the kid.” He looked at the dead man by the merchant. He gave the old man a dirty look. “And a mortician.”

Gella hung around the corners of the common room trying not to be noticed as the sheriff and the healers did their work and the highwaymen were transported in a gaoler’s wagon. She quietly watched Terrance. He was helpful and polite to the sheriff and his men. She expected him to go upstairs after all the excitement. It was after dark by then, after all. Instead, he looked around the room and found her.

She found herself hunching her shoulders as he approached, but instead of looking down at her, he knelt in front of her chair.

“Hi!” he said with a broad grin and kind eyes. “I’m Terry. What’s you’re name?”

“The old man said your name was Terrance.”

He sighed. “That’s my full name. Most people call me Terry. So please call me Terry.”

She nodded. “My name is Gella.”

“Where are your parents?”

She meant to tell him they were waiting on her, and that she just needed someone to watch over her till then, but something about this man made the lie freeze in her throat. She felt the need to tell the truth, and that need brought the facts forward. She felt the first tears fall. He put a hand on her shoulder.

“It’s ok, are they, uh, gone?” he asked. She understood what he meant. She nodded.

He looked sad. “Mine are too. Where are you off to out here on your own, then?”

She sniffed and blew her nose on the hem of her dress.

“I’m going to Tir-Na-Nog.” She said. “I… I don’t really know what to do once I get there, though. The stories all say they take care of orphans. I don’t know what else to do.”

“That sounds like a dangerous trip.”

“Do you think I’m too young?” she asked defiantly. Honestly, she probably was, but she wasn’t about to let someone tell her that.

“Maybe, but I was about your age the first time I killed a dragon,” he told her with a smile, and her face lit up.

“You’ve killed a dragon?!” she shouted.

He looked embarrassed all of a sudden and scratched the back of his head. “Three, actually.”

“Master Terry?” she asked.

“JUST Terry, Gella, or I’ll call you Mistress Gella, and where will that get us?”

She smiled. “Terry? Could you escort me to Tir-Na-Nog? I can pay.” She fished in her belt pouch and pulled out nine pieces of silver.

Terry looked down at the money and then back up at her face. He glanced at the old man who spoke with the landlord. He reached out and closed her hand around the money.

“I can’t take your money, Gella. And I don’t know if I can take you all the way to Tir-Na-Nog. But…”

“Terrance!” The old man shouted happily as he approached them. “Master Vaden has realized he might have overcharged you for the room and food. He, uh, miscounted. Especially once he saw you defend the inn as you did.”

He held out his hand and there were three gold coins in it. Gella’s eyes widened at the sight. Terry took the coins and stuck them in his coat pocket.

“Arthur?” Terry said standing, “I’d like you to meet Gella.”

The old man bowed formally.

“Hello, child. I am Arthur Carmichael. Master Tutor, at your service.”

“I thought you were a Tutor.”

“Very observant,” he said, and then patted her on the head. It did not endear him to her at all.

“Arthur, I think Gella here is going to be coming along with us for a while. At least as far as we’re going in the same direction.”

Gella’s eyes widened. She’d thought for sure he was going to bow out when he turned down the money.

“Is she?”

“She has no parents.”

“Neither do I,” Arthur said.

Terry looked at him seriously. “And neither do I, Arthur. I lost them when I was younger than her.”

Arthur opened his mouth.

“I won’t leave her. You said yourself that our purpose in life is to fight the loneliness. Well I’m starting with her. It feels like the right thing to do.”

The old man closed his mouth and stared at the two of them. Finally he sighed. “Well, if I doubted you were a hero, I’ve been disabused of the notion. Very well. This is your party anyway.”

Terry looked down at her. “Gella, do you have a room?”

She nodded excitedly.

“You should get some sleep, then. We’re starting early tomorrow,” he said with a broad grin for her and she nodded.

“Thank you, Terry. I’ll be ready at dawn.”

With that, Gella hopped off of her chair, curtsied, and trotted to the stairs. As she climbed the three flights to her attic room, she felt much more hope than she had in the last month.

Previous Chapter

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Arthur Carmichael has waited a LONG time to come to the stage. Let’s welcome him.

A Murder of Crows

After procuring a saddle and riding equipment from Tulmos and food stuffs from the local grocer, Terry decided to walk Aloysius out of town. He received nods and waves from the locals, which was as far as any thanks giving went. He was glad for that. Aloysius kept doing a little dance as they walked and smiled continuously.

“Excited?” Terry asked.

“Oh yes!” Aloysius replied. “I’ve always wanted to go on an adventure! I think I have, anyway. I don’t remember much from before. But I’m sure I’ve always wanted to!”

“Before?”

“Before I woke up. I think I was a normal horse before that. Or, a normal horse that could find anything,” Aloysius said, suddenly giving that a lot of thought.

“Well, what’s the first thing you remember?” Terry asked.

“I think I was standing in a field. There were butterflies. I like butterflies.”

Terry shook his head. He seemed to attract steeds that suddenly knew they were steeds. “Well, wherever you’re from, Al, I’m glad to have you along. This was going to be a very lonely journey otherwise.”

They passed the last of the houses on the edge of town and found themselves back on the open road. A horse cart rumbled past into town and Terry watched. This world was going to take some getting used to. He started checking Al’s saddle and bridle before he climbed up.

“So where am I going?” Al asked.

Terry stopped and tried to think of how to explain who he wanted Al to find. He reached into his pocket and pulled his phone out. He turned it back on and, as it booted up, walked in front of the horse. He waited and when the phone was on, he saw his wallpaper. It was Delores. She’d taken the picture in New Orleans when he’d first gotten it. His heart sank. He rolled his shoulders as if he could shake the mood off and turned it to where Aloysius could see the image.

“OOOOOW! What’s this? Is it magic?” he asked, craning his head around trying to figure the phone out.

“Let’s go with yes and move on,” Terry said. “This? This is Delores. She’s the most important thing in the world to me, Al. I lost her. She’s out there somewhere and I swore I’d always come back to her. I need you to find her.”

The horse studied the image and seemed to concentrate for several minutes. Terry thought he was about to tell him he was out of luck. But instead, his ears rotated around like satellite dishes, and then he began looking around in all directions. Suddenly, his ears swiveled east and Al’s head snapped in that direction.

“I am looking right at her,” he said happily. “And she’d definitely alive or I couldn’t find her, so that’s a relief.” He grinned, which was impressive for a horse.

Terry’s knees nearly gave out at that. Before that moment he hadn’t realized how much he’d been relying on his own wavering faith. Now he knew. She was alive. He suddenly didn’t care how long the journey took. He needed to get there.

Terry reached up and began stroking the horse’s mane.

“Aloysius, you may have just saved my life. Thank you.”

Al smiled at him and motioned with his head. “Hop on! Let’s get this adventure started!”

Terry grinned and swung himself up into the saddle and, without prompting, Aloysius set off at a brisk walk. Terry knew he’d be bowlegged after a few days of this. It was a small price to pay. Aloysius began to hum a song Terry didn’t recognize.

As they headed down the eastern road, Terry began to feel awkward. It was probably because he was riding a horse that he knew could talk and it just felt weird. Weirder than his scooter, Thunder, that had turned out to be alive. He was going to miss that little guy. And Elton. And his Aunt and Uncle. He needed to distract himself.

“How far do you think she is?” Terry asked as Aloysius continued his humming.

“Hmm? Oh. No idea. I won’t know until we get closer.” The horse hung his head. “Sorry. I should have said. Are you mad?”

Terry chuckled.

“No, Al. I’m not mad. There’s an old saying in the wide world. You never look a gift horse in the mouth.” He was suddenly amused at the saying and his situation.

“That’s weird, Terry. Why would you look in a horse’s mouth. The wide world is weird. And who would give away a horse? And then look in its mouth?!”

Terry shook his head and his grin widened. “That’s fair. It basically means don’t complain about something you’ve been given for free.” Terry thought about that. “Not that you’re a thing to be given, of course. Sorry.”

Al tossed his head in what Terry gathered was a noncommittal way.

“No offense taken!” Terry sighed with relief, then patted Al’s neck.

Al went back to his humming for a time and Terry started taking in the world he was passing. It was like home, but not quite. The only plant he could directly identify at the moment was grass. Everything else was fern-like. Or weed-like, or an alien type of tree. He heard bird song but, again, nothing he recognized. It was more subtle than the mountain had been, but it shook him more.

“Hey Terry?” Al asked suddenly, and Terry was thankful for the distraction.

“Yeah?”

“How did you lose Delores?”

Terry opened his mouth to explain the battle with the Minotaur and the Plague Doctors, but instead he found himself starting further back. He started with leaving home, and his training to become a knight. He told Aloysius of meeting Delores in Biloxi and his almost immediate infatuation with her, and his denial of that infatuation. He told Al the entire story of his travels and adventures. Of Lawless, and Elton, and the goblins. Then, after everything, he came to Delores being thrown into the Everywhen.

“That’s really sad, Terry. You two had just gotten together,” Aloysius said, turning his head to look at him. Terry just nodded.

“Delores always said my life was one of the saddest stories she’d ever heard. It didn’t seem that way when it was happening.”

“Well don’t worry!” the horse said, smiling. “We’ll get there.”

Arthur Carmichael was no stranger to traveling the roads alone and getting caught out at night. He had hoped to pass through Elseth quickly and quietly, but apparently there had been a big to-do there involving the former mayor and some young hero or other. The blacksmith was doing all the talking. The current mayor was in hiding. Arthur had to stay and learn the details. That was what he did. He stored information, and you never knew what information was going to be important.

The golden scarab on the back of his neck did most of the actual storage, of course. The human mind could only hold so much before it started forgetting, or alter facts to fit belief. That’s why the Stonus had been created. Indisputable facts stored permenantly and the inability to lie about those facts. The Tutors were the last bastion of truth and history in a world that often wanted to forget both.

Darkness had fallen some time ago and Arthur found himself double checking his brown coat and green vest to make sure his daggers were still in place. His quarterstaff was old, but still as strong as the day he’d fashioned it. His lantern… well, it was just a lantern, but in a pinch it could be an incendiary grenade. He was ready for anything he found in the night in the forests beyond the Rushy Glen.

Or he thought he was.

He heard the sounds of battle somewhere off the road. Battles in the darkened woods were not something he found himself interested in during his twilight years. He continued along the road. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw light flash off to the left. Magic. Whatever was happening out there wasn’t a normal fight.

Arthur shook himself. No. He was too damned old for this. But it had the feel of a Story. It had the feeling that he needed to at least see this. Someone did. He stopped in the road and gripped his quarterstaff tightly in one hand.

The people of Elseth had said their young hero had gone this way.

He found himself traipsing deeper into the woods, away from the road. He heard a voice in the distance but couldn’t make out what it was saying. Then another, a strong voice. A voice with command in it. Then a voice that made his blood freeze in his veins and his steps quicken.

Only one creature in all of the Everywhen could sound like that.

Plague Doctors.

Arthur stopped at the edge of a clearing. He could see the shapes. Six of the horrid bird-men slowly circling a man and a yellow horse.

The man was dressed oddly. He wore clothes Arthur had never seen. What truly drew his eye though was the sword. It glowed like a piece of the sun brought to the earth.

One of the Plague Doctors threw a fireball at the youth, and he turned, slicing the ball in half. The two flaming halves were absorbed into the blade! Surely that couldn’t be possible.

Suddenly, the bird-men all launched attacks at once and Arthur knew he was about to watch a man die. But instead, the youth was a whirlwind. He spun, his blade slicing each spell and never letting them near him or his horse. Arthur did a quick search of the Stonus, but there was precious little on something like this. Talk of the Lost Paladins. A mention of the Green Knight. One of the Oak King, but those were legends from before the Sin.

“Where did you take her!” the man shouted, and the question was greeted by laughter. The sound of crows. Arthur shivered from his vantage point.

“Would you like us to take you to her?” one asked, and the man spun to face him.

“She may still be alive,” said another, “but you might not want her after what we’ve done.”

Arthur expected a sudden burst of anger. An all out attack. But the man stood his ground and waited.

“Why are you hunting me? Is it the sword?”

Laughter again.

“Sport,” one behind the man said, and he spun to face the speaker. Arthur saw a Plague Doctor raise his hands and recognized the gestures for lightning. Before he had time to think, Arthur had thrown a dagger. It pierced the eye of the caster and it dropped to the ground, kicking. The others spun to face the direction the dagger had come from.

“Well, shite.” He said. The man turned to face him as well.

“Sic ‘em, Al!” The man shouted, and the horse ran toward two of the distracted Plague Doctors, trampling them into the ground. The man became a storm of death with that glowing blade of his. Arthur leaped from his spot and began to engage the horrible bird-men. Staff against staff.

It was not an easy fight. They were at least as good as him, but if he could keep them busy, they wouldn’t have time to concentrate and cast spells. These things had taken his father and he had a personal vendetta against them.

Arthur lost track of one of them, but the one he faced now was problem enough. He heard shrieks behind him but didn’t dare stop to look at what was happening. The bird was beginning to push Arthur back. This wasn’t how he wanted to die.

Suddenly, lightning fell from the night sky and struck the bird-man. There was a momentary squawk before the thing exploded, sending Arthur sprawling on his back. He immediately loaded all the details of the fight onto the Stonus for later review.

When he looked around, the young man was standing there with his sword pointing at where the bird had been. By the Greenman, he’d summoned lightning himself. The other birds were all either bisected or trampled to death. Maybe Arthur hadn’t been needed at all. A man like this might not look kindly on someone else...

“Thanks for the help, sir!” the man said. He slid his sword somewhere inside his coat and offered Arthur a hand to his feet. The night was suddenly dark and the lantern did very little to help from where it sat on the ground.

“You’re welcome. Could I bother you to bring that sword back out? It might keep predators at bay.” He told the man. “Who are you?”

The young man pulled the sword out with one hand, blade still glowing, and held the other out to Arthur.

“Terry Lingal, sir. Errant Apprentice.”

Arthur shook the man’s hand gladly. This was the young hero they’d mentioned.

“Arthur Carmichael. Tutor. Sort of an Errant Teacher, if that makes sense to you.” He scratched at his neatly trimmed beard as the horse walked up and stared at him.

“Hi!” the horse said, and Arthur jumped. “I’m Aloysius.”

“Uh,” Arthur said. He’d seen a lot, but a talking horse was still an oddity.

“I’m a horse!” it said.

“I’d gathered.”

“What brings you into the woods on a night like this?” the young man, Terry, asked. “I’d kinda picked up from Tulmos that these woods were best traveled in daylight.”

“I’d ask the same of you, Master Lingal,” Arthur said. “You mentioned a “she” to the Plague Doctors.”

Terry began looking Aloysius over for injuries. The horse would occasionally say “that tickles”.

“My partner was thrown into the Everywhen. I’m here to find her,” he said. There seemed to be a forced calmness as he said it. Wait. Did he say thrown here?

“By The One. Are you from the wide world, Master Lingal?” Arthur immediately started recording.

“It’s just Terry, but yes. Delores got thrown here by the Plague Doctors.” He patted Aloysius on the neck. “So I followed her here.”

“How?!” Arthur shouted. That shouldn’t be possible. Nothing about the young man seemed possible.

Terry held his sword up. “This. I think the bird-men want it. Once I find Delores, someone else can have the thing.”

Arthur stopped recording and just stared. If that sword had allowed him to travel to the Everywhen on its own…

“I think,” said Arthur, “that might be a very bad idea.”

Terry sighed. “Well, again, thank you for the help. I need to be on my way. I want to get somewhere safe before it gets too late.”

“You’re already too late for that. You’ve the whole night and a large part of the following day to get out of these woods.” Arthur had no intention of letting the man out of his sight if what he suspected was true. “I will travel with you, if you don’t mind.”

Terry looked at him very carefully. He seemed to be weighing Arthur down to the last gram. Arthur had never felt so judged in his life. He began to question who he was himself. Something about this man held power. But then Terry smiled.

“Sure. I could use the company.” Terry swung up into the saddle and held a hand out for Arthur, who looked at the horse dubiously.

“Master Horse,” Arthur said, “do you mind a second rider?”

“Not at all! This is getting exciting, Terry!”

The man patted the horse again and grinned as he pulled Arthur up behind the saddle.

“Where am I going?” Terry asked.

“There’s a smaller clearing near the road a little farther along. It’s warded.” Arthur said. “It’s called a Stand. We can bed down for the night.”

The young man turned the horse back to the road and they were on their way.

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Let’s take a step back for a moment. A step back to some undisclosed time before Terry arrived in the Everywhen. We don’t know how long ago it was, but we know it was when Delores arrived in the Everywhen…

Delores

Delores staggered backward out of the giant chamber into the light of day, hurling fireballs like her life depended on it, which was appropriate because it did. The crow thing had thrown her through the portal and she’d found herself surrounded by hundreds of them. That had been bad enough, but the thing at the back of the chamber? It was madness.

She tried not to think about it as she spun her left hand over her head and redirected several bolts of lightening back to the casters. The mana she drew in screamed at her to be used. It burned with a need to do something, anything. It begged to fix things. It wanted these creatures gone. She was happy to oblige.

Delores caught herself on the verge of falling backward because of a stone in the ground. For a moment she saw that the entrance to the chamber was in a giant stone hill. Or that’s what she thought it was. She was more concerned with that entrance and the things starting to creep out with their inhuman movements. She NEEDED Terry, but Terry was back home. She didn’t have time to worry about that yet. They were still coming.

She felt a light tap on her shoulder and she spared a glance. There was a tiny man standing there. She recognized his outfit from her readings.

“The Wee Folk,” she said in a stunned whisper.

“Yes, ma’am. Been sent to find ya. Name’s Humphrey. Give us two shakes and we’ll have this sorted.”

The strange birdmen stopped their advance at the sight of the Gentry on her shoulder. Delores looked around at the yellow grass and saw it rustling in dozens and dozens of locations. She stopped her retreat and looked at the tiny man on her shoulder again. He cupped his hands to his mouth.

“WE DAREN’T GO A HUNTING!” he shouted, and a chorus of voices rang out in response.

“FOR FEAR OF LITTLE MEN!!”

Suddenly, three dozen of the Wee Folk were leaping and bounding toward the birdmen, who began backing their way into the cavern. They spun their staves and knocked the attacking men back, but they just leaped forward again as soon as they hit the ground. They seemed indestructible.

About a dozen of them broke off and darted to Delores. Humphrey looked at her.

“Ma’am, this is gonna be a little awkward for you. Just sort of relax if you can and let us do our job.”

With that, two of the Wee Folk knocked Delores’s feet out from under her and she felt tiny hands on her back. The next thing she knew she was staring up at a sun in a burning red sky as she moved at unknown speeds away from the hill. She looked back, between her feet, and saw that the stone hill was far more. It was the remains of a giant tortoise shell.

“Ok! Stop! Where are you taking me?!” she shouted. She tried struggling off of them, but something about their grip seemed to be enchanted. She couldn’t get herself loose.

Suddenly, Humphrey stood on her sternum with his hands on his hips.

“Can’t do that yet, ma’am. Gotta get you further away. We’ll let you go then and you can walk with us.”

“I don’t want to walk anywhere. I want you to get me home. Now.” God, Terry must be losing his mind right then. She needed to get back.

“Not something we can do for ya, miss…”

“Delores,” she said.

“Miss Delores, that’s beyond our power. We can pass through but we can’t bring things with us,” he said, pacing a small circuit on her.

“Well I hope you’re taking me to who can then. And how did you know I was there?”

That stopped Humphrey short and put a smile on his face.

“We might be takin’ you somewhere that can help, Miss Delores. We might be. They can tell you once we get there. As to how, as servants of the Greenman, he only tells us what to do. Not why.”

She stared at Humphrey. The Greenman? He knew about her? Well, he had saved her and Terry from a fall once, or she thought he had, but this was far more than a simple favor to a wayward child.

After a time, the troop halted and let her get to her feet. She stood quickly, dusting herself off, and looked back the way she’d come. There was no sign of the shell. She had no idea how far they’d actually traveled. The Plague Doctors back there could open a sending, but the idea of charging back in there to try to force them didn’t sit well with her. There had been that giant thing in there with them. She knew time was weird here, though, and she was terrified of how much time would pass for her here compared to home. She was iffy on the whole dynamic.

She took in the land that surrounded her. Golden plains of grass stretched as far as the eye could see with a darkened red sky above. Trees that looked for all the world like wooden hands popped up at random intervals. The birds looked like manta rays. There was a feeling of wrongness here that she couldn’t understand. It went beyond warped mana.

She had no other choice. She had to travel with these Wee Folk to wherever they were going. They were her only way home. Besides, she sure as hell wasn’t going to stay here.

“Where am I being taken?” she asked, turning back to Humphrey and his men.

“Oh! To Tir-Na-Nog, Miss Delores. It’s the closest stronghold of light in these parts and the Greenman has commanded we see you there safety.”

Again, Delores’s mind reeled. Tir-Na-Nog was THE home of magic. It literally flowed from there into all other worlds.

“And you said that they might send me home from there?” she asked.

The Wee Man looked ashamed and started pacing in long strides.

“You’ve a sharp ear for words, Miss. We did say MIGHT. They may have the power, but the decision is up to them, of course.” He scratched at a pointed ear. “The Greenman seemed to want to keep you close at hand for now.”

Terry. It was because of Terry’s stupid mission to hunt down and kill the Greenman. Well, she could meet the man himself and explain that Terry had abandoned his vows and his quest. Maybe they would send her home then.

She felt her stomach sink. They may not. She’d be here for good then. She’d never see Terry again. Or Elton.

But Terry...

He hadn’t actually asked her. He hadn’t. He’d said he wanted to marry her, and she had said she would when he DID ask. She felt like she was going to throw up. They were both finally happy. He’d had such a wonderful dream for them. Her beautiful hero.

“There, there, Miss. It’ll be ok. We’ll get you where you’re going and then, well, who knows,” Humphrey said. She gave him a smile, and he stepped back involuntarily. It may not have been a pleasant smile, but it was a smile. She got on her hands and knees to get nearly at eye level with the Wee Folk.

“Take me where you’ve been ordered, Gentry. It doesn’t matter.”

“Oh?” he asked, seeming nervous, but curious.

“It doesn’t matter where you take me. Terry Lingal will find me.”

A chunkier Wee Fella walked up and whispered loudly at Humphrey. She heard it.

“I think maybe the good lady has cracked, Humph.”

Humphrey, for what it was worth, elbowed the fat man in the ribs.

“Will he now?” Humphrey said. He smiled, but it was mocking. “Crosses the plains of existence often, does he?”

“He gave me a vow, little man. Terry Lingal doesn’t break vows.” She stood. “Now which way are we going. I don’t have any food or supplies, or time to waste on arguing for that matter.”

Humphrey leaped onto her shoulder again and pointed away from the sun’s position in the sky.

“East,” he said, still grinning like she’d told him a joke. “We leave the Ill Defined Areas of Doubt and Uncertainty and cross the Gelstun Sands. We’ll provide for you on the way.”

Delores started walking in the indicated direction, put her hands in her coat pockets, and smiled to herself. The troop had to run to keep up.

“Gelstun is a desert?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Humphrey said, sitting down on her shoulder. He turned and watched his troop follow. “Do you have a hat?”

“No,” she said simply.

“Well, gonna have to dig you up a hat somewhere. Might have one big enough for ya.”

“As long as it’s not a Phrygian cap like yours, then fine.”

As Humphrey began to issue orders to his men for supplies to be gathered, Delores felt better. All she had to do was get to Tir-Na-Nog. There she could explain the new situation to the Greenman and get sent home. And if that didn’t work? Terry had vowed to come back to her. Well, she was here now. He’d just have to come here. If she didn’t return, he would come for her. She had no doubt. She normally wanted to handle her problems herself. There was a time and a place when she wanted him to charge in and rescue her.

She looked around as the air shimmered and she saw a hand-tree come into existence from nowhere twenty feet from her.

This MIGHT be the time and the place she needed him to be the hero, and Terry had said it himself in Dans La Bouche. Heroes save people.

A manta-bird swooped from the sky and snatched up something from the grass in it’s mouth, before returning to the sky. It looked like it had grabbed a small moose in its mouth. The manta reached a dizzying height before dropping its prey. She watched as the mammal screamed it’s way to the ground, and the whole thing ended in a sickening thud. The manta-bird swooped in and she heard a horrible sound as it fed on the carcass.

“That won’t happen to you, Miss Delores. We’re under orders,” Humphrey said next to her ear.

Find me, you sweet idiot, she thought as she marched into the wild places of another world and tried to stomp down the fear she felt. She wouldn’t let them know how frightened she was. She wouldn’t let any of them know.

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Hi everyone! This time, Terry meets a talking horse and fights a pig demon. Let’s see how THAT goes!

Aloysius

Terry awoke about two hours later because nothing about where he found himself was comfortable. He was surprised he’d slept as long as he had, honestly. His dreams had become unpleasant as well and offered him no relief. Dreams of finding Delores an aged crone in some village. Dreams of finding her grave, surrounded by her children and grandchildren from some marriage because why would she wait for him? But these were of his own mind. There didn’t seem to be anything of prophecy to them.

He stood, shouldered his saddle bags, and set off the way he had come. As much as he might despise the little man called Humphrey, Terry felt that he’d won a bet or a contest of some form against him the previous night. He thought that games and their rules were honored here. After all, that’s how it was in the stories.

He walked for a long time until he passed what he’d call a bayou back home. It was lovely in the morning light and he stopped for a moment to take it in.

“Uh, hello?” a voice said. Terry sighed. He looked around and all he saw was a horse a little ways out, sunken up to its neck. It was an odd horse. It was a soft yellow in color with a gray mane. It’s eyes looked shockingly clear and thoughtful and its face was expressive.

“Who said that?” Terry asked loudly. He addressed the horse. “Your rider somewhere around, fella?”

“Nope!” the horse said. “Just me! I just KNEW you’d come back!”

Terry looked around again.

“Is there an ogre with an Scottish accent somewhere?”

“Uh, nope! Just me! Can you help?”

The voice was so light-hearted and friendly that Terry knew he was going to.

“Sure. How’d you get out there and how are you stuck?” he asked.

“Well,” the horse said, “it’s a long story. There was this butterfly and...”

Suddenly, the horse sank lower and its eyes went wide.

“TOO LONG. SHORT VERSION. GONNA DROWN. PLEASE HELP.”

Terry dropped his bags and quickly fished out the rope he kept there. You should always carry a rope with you. He tied some quick, loose knots he knew, and started swinging the rope over his head. It didn’t really look like it did it in the movies, but it was the correct way to swing a lasso.

“I’m gonna get this around your neck and pull it tight,” Terry said. “I want you to grab it with your teeth without biting through it. Just enough to take some of the force of the pull. Don’t ask how I’m about to do this. Just trust me. It’s just what I do.”

The horse nodded vigorously and Terry tossed the rope. He got it in one throw. One thing he’d learned as a squire, you miss a few displacer beasts and you learn accuracy pretty quick.

Terry tensed himself and concentrated on not hurting the animal as he did so. He felt something in him... help? He gave the rope a pull with all his strength that had him bent over in the opposite direction. As soon as he felt the weight at the end come free and a high pitch voice start to scream, Terry dropped and rolled to his left. The horse landed on its side in the road. It laid there panting savagely for a minute, before raising it’s head to look at him.

“THAT WAS NEAT!” the horse said excitedly. Terry watched as it rolled onto its front knees and got itself standing. “Who are you, Mister?”

Terry smiled and got the rope from around the horse’s neck. He was still exhausted, but at least he could still do his job.

“I’m Terry Lingal, Errant Apprentice.” The horse tilted it’s head and looked at him curiously. “It’s like a knight.” The horse blinked at him. “I’m a hero.” Terry settled on.

The horse’s face lit up. It was a shockingly expressive animal. Everything it did reminded him of a person. Or a puppy.

“A hero! That’s great!” it said excitedly. “My name’s Aloysius!”

Terry smiled and nodded.

“I’m a horse!”

“I’d gathered,” Terry said. The horse was extremely enthusiastic. He patted him on the neck.

“Well, Aloysius, you’re free. Just don’t go wandering around near bogs again. I probably won’t be there the next time.” He smiled and started walking back down the road. He still wasn’t sure what he was looking for. He heard the “clop-clop” of hooves following him. He stopped and looked back. Aloysius was there.

“Can I come with you?” the horse asked.

“I’m sorry, Al. I’m looking for something and you probably have to get on home.” Terry wasn’t about to keep saying “Aloysius” over and over. He’d gotten used to nicknames with Delores. She didn’t like her name, so he’d called her “D” for short. He, personally, loved her name. It was beautiful. It always had been.

“I don’t have a home,” Al said, and Terry frowned.

“You don’t?”

“No. I’ve tried finding it but there’s no where that feels like home when I concentrate on it, and I can find anything.”

Terry blinked. He was King Idiot.

“You can find anything?” Of COURSE this is what Humphrey had meant.

“Yep! I’m a magic horse!” Al beamed with pride.

“So,” Terry said slowly, “if I told you someone I’m looking for, you could find them for me?”

“Oh yeah! That’d be easy! And I can carry you! Did I mention I’m a horse?”

“You may have, yes,” Terry said with a grin. “Ok. Al? Do you mind if I call you Al?”

“Not at all! I like it!” Al said. Terry had never met anyone in his life with this much enthusiasm or unbridled joy. BRIDLE! Of course!

“Ok. First, before we find who I’m looking for, I need you to lead me to a town. I need to get a saddle and bridle of some form. Is that ok?” Terry asked. He’d ridden horses before, he’d lived on a farm after all. He’d prefer to not ride bareback, but this was a talking horse. He needed to ask permission. It only seemed right.

Aloysius did this little trotting dance in place.

“EEEEEEEE! Yes! Absolutely! I get to be a mount! For a hero!” Terry smiled and patted the horse’s neck again.

“Ok, buddy. Until then I REALLY need to ride you. Even if it is bareback. I’m exhausted.” Terry managed to do a single hop onto the horse’s back and carefully gripped his mane.

Aloysius started a cheerful trot.

Terry allowed himself a glimmer of hope. Something good had finally happened.

The village was a bit of a ride. Terry stopped short of town, dug in his saddle bags, and found the sack of gold that Humphrey had left him. It was not an insubstantial amount as far as Terry could tell. He also found a power bar and devoured the thing and polished off his canteen of water. He was going to need to pick up quite a few things.

He held the sack in one hand and with the other pulled out the Mercy. The Mercy was the one gun that the Order had allowed the knights. It was powerful, violent, and Terry hated it. He’d used it three times as a last resort and once as a first resort. He stuffed the bag into the pocket of holding and stared at the gun. He checked and it had no shells. You never rode around with that thing loaded. You could lose a leg. Or your lower abdomen.

“Good riddance,” Terry said, then hurled the unloaded gun into the woods. Something might find it, but there was nothing they could do with it without ammo. Maybe some gnomes could gut it and put it to use.

As Terry rode into town, he saw it was full of humans. He hadn’t been sure what lived in this valley, and there was a part of him that felt disappointed it was his own people. Those people gave him looks as he passed them on the street. He didn’t think he looked that alien. Or maybe it was Aloysius. The horse’s head was hung low and he walked like he was trying not to be noticed.

“This isn’t your first time here, is it?” Terry asked.

The horse swung his head to the side and gave him a remorseful look.

“I might have gotten on some people’s nerves here the other day.”

Terry stroked Al’s mane.

“Well that’s ok. We’re just here for a few supplies. We’ll be on our way soon enough.”

He looked around and saw a stable with a store attached. Well, the sign’s drawing hinted that’s what it was. It had a horse and anvil on it. Terry couldn’t read whatever passed for writing in the Everywhen. Al came to a stop out front and Terry hopped off just as a man came bustling out the opened door.

The man was balding with a handlebar mustache, wide with giant arms, a foot shorter than Terry and wore a sleeveless shirt and a leather vest. The very image of a villager from one of the fairy stories.

“No! No, you take that horse and ride right the hells on, boy. He’s not welcome here.” The man said waving a finger like a summer sausage. Terry thought he might have some dwarf in him.

“Don’t worry, sir. That’s my intention. Al’s going to wait right here while I buy a saddle.” He turned to the horse. “Right, Al?”

The horse nodded but remained silent. He looked sad. How big of a jerk did you have to be to make a horse sad?

The man looked at Terry doubtfully.

“You’re not from these parts. Where are you from, boy?”

“The wide world, sir.”

The man’s eyes widened.

“By the Greenman. Someone’s come through again.”

Terry tried not to act too hopeful. Or desperate. “Someone’s come through here before? A woman?”

“No,” the man said. “Probably a couple of decades ago. Some fat man in fancy clothes. Lost as a child.”

The man looked Terry up and down, suddenly appraising.

“Not like you. You seem to know what you’re about. If the horse stays out here and keeps his mouth shut, we can do some business.”

“What did he do?” Terry asked.

The man gave a heavy sigh. “The horse is known in these parts. He asks... questions.”

“What’s wrong with asking questions?” Terry asked.

“You’ve just met him?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You’ll see.” Was all the man said as he turned and entered his shop. Terry followed.

Inside was everything one might need for riding. Saddles, bridles, saddle blankets, even feed bags and feed, along with more things than Terry could put a name to. He looked around and was familiar with most of it, but he didn’t know the first thing about quality.

“I see you already have saddle bags. You had a horse before?” the man asked.

“Sort of. I had... well, it was a wide world thing. Our version of a horse.” Terry realized he had gone about this all wrong and held his hand out to the man. “Terry Lingal, sir. Errant Apprentice. And you are?”

“Tulmos,” the man said. He took Terry’s hand and shook. It was firm, but not aggressive. Terry smiled and the man’s earlier standoffishness left him.

“So,” Tulmos said, “You’ve the bags, but you’ll need everything else. It won’t be cheap. Not for good equipment.”

Terry grimaced. He could probably afford what he needed. Probably.

“I’ll tell you what, Mister Tulmos. Why don’t you show me what you feel I need and then we can discuss the cost.”

The man smiled as he began selecting equipment. Before he’d gotten past the saddle itself, a large, older man with white hair dressed in black finery rushed in the opened doors. Terry saw he had a silver chain around his neck with a medallion dangling there. It had a Greenman face on it.

“Who in the nine hells brought that horse back here?!” the man said, pointing at Aloysius. The poor animal’s ears were drooping.

“Mayor Gethwin,” Tulmos said, “that would be my young customer here. He’s stopping for riding gear. To ride the horse out of town. Away.”

The mayor, Gethwin, looked Terry up and down before walking up, hands on hips.

Terry just met his stare and smiled.

“He’s from the wide world, Mayor.” Tulmos added.

That stopped the mayor short. His expression went from upset to shocked.

“AH,” he said. “I see. Well, as long as you’re just passing through. WITH the horse, then that’s fine.”

“Uh, Terry? Do you have a sword or something?” Aloysius shouted into the building.

Terry was out the door like a shot, followed by the mayor and Tulmos both. He hopped from the wooden porch of the shop and looked in the direction Al indicated. There was a large group of somethings coming his way. Curse his timing. There was always something.

“By The One, they’ve come back again,” the shopkeeper said. Terry frowned. This had the makings of a problem.

Tulmos was getting too old for this. Horses sticking their head into his shop and disrupting his work, young men from the wide world showing up, the idiot mayor’s ire over the horse, and now Zindel and his Demon Pigs were back. Elseth was supposed to be a quiet town in the Rushy Glen. That’s why he’d moved here from the capital.

But the giant Demon Pig was walking down the street using his spear as a walking staff. Surrounding him was his “army” of demon pigs. All twenty of them this time. They marched with military precision. Each as ugly as their leader and each as wide as two men. They were seven feet tall if they were an inch. All of them wore the same color green, sweaty undershirts, the same kind of old, dented armor, and the same type of spear. They must have found a supply cache.

The mayor was already running up to meet Zindel as townspeople rushed inside the shops and government buildings. The young man, Terry, followed a short way behind the mayor at his own pace. There was something dangerous in his casualness.

Tulmos should have gone inside himself, but he was tired of this. He was too old for this. Let them see him for what he was. A former horse handler for the army. The talking horse thankfully stayed back by his shop. It had sense when it decided to use it. More than Tulmos did at the moment, anyway.

“Tribute day has come!” Zindel shouted, and lifted his spear high. The army raised their spears in unison and shouted a loud “HOO-RAH!” Even the birds stopped singing at that. Gethwin approached, dry-washing his hands.

“Lord Zindel!” the mayor said with a sickening smile on his face. “I didn’t realize it was tribute day! Surely that’s later in the week?”

The giant pig man leaned forward and got right in the mayor’s face. Tulmos had to unclench his fists. He saw young Terry NOT unclench his fists.

“Are you telling me you DON’T have my payment for your protection, mayor?” the pigman grunted.

“It’s not that! It’s just that I’ll just have to organize everything. It may take some time.”

“What do they protect you from?” Terry asked, which stopped the mayor in his tracks. He stared at Terry in surprise. He hadn’t even realized the young man had followed him. Tulmos leaned toward Terry.

“You’re going get yourself killed like that, boy. Or us. You, I’m not as concerned about. No offense,” he said. The young man chuckled.

Zindel straightened his bulk and laughed. A moment later, his army laughed with him. All at once.

“Why, I protect them from ME, whelp!” the monster shouted.

Terry did not flinch. He looked around the town and then back at the army. They all stood at attention.

“You haven’t done anything yet. They’ve actually paid you?” the strange young man asked.

Zindel saw Terry watching his army and to Tulmos’s surprise, Zindel looked nervous. Suddenly, the pigmen in the army started muttering to each other. Tulmos couldn’t make out individual words though. Just mumbles.

“Of course we pay him!” the mayor said. “I will not have my people murdered by an army of brutish-UH-fearsome pigmen!” With that, the mayor ran to the nearest building and pounded on the door, demanding this week’s tribute.

Tulmos watched as Terry approached one of the pigmen. It sneered at him. To Tulmos’s shock, Terry poked the thing in the arm and nodded.

“Something wrong, boy?” Zindel said, rounding on him. “Something bother you about my men?”

Terry walked up to the pigman and looked into his eyes. The boy was brave, Tulmos could give him that. Brave, but foolish.

“You,” Terry said, “are a bully.”

Tulmos thought even the wind stopped blowing. The mayor had started running to another building, but Terry’s statement had stopped the man. Zindel’s brow furrowed. He stepped back just enough to bend and get right in the young man’s face.

“Yes. Yes I am. And what are you going to do about it, little man?!” he shouted.

Before Tulmos could register what happened, Terry had whipped his arm back and punched Zindel right in his piggy forehead. The pigman went flying backward and skidded to a halt on his back in the middle of the street. As soon as he hit, the army that Tulmos had been sure would kill the boy simply vanished.

The mayor ran into the street and waved his arms like an idiot, apparently thinking they’d gone invisible. Terry walked up, stood on Zindel’s chest, grabbed his horns, and gave a mighty pull. The head came clean off. Tulmos ran up. There was just no way this was happening.

It was a mask! Terry threw the thing down. Tulmos saw an old man’s head sticking out of the neck of the monster. The young man reached down to the neck hole and heaved. He pulled the chest open with a terrible squeal of metal.

As Terry lifted the man out by the collar, Tulmos stared.

“Weatherby!” he shouted.

“You know him?” Terry asked. Gethwin staggered up beside Tulmos.

“He was the former mayor! I won the last election against him,” Gethwin said, wiping sweat from his face. “How did you know?”

“First off,” Terry said, “there was sweat on the shirt collars.”

“So?” Tulmos asked. “There’s sweat on all of us.”

Terry smiled.

“They’re pigmen. They shouldn’t have been sweating at all.” Tulmos slapped his forehead. He felt like a fool. He knew both animals and monsters and had missed it.

Guards finally came running up and Terry hopped down and handed the old man over to them. Weatherby began waking up.

“And the army?” Tulmos asked. He couldn’t help grinning now. “What was all that about?” Terry smiled back.

“Duplication spell. It makes hard light duplicates of the caster. I fought a necromancer once in Yazoo that tried that crap. You have to concentrate to control them and keep them summoned.” He got right in Weatherby’s face. “I dealt with him the same way.”

“But why?!” Mayor Gethwin asked Weatherby, who was now fully awake.

“Mining, you brain-dead idiot!” Weatherby shouted. “I was working with a mining consortium in the capital when I lost that election. I figured if I ran everyone off I could move in and turn this into a company town for them. But you were all too stupid and stubborn to run. I still could have gotten away with it too if it weren’t for this boy!”

Terry groaned. Tulmos wasn’t sure why. The boy turned and saw people coming out of the buildings now and they were all beginning to talk about what had happened. They’d seen. Good. Tulmos hoped people would remember this. Terry tapped a guard on the arm before they left.

“Can I have just a moment before you haul him off?”

The guards looked at the mayor, who didn’t seem to know what to do. They nodded anyway. Terry took on a hard look and old man Weatherby swallowed.

“I’m on a quest right now, but if you don’t think I’ll come back here to check on this town? You’re wrong. Because this is what I do to bullies. I stop them.”

Terry pulled a sword from inside his coat and the blade glowed brightly, even in the daylight. The mayor staggered back and Tulmos watched in awe. Terry walked to look inside the suit.

“Well?” Tulmos asked.

“Levers, pulleys, runes on everything. It’s a powered suit,” the boy said. He raised his sword over his head with both hands. As he brought the blade down it grew and cut the suit cleanly in half. The blade stopped glowing and Terry put the sword away before turning back to Weatherby, Tulmos, and the mayor.

“I always come back when I’m needed,” Terry said. The guards seemed to take that as a dismissal from the young man and escorted Weatherby away.

“Will… will you stay for a time?” the mayor asked. “We can hold a feast tonight in your honor.”

“No,” Terry said simply. “I’ve got something to be about. Besides, you need to rebuild your stores if you’ve been giving them to that idiot for weeks.”

The mayor looked like he’d been slapped and Tulmos stood there with his arms crossed. He hadn’t stopped smiling. For a while Tulmos had been toying with the idea of running for mayor after the last two elections. He thought he might stand a chance in the nine hells of winning it after this.

“Well, if you’re determined to leave,” Tulmos said, “and you still need the riding equipment, I can probably see my way to giving you a discount.”

Terry scratched the back of his head and lowered his eyes.

“You don’t have to do that, Mister Tulmos. I’m not in this for reward.”

Tulmos finally frowned. Bloody heroes.

“This isn’t a reward. We’ll consider it a trade. Goods for services. You make up the difference with your gold.”

“That,” Terry said, “I think I can do, sir.”

Previous Chapter

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Find A Grave

Terry felt like he’d walked for hours by the time the little dead man, Danal, helped him find a road. It was a wide, hard packed dirt affair running through a cleared path in the woods. It had probably begun as a game trail like the Natchez Trace back home. The fact that Terry hadn’t seen it from his hilltop vantage point meant it was either extremely well hidden, or further away than he’d thought. He saw signs of cart wheels and horseshoes as soon as he stepped foot on the thing. He glanced over his shoulder at the foul smelling little man he carried.

“Well, which way?” he asked. He realized it was the first time he’d spoken to the dead man.

The little creature looked left and right, then seemed to think far longer than necessary.

“Uh, right?” Danal said.

“You don’t sound sure.”

“Don’t question me,” the little man said.

Terry shrugged, which was not easy with a small corpse on his back. He started trudging up the road. Terry hoped the little jerks that had done this to him would give him his saddlebags back after this. They were only marginally lighter than Danal, but they didn’t smell so bad. They also contained, if he remembered correctly, some beef jerky he’d stashed. He’d need something to eat eventually.

After a long while of walking, Terry spoke over his shoulder again.

“So where exactly am I taking you?” he asked.

“FINALLY the boy decides to start thinking,” Danal said. “There are several burial sites where we dump-ENTOMB our dead. You’re taking me to each one in turn until you find one where I’ll be accepted.”

Terry’s head jerked up.

“Are you telling me it’s full of the talking dead? You’re going to have roommates?!”

Terry felt a cold and entirely too firm hand smack him on the side of the head.

“Respect for the dead, boy!”

“Fine. Sorry. Humans just don’t do that. When we’re gone, we’re gone.”

“Well,” Danal said, “we’re different. We don’t actually give up the ghost until the body is too rotted to hold it. Parts stop working, sure, but we’re stuck here till the body can’t hold on any more. Burial helps with that.”

Terry swallowed hard. The idea of being awake but dead, then shoved in the ground and buried wasn’t something he’d ever been afraid of. Well, there was a first time for everything, he guessed. The living dead gave him the heebie-jeebies.

The journey took several hours, and Danal kept up a running commentary on his minor aches and pains from life. He didn’t feel them any more, but he remembered them fondly. He also had opinions on almost every race of what Terry knew as “Fantastics”. Terry guessed he’d have to stop thinking of them like that now. He was in their world.

“So racism is a thing here too?” Terry asked testily, interrupting some choice thoughts Danal had about gnomes.

“It’s not racism if it’s true,” the tiny dead man said.

Terry stopped in the road and instinctively tried to turn and face him. All he did was spin in the road a few times before finally just looking over his shoulder.

“Listen to me, you horrid little man,” Terry said. “I may be stuck doing this, but I am NOT going to put up with your bigoted talk any more. I WILL lay down, face up, in the river until sunrise tomorrow and sacrifice my manhood JUST to teach you a lesson. Do you understand me?”

Something in Terry’s tone of voice must have sunk in because when Danal spoke again, it was a bit more meekly.

“Right. Sorry. I thought most humans hated other races.”

Terry squared his shoulders and started walking at a brisk pace. “Yeah, well I’m not most humans.”

“Huh. Well aren’t you hero material then.”

That warning didn’t shut Danal up though. He had plenty of reasons to hate individuals too, and he told Terry about them all. In detail.

By the time Danal directed Terry to a lane leading off to the right, it was midday and Terry saw an ancient, stone church. It was built like a church at least. There was greenery carved around the double doors and a foliate face over it. Greenman worship. Terry would have to get used to that too. Off to the left was a graveyard surrounded by a low stone wall. Terry thought it was picturesque.

He actually pulled his phone out and took a photo. Maybe he could magically charge the thing some day. With that thought, he turned the thing off and pocketed it again.
He walked around to the graveyard without prodding and found a shovel leaned against the wall of the church. Or maybe it was a spade, Terry wasn’t sure. It had a pointed end though, so it would work. He walked out to the center of the graveyard and looked around. There was no where obvious for the little corpse. He looked over his shoulder.

“Any particular spot suit your fancy?” he asked the dead old man.

Danal pointed over Terry’s shoulder and directed him to a shaded corner with no headstones. The shade tree was outside of the wall, so hopefully the roots wouldn’t be a problem. Knowing how his day was going though, Terry didn’t have much hope of that. He walked over to the corner and looked around. There was nothing that said someone was buried in the corner already, so Terry just grabbed the shovel in both hands.

“Let’s be done with this, then.” He stabbed the point of the shovel into the ground.

As soon as he did, a loud thrum seemed to come from where the shovel hit, and ripple outward. Terry looked around confused for a moment before he heard Danal say “Uh-oh.”

A corpse in a wooden mask with a ponytail dressed like a monk climbed from a grave not far from him. Terry found himself backed up against the surrounding wall of the yard as hands, heads, and a few feet erupted out of graves and began dragging bodies with them. Usually. Sometimes it was just the body parts.

The wooden mask fell off of the corpse. Its lips were dried and pulled back from the teeth and Terry nearly screamed when the mouth opened and a sound came out.

“Hi. I’m Shal,” it said. Terry opened his mouth but only a gurgle came out.

“NOOOO!” screamed the next corpse. So did the next. And the next. And the next.

Before Terry knew what he was doing, he’d pulled the shovel out of the ground and thrown it like a javelin at a dead woman that was almost completely free of the ground.

The head came off, but was still screaming “NO” as it flew through the air.

“You might want to move on,” the monk corpse said to him cheerfully.

Terry didn’t realize he was running down the road until he was a good distance away from the church.

“Dang, boy. You’re a fast one! You might get this done after all!” Danal said as Terry slowed again to a brisk walk. That necromancer in Yazoo City had been about the most unpleasant thing he’d ever dealt with. The universe seemed to remember that and he wondered if THIS was punishment for forsaking his vows.

The sun was setting by the time Terry reached the next church. It was on the outskirts of a village that he looked at longingly. He didn’t dare go near with a dead man on his back. He had fished around in his pockets of holding and found a protein packed candy bar he had stuffed in there some time in the past. Current Terry thanked past Terry for his kindness before downing the thing. He’d drank from the river near by and it was the cleanest water he’d ever tasted.

But now he shuffled up to the church, and there was no graveyard.

“Dude, seriously?!” he said over his shoulder. Danel looked around.

“Welp,” the wee folk said, “under the altar it is.”

This was a much larger church than the last one, and Terry was extremely concerned about someone being there and walking in. He didn’t know when services were. He carefully opened the door and the creaking sound it let out made him wince. He slipped in quietly and shut the door behind him.

The interior of the church was dark so Terry had to pull his sword out for light. It gave off a clean, steady, white glow and he walked down the aisle to the altar. The alter itself was massive and was made of a dark, rich wood. It was carved like a wide tree with a face in the center of the foliage. It was beautiful. Terry felt along the carving and it was smooth. The wood had been sanded to the point that he couldn’t feel the grains.

“Push it back, then. We don’t have all night.”

Terry grumbled at Danal’s interruption, but nodded. He didn’t want to move this thing. He was afraid of breaking it. He gave it a test shove and it moved easily for him. He laid his sword down and it continued it’s steady glow. He hadn’t been sure it would.

He pushed the altar back and beneath were just more stones like the ones lining the floor. When he tested the stones, they wouldn’t move. Reaching over, Terry picked up his sword and traced the blade tip around the largest stone he could find. The point went between the them and sliced cleanly, which made him smile. Once done, Terry pried the stone up with the blade, then took it in both hands and lifted the thing up and set it aside. There, beneath the stone, was an even older corpse of one of the wee folk. It still had its hat and coat on, but had a long beard attached to a head that looked like a skull wrapped in leather.

Terry leaped up and took a step back. He glanced over his shoulder at Danal.

“Oliver?” the dead man asked over Terry’s shoulder.

The buried body’s head snapped up at the mention of the name.

“Danal?!” it asked. “You finally kicked the bucket, huh?”

“This is great!” Terry said. “You guys know each other! You can bunk up!”

“Not happening,” Oliver said, and Terry blinked.

“Why not?” he asked, and Oliver looked at Danal, though there were no eyes in the sockets.

“Bastard owes me ten gold and never paid me back.”

Terry just stared at him.

“It was FIVE gold and I gave it back with interest, you old goat!” Danal shouted into the hole in the floor.

Terry laughed. It wasn’t funny, but he laughed anyway.

“YOU CAN’T SPEND GOLD!” he shouted. “You’re dead and buried! What does it matter if he didn’t pay it back?!”

The buried corpse managed to lift itself up on its elbows to look up at Terry with its empty sockets. It moved like old stop motion.

“It’s the principal of the thing, damn it.”

Terry felt his eyebrow twitch.

“Dang it, Danal,” he said. lifting the stone over his head and staring at Oliver.

“You might want to lay down,” Terry told the buried Gentry.

Oliver moved far more quickly than Terry thought he could and was laying down before Terry slammed the rock back into place.

“Not my fault,” Danal said. “There was no way I could know he was buried here.”

Terry sighed and marched out of the church. He stood on the hard packed path outside the door and took a moment to let himself be angry. He breathed deeply and then looked over his shoulder.

“Ok,” he said, feeling a bit better, “where to now?”

The next church had another gambling buddy of Danal’s under the altar that refused to even look at the little dead man. Right before he left, Terry noticed a small sack sitting on the front pew with a note tied to it. It had his name written crudely in charcoal. Inside was dried, cured meat and a banana. It wasn’t much but by this point, Terry was famished. He ate all of it quickly and set out with renewed vigor.

Terry had no way of knowing how long he’d walked, but he knew it had been hours. The sun wasn’t up, but there was a look to the sky that made Terry begin to sweat. Time was growing short. He stopped at the fourth church Danal pointed out and gave it a doubtful look. It had a graveyard. Terry let himself through the wooden gate in the stone wall and quietly made his way around to the yard. There was, again, a shovel waiting.

Terry put the point of the shovel into the ground and waited. There was no thrum. No ripple of bad vibes. Nothing started crawling up. There was no strangely friendly monk. He sighed with relief and scooped up the first load of dirt.

After the fourth scoop, Terry became aware of a rising murmur. He looked to the road and there was an orange glow lighting up the leaves of the trees along one side. Terry planted the shovel and ran to get a better look.

“Ah dang,” Danal said and Terry looked at him in confusion.

“What?!” Terry asked.

“I think news has gotten around. Someone sent runners or something.”

Terry stared hard. He could make out a mass of people. They carried torches. Several had pitchforks.

“Huh,” Terry said. He felt oddly calm. “I’ve never been run off by an actual torch-and-pitchfork mob before.”

“I have. I’d start running. We’ve got one more option before the sun comes up, boy.”

Terry didn’t waste his breath answering. He just leaped over the short stone wall and ran as fast as he could.

Aloysius was a curious horse, in both senses of the word. He was both a strange horse AND he had a natural curiosity that had gotten him into trouble on more than one occasion. This occasion in particular had him stuck in a magic bog near the River Skai. His feet were exactly where they had been at sunset and he was, it seemed, sinking. Just very slowly. Aloysius was also an optimistic horse. He was still within sight of the road and surely someone would be along any time.

Speaking of, Aloysius looked up as he heard the rapid footfalls of someone coming. He craned his neck forward and saw a distant shape wearing a big, flappy coat coming closer at a fantastic speed. As it got closer, Aloysius decided to call out.

“Excuse me! I seem to be...”

The man, at least he thought it was a man, kept running without looking. He was in a hurry it seemed.

“Right. I’ll just wait here then. I’m sure you’ll be back.”

Aloysius blinked as he felt the mud creep up his legs as he dropped another inch. He laughed at his own position.

“I mean, I can’t do much else? Can I?”

Yes. He’d wait. The man would come back and he would surely help a friendly horse out of a bog.

Probably.

Terry skidded to a stop. He was on a cliff overlooking a vast plain below him. The cliff had scant grass on it and vague mound shapes all over. He looked over his shoulder.

“YES!” the old corpse shouted. “This is it! You’ve got minutes left!”

Terry looked around but there was no shovel. He groaned. This was never going to be easy, but of course it would be down to the wire. Terry dropped to his knees and began digging frantically with his hands. The earth was densely packed and hard, but Terry wasn’t soft himself. He summoned more strength and started ripping huge clumps of soil up by the handful. He tossed it not too far away and eventually had a pit about three feet deep.

“Good enough!” Danal said, and climbed over Terry’s shoulder. The feeling of the rotted skin and clothing was sickening. The smell of the old man was worse. Danal fell face first into the hole and curled into a fetal position. Right as Terry grabbed the first hand full of dirt to start throwing it in, the old man shouted “WAIT!”

Terry froze, but all Danal did was pluck the white owl feather from his cap and hold it up.

“Give it to Humphrey or this was all for nothing! Ya did good, boy.”

Terry snatched the feather, stuffed it in his coat pocket, and began tossing dirt in. He rose as the last clod settled. He looked, the sun was almost risen. He started jumping on the mound he’d made to pack it in better. He had it just about level when the sun rose over the plains and Terry saw his first yellow skied sunrise. He just stood there and watched it.

“I did it,” he said. It felt so good to say, he sighed and said it again. “I did it, Delores.”

He felt exhausted and he was completely alone again.

There was a slight rustling, and when Terry turned, his bags were there in the grass. Standing atop them, was Humphrey of the Wee Folk. Terry stumbled over and dropped to his knees in front of the little man.

“You left the food?” Terry asked between ragged breaths.

“I did. Couldn’t have you passing out and losing your balls, could we?”

Terry went to say something, but Humphrey spoke again.

“We also spread the word of what you were doing. Couldn’t make it too easy either.”

Terry just stared at him. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to have learned something about humility from this, or what. All he’d learned was to avoid these little men like the plague. He considered swatting Humphrey away, but that was another lesson Terry had learned. Don’t mess with these guys. Instead, Terry reached into his pocket and pulled the white feather out. He looked at it for a moment before holding it out to Humphrey. The little man smirked and took it, twisting it in his hand and examining it.

“Huh. Even got the feather,” Humphrey said. “I’m impressed.”

Terry’s curiosity got the better of him. “What do you do with them?”

Humphrey arched an eyebrow.

“There are some things, my lad, you do not talk about in public.”

Terry just nodded. He was ready to lay down and sleep right there.

“So, you succeeded in your task which, I won’t lie, is pretty impressive.” Humphrey said, sticking his thumbs behind his suspenders. “As such, I’ve stuffed a sack of gold in your travel bags there.”

Terry’s eyes nearly popped out of his head.

“AND,” the little man added, “what I was meant to direct you to? Head back down the road the way you came. You’ll know it when you see it. Don’t sleep too late. With this, my task is complete. I’ll see you around, haircut.”

With that, the little man leaped into the air and just faded away. Terry fell forward, face first into his saddlebags. He faded away too, into dreams of Delores.

Next Chapter

Previous Chapter

For Fear of Little Men

Elton,
I purchased these journals in a village not long after I arrived here. I miss you, man. I’ve decided to keep my own Chronicles here in the Everywhen for you. I don’t know that you’ll ever see these, but writing this gives me hope that you might in the future.
I guess if your Chronicles leading up to my departure could be considered book one, then this is book two. My travels in the Everywhen. I hope that some day after this is all over I can send these along with a gnome or an elf and have them delivered to you. I’m not a writer, Elton. I’m not even going to pretend these chronicles are going to be up to your standards. But I want to do my best to give you something. A parting gift. Something to remember me by. I can’t explain how much I wish I could hand deliver them to you myself, how much I wish you’d come with me because I don’t know that I’ll ever come back. This may be home now, for a lot of reasons.
I’m not alone here now, but I miss you. I miss the three of us traveling and trying to do something good for the world. I miss the quiet times. I miss the life I hadn’t even had a chance to build before it all went wrong.
I want you to know that I think about you often, my friend. Know that you’re loved, regardless of what you tell yourself. I’ve begun to realize that the things we tell ourselves, and the things we believe, are just ways to limit ourselves. We’re terrified of what we could be without those limits.
But without those limits, you ARE a good man, Elton Beasley. One of the best, and it has been an honor to know you.
Love,
T.

Terry Lingal, the Errant Apprentice, stepped out of a hole in the air into the magical realm known as the Everywhen. He glanced back for one last look at Elton and his home world, trying to give Elton a reassuring smile, but he wasn’t sure it worked. He would probably never know if it had. The gateway snapped shut and Terry was alone standing beneath a yellow sky. He had made his choice.

His purpose in life had been taken from him over the last few days. Until that morning he had been in training to become a knight for the Order of St. George the Dragon Slayer. He had taken the vows to join that Order as a child, scarcely knowing the truth behind the words he had spoken. Just that morning he had renounced them. He was going to be something else. Something new. But he’d also lost the reason he had renounced those vows. Delores Cody. His mage, his partner, and the woman he loved. She’d been taken from him and sent to this new world. He’d vowed to her that he would survive for her. He’d vowed he would always return to her. Terry kept his vows.

Behind where the portal had been was a massive valley, and through that valley a river snaked its way along, turning to pass the hills he found himself in. He thought he saw cleared land along that river but he couldn’t be sure from this distance. He turned to look at the mountain that had drawn his eye before entering the portal, and he did not like it one bit. For one thing, it was a single mountain on its own, not part of a range, and was surrounded by foothills on all sides. It was on one of these that Terry found himself. The mountain was covered in geometric shaped boulders. Cubes, spheres, cones, pyramids, and at least a dozen shapes Terry couldn’t name with his limited education. But the worst part of the mountain were the holes. The mountain was honeycombed with holes and a thick fog poured out of the lowest of them, filling the space between the foothills. It gave the entire landscape an otherworldly feel, which was appropriate now that he came to that.

The sight of it was what made him truly realize how much his life had just changed and how much he had just lost. He’d now lost his best friend, his lover, his future, and his home, all in the time it took to boil an egg. He sat down hard on the ground, dropping his saddle bags and his sword, and the tears came. Any anger at the forces that moved his life had fled and he was just left with the loss now. That and the impossibility of his task.

He had no idea how he was supposed to find Delores. He didn’t know if he was near where she had come through, and there was no telling how much time had passed. Months, possibly years. She could be dead. She could be an old woman now. What would he do if that was the case? And what if he never found her? This was an entirely new world that he’d been told was larger than Earth. The hopelessness of it all sapped his strength and his will to continue.

Terry shook his head.

“No,” he said out loud. “NO, damn you. You’re not ending like this. You’re not your father. Get up.”

He stood back up and looked to the river, which was the easier choice of the two directions. It was away from that fog. He didn’t have time to fall apart now. Elton said that people admired him because he tried. Well, it was past time to try.

Terry sheathed his sword into his inside coat pocket of holding and started work on his saddle bags. He spent some time arranging them and the straps until he had something he could use as a backpack. He smiled at it. Progress. Not much, but it was something. You had to celebrate the small victories.

He put his makeshift backpack on and set out toward the forest and the river.

After descending the hill, he decided his best bet was to make toward that cleared spot and hope to find a settlement of some kind. He wasn’t sure what kind of creatures would be in these lands, but he tended to get on well with Fantastics, particularly goblins. He liked goblins. Sometimes more than humans. Whatever they were though, he could start asking if they’d seen a bald female mage or had heard of one. Wherever D was, she had probably managed to draw some attention to herself.

“Maybe she’s been waiting for me,” Terry said quietly, and smiled. He’d find her. She was the only thing he had left to hold to.

The forest was thicker and greener than any forest he’d ever walked in back home. It felt untouched by humanoid hands and it made him nervous as well. Everything in the Everywhen seemed to be making him nervous.

Terry stopped walking. He abruptly realized he wasn’t in the wide world any more. There was no Church to hide from. There was no threat of clerics, and no social stigma of being a knight AND a magic user. Terry could, for the very first time, be exactly who and what he was, and it was time to do so. He inhaled, and as he did he drew mana into himself. He thought of it as mana this time. Not his “will” as he always had before. There was no point in lying to himself any more. He nearly filled himself and he became aware of just how long that took. Delores had said he was frighteningly strong, and he’d somehow grown recently. Then Terry actually felt the mana inside him.

Delores had also that said as you held mana you could feel its desire to be used, but not what to do with it. It had always made him giddy and active, but that was the worst of it. The mana in the Everywhen felt different. He could feel ITS will. It knew its purpose. To create. To heal. He felt the need to commit great acts. To move the world. He immediately let most of it drain out of him. The need was terrible. He kept enough to do the things he normally did. No more, no less. The purpose remained, but as a buzzing in the back of his mind, something he could ignore for a time.

Terry usually ignored the web of mana that spread over the world as well, but now he watched it closely. It pulsed around him in response to life and he could tell he was surrounded by living things. He couldn’t tell anything beyond that, so he shrugged and set off again. He watched and listened as hard as he could. He was still extremely nervous about this place.

“Well looky here! Got us a big fella!” a voice said from somewhere. Terry kept himself calm and didn’t spin around in a panic. He carefully scanned the area, but couldn’t see anyone. There was no way he could have missed a grown man approaching him, was there?

“Over here, haircut!” the voice spoke again, and this time Terry turned toward it. Standing on a tree stump was a tiny man.

He was maybe three or four inches high and dressed in rustic clothes with a green coat, and a red Smurf-hat. Sticking out of that hat was a white feather. The little man was tanned and had sandy blond hair. His pointed ears reminded Terry of elves or goblins. The little man seemed to preen under his attention, almost like a cat.

“And who might you be when you’re at home, big-job?” the little man asked.

Terry blinked. “Are you a gnome?”

The little man stared at him. “Do I have a tobacco stained beard and look like I go around collecting garbage? Guess again.”

Terry shook his head. “I’m sorry. That was rude.” He knelt down low and held a finger out. The little man seemed to get the idea and shook Terry’s finger. “I’m Terry. I’m here from the wide world. What’s your name?”

“Well! You’re a trusting soul, aren’t ya!” The man said. “You can call me Humphrey, Master Terry. I believe I’m here to give you directions.”

Terry smiled. Maybe his luck was changing.

“That’s great! Can I ask something first?”

“I suppose,” the little man said warily.

“I’m a student of what we call Fantastics back home and I’ve never actually seen your kind. Are you a faerie?”

Humphrey gave Terry a flat look. “I believe you meant Tuatha de Danann.”

Terry tried to repeat the word in his head and after the third attempt, gave up.

“I kinda think I meant faerie.”

The little man walked to the edge of the stump and the smile on his face had lost all friendliness. It was the look of an irate waiter trying to keep his job.

“Perhaps,” Humphrey said in clipped words, “you meant the Wee Folk. Or the Gentry. Maybe the Good Folk, and not that... that OTHER thing you said.”

Terry was off his game and the Fae had never been a focus of his readings.

“Nope. I’m pretty sure I meant faerie.”

“Oh, that’s it!” the little man said. He leaped into the air and punched Terry in the face with the force of a truck, and he went flying before skidding to a halt on his stomach. He tried to lift himself up, but he felt the full weight of a man standing on his back and somehow holding him down. He felt his backpack stripped from him and tossed to the side. Then a pair of tiny feet walked up his back. Try as he might, he couldn’t get up.

“I tried to be a good member of the Gentry,” Humphrey said. “I was gonna do like the Court said and guide you to something useful. Well now you are straight up FUCKED, me old beauty.”

Terry felt a foot kick his head hard enough to force his face into the dirt.

“Going to the privy?” Humphrey said. “I’m stealing the toilet paper. Got a cookie?” Another kick to the head. “THOSE WON’T BE CHOCOLATE CHIPS, PALLIE!”

Suddenly, Terry felt the little man pause and he heard something in the wind. A whisper at the edge of hearing. When he turned his head just enough, he saw Humphrey listening to that wind. Did everyone hear voices and Terry had just never paid attention?

The little man sighed. “Fine. FINE. I can’t torment you. Not as much as I’d like. You’ve got something to be about. BUT, I AM allowed to punish you for using the “F” word,” Humphrey said before cupping his hands and shouting, “BRING OUT THE HONORED DEAD!”

“Wait, what?!” Terry shouted. He heard more tiny footsteps and when he looked in the direction of the mountain, a troop of faeries, wee folk, whatever appeared. They were all dressed like Humphrey. They were also carrying a corpse.

It was dressed like them, but was the size of a toddler. Terry blinked. Then the thing’s head lifted and Terry’s skin tried to crawl backwards off of his body.

“Are we leaving yet?” the corpse asked.

Terry heard screaming and it took a moment to realize it was him doing it. He hadn’t realized he’d started. He hated the undead and this thing was certainly undead. It looked dead. The eyes were the milky white of a corpse’s eyes and didn’t move. The skin was ashen. It had an... odor. Terry tried to climb up to run and nearly made it, but Humphrey jumped up and came down on his back so hard it forced him back down.

“OH NO YOU DON’T!” the Wee Folk said, and Terry could hear the grin in his voice. “We have specifically been given permission to do this.”

Terry laid there and felt himself shaking as the giant, tiny, dead person was placed on his back. The thing gripped him tightly through his duster. He thought the fingers and heels might be digging into the armor underneath. It hung on as if it were a part of him.

Terry finally managed to struggle to his feet. He tried taking his duster off and running but it had become attached to him. He tried shaking the body off, but it wouldn’t budge. It weighed a ton.

“What is this?!” Terry shouted down at the troop of faeries.

“Oh!” Humphrey said. “It’s simple, bright boy! Danal there is dead! You have to take him to holy ground for us and bury him! If you don’t do it by sunrise tomorrow...” Humphrey trailed off and thought for a moment. “uh, we’ll cut your balls off!” The rest of the troop nodded sagely.

Terry screamed in anger and started trying to stomp the little men, but one of them swept the leg and knocked him to the ground. Terry sprung back up and looked around. They’d all vanished.

“They couldn’t be serious,” he said to himself.

“Oh, they’re serious,” the corpse said suddenly. Terry felt his hair stand on end. “And if you don’t mind I’d rather have this done sooner than later.”

Terry took a minute to compose himself. He was letting his emotions get away with him. He took a deep breath. The stink of death settled into his lungs and he nearly threw up right there. As he straightened, he felt the massive weight of the corpse bounce on his back.

“Giddy-up,” Danal said. Terry grumbled and set off in the direction the little corpse indicated with a finger.

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Prologue

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Prologue: Everywhen

There are many worlds along the Axis Mundi, but the Everywhen wasn’t like those other worlds. It was closer to the One, the source of all life and existence. It was a favorite of the One and because of that it lived. It could feel, and it could think after a fashion. But ever since the Sin it had been injured. It was broken. It hadn’t thought. It had only felt and all it could feel was pain.

One day, the Everywhen had been given a gift. It was given freely and with an open heart, and that gift had begun the process of healing. For the first time since the Sin, the Everywhen was aware that it was hurting, and that hurting had lessened. It still wasn’t whole, but it was awake.

During its long and painful slumber, the Everywhen couldn’t tell stories. That was what it was meant to do, because stories build lives. The Everywhen was meant to create. It hadn’t been able to for such a long time that patterns had emerged instead, but patterns were not stories. They felt like stories to the beings that lived them, but they were not truly stories. Stories taught and comforted. Stories guided people. Patterns were merely tracks to follow. They didn’t live. Patterns were like rivers. Stories were like a flood.

The Everywhen knew what it needed to be healed of the Sin. The wondrous gift had been a part of it, and the other piece it needed would come. The Everywhen could sense that other piece out there in the lower worlds, so it just had to have patience. It had nothing but time. It slowed itself to keep pace with that piece as it tried desperately to keep up with the Everywhen. The something of the piece reached and grasped desperately. The Everywhen was patient, but it now felt anticipation for the moment.

The beings that called the Everywhen home felt that anticipation build for months. The elves became giddy without knowing why and began celebrations that none of them could explain to the other races. The dwarves became anxious and insular as the sense of waiting ground on them like the weight of their mountain homes. The orcs prepared for something they couldn’t explain, and readied their defenses in case of an attack. Even the short lived humans felt it, and the humans normally ignored anything that was not of themselves. The feeling reached a fever’s pitch. The entire world seemed to vibrate with it.

Then, one day, in the foothills of the Airy Mountain, a sword blade pierced the air on a hilltop. The Everywhen would have held its breath if it had breath to hold. Instead, the wind in the foot hills stilled. While it was unique, the Everywhen knew this blade. It glowed and had cut its way through from somewhere else. It sat there, hanging in the air. The anticipation became dreadful. The entire world felt like it wanted to scream.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the sword blade was dragged down and a glowing rip became a hole to one of the lower worlds. The wide world. In that world was exactly what the Everywhen knew it needed.

The Everywhen sighed, and that sigh became a warm wind that passed through the portal and cut a chill there. It found and caressed what it felt on the other side. Its salvation. It was actually there. For a long moment, nothing happened and the Everywhen experience impatience for the first time, but then it heard something.

A vow.

Vows were sacred things. They had been set down by the Many to bind the soul to a course of action. Vows were not taken lightly. The Everywhen sent the wind again to caress the one who swore, and to let them know that the vow had been heard. This vow, in particular, was sacred and the Everywhen shuddered to witness it.

Finally, a man stepped through that hole in the air. The Everywhen felt power in the being. That being was the answer. The Everywhen tried to close the portal, but the man held it open and looked back through it at his home for a final time. Then, the man allowed the Everywhen to close the way. Doors were dangerous things. The Everywhen knew that, but this was a Moment. Moments were allowed to breathe. The man stood on the hill by the Airy Mountain and looked out over the Everywhen. The world calmed. The anticipation was finally over. It was time. The Everywhen knew that it was time to heal. Stories could teach and heal. Now, with the other half there, it was finally time for a new story to begin. . .

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BOOK 1: Mo Ghile Mear

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• ????? - The One discovers loneliness and becomes the Three, then the Many.

• ????? - The Many experience loneliness and lay the Song Lines as the foundations of reality and the world is made.

• ????? - The Many enter the world as the All and Time begins.

• 10,000 B.C.E. (approximate) - The Sin is committed. The Oak King murders the May Queen in an attempt to gain power and remake reality. He is banished to the realm known as the wide world to die and the Everywhen is sealed by the Greenman, cutting magic off from lower worlds and trapping the Oak King, now called Jack in the Leaves.

• 33 C.E. - Paul discovers an ailing Jack and founds the Church with his guidance.

• ????? - The White Throne is discovered or created and prolongs Jack’s life. Details are scant.

• 1057 C.E. - Jack successfully bridges the Eastern-Western Schism and the Church remains whole.

• October, 1517 C.E. - Martin Luther nails his 95 Theses calling for reformations. At Jack’s insistence, the reformations are enacted and there is no Protestant Reformation.

• May, 1945 C.E. - Jack finds a young orphan boy named Conti in the aftermath of WWII and takes him in.

• February 27, 1975 C.E. - The Awakening occurs. The ways between worlds are opened with limitations allowing magic to return to the lower worlds and for the races of the Everywhen to begin the Migration.

• 1975 - 1977 C.E. - Human society goes into panic until Jack orchestrates the founding of The Order of St. George the Dragon Slayer to police the new Fantastics and protect humanity from the more dangerous beastial races. The elves acting as advisors create the “Civilized Races Law” giving elves and dwarves human rights. All other races are classified as Mobs.

• 1977 - 2000 C.E. - The Order becomes a force in human society with a mixed reputation. Their usefulness is undeniable but their methods are questionable.

• January, 1995 C.E. - Glen and Ernest Lingal begin training as Squires along with several others who would rise to fame.

• May, 1995 C.E - Ernest washes out of training due to physical limitations. Glen’s star continues to rise.

• November 9, 1998 C.E. - Elton Beasly is born.

• 1999 C.E. - Glen and Co. graduate from their time as Errant Apprentices. Glen becomes Knight Protector of Mississippi after months riding with McAlpine’s Cavaliers.

• 2001 C.E. - Glen and Ernest meet Marie and Dottie at a dive bar on Highway 80, west of Jackson. It is love at first sight for the four of them.

• 2003 C.E. - The Lingals both marry in the same year.

• January 25, 2004 C.E. - Terrance Howard Lingal is born.

• March, 2004 C.E. - Marie Lingal is diagnosed with cancer and dies the same month.

• August 14, 2004 C.E. - Glen Lingal allows himself to be killed while defeating a dragon and saving Raymond, MS. Terry is taken in by his Aunt and Uncle.

• June 3, 2005 C.E. - Delores Cody is born.

• 2007 C.E. - Beasley Communications is exposed as a massive Ponzi scheme.

• 2008 C.E. - Thurston Beasley vanishes leaving his family in turmoil.

• Summer, 2014 C.E. - Terry Lingal slays his first dragon by himself. Shortly afterward, he begins isolating himself.

• 2023 C.E. - Delores moves to Biloxi.

• May, 2024 C.E. - Elton graduates from Milsaps College and joins the Order of St. George as a Troubadour.

• March, 2025 C.E. - Elton meets Robert Lawless.

• April, 2025 C.E. - A hurricane hits the Gulf Coast. Delores joins relief efforts.

• June 15, 2025 C.E. - Terry Lingal sets out from Raymond as an Errant Apprentice.

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Redemption

Not many people knew that Robert Lawless had a home. He normally spent so much time on the road or in places he wasn’t welcome. The first thing he’d actually bought with his money as a Knight Protector had BEEN the house. He’d never had a real home before. He’d bought land in the rural regions near his home town of Pickens and he would run back there when things had gotten too hot. Or things had gotten too cool. Every now and again, he’d just come back when he wanted to pretend he had a normal life. He hadn’t updated the decor in decades. He loved it.

But then the Lingal boy had happened. The Order had called him. They’d emailed him. They’d insisted that the boy had no right or authority to do what he’d done. And that was true. But the boy had reached down into Robert Lawless and broken whatever it was that let him do the things he did. The boy HAD the authority because he’d TAKEN the authority and wielded it like a headsman’s ax. And now Robert Lawless couldn’t be Robert Lawless.

He’d come back here again, like he always did, to Pickens. Robert had found a machine shop he could work at for the time being. He had a natural talent with metals. It gave him a way to supplement his nest egg. It gave him something to do while he’d plotted. And plot he had. He’d spent the first two weeks back home planning on finding and killing the Lingal boy, taking his father’s sword, and throwing it in the Mississippi River.

But that was a childish, knee-jerk reaction. Robert knew that. Also, the Kaiju thing in Natchez happened and Robert realized he didn’t stand a chance of taking the boy. Not if he was fighting that far above his weight. As he’d finally started to calm down he had come up with a better plan. He’d find every skeleton in the boy’s closet and throw it out there to the world. He’d ruin the boy’s reputation. No one was innocent, he’d told himself. Everyone had a secret. Some deed they’d done that needed to be hidden. There was always a body somewhere. So every night he’d come home to his musty smelling house, turn on the local NBC affiliate, get on the laptop he’d bought, and start digging into the boy’s history. He was shocked to learn that Terry Lingal had no bodies. If there were secrets, they were well and truly secret.

The first thing that had surprised him about the boy was just how much history there was available. His records went back to age FIVE, which was insane. The details missing from the Order were filled in by Elton Beasley, Robert’s own former Troubadour. Lawless had ground his teeth over that. Elton had a gift with words and Lawless had squandered that talent. At least with Elton, he knew the information would be honest and thorough. He’d treated Elton like shit, but he could admit he respected Elton as a writer.

Robert had read the boy’s life story and he’d felt sick. He hated feeling a kinship with the rotten boy, but the circumstances of their lives were depressingly similar. He hadn’t known Lingal’s mother had died of cancer. He’d known she’d died, but not how. He and Glen had already fallen out at that point. He’d known Marie. She was beautiful, and had drank him under the table twice. He’d thought of trying to steal her away from Glen a couple of times. He knew he hadn’t stood a chance though. She deserved better than cancer, and better than Robert Lawless. Robert could admit the better man HAD won.

All he’d really known about Glen’s fate was that he had died fighting a dragon. He hadn’t realized it was on purpose. Elton painted a vivid picture of a man who’d lost every reason he’d had to live after Marie. Robert could understand that. Especially now. Damn it. He’d liked Glen. He’d always liked Glen. What had he done with his life? How had he let jealousy drive everyone away?

Anyway, the boy had been taken in by an aunt and uncle. Lawless had lived that same history. His father had killed his mother over an affair when Robert was only a year old. Robert had seen him maybe a half a dozen times in his life on brief trips up to Parchman to see him. His father didn’t know him, really, and hadn’t cared about the visits one way or the other. They’d taken him to visit because that’s what was expected of both of them. He’d been taken in by an aunt and uncle. Beasley painted Ernest and Dottie as loving caretakers. Lawless had hated Ernest on sight, the same way he’d started hating Glen.

But that’s where the paths forked for him and Lingal. Robert had seen the circumstances of his life as unfair. Tragedies thrown on a child that hadn’t deserved them. He’d taken knocks. He’d raged. He’d decided there was only one thing to do. Make the world pay for what had been done to him. He would charge in and take what he wanted and needed. It was only fair. The world had made Robert Lawless into what he was. Lawless by name and Lawless by nature his aunt had said. There was really no other way he could have turned out, he’d thought. He was what the world wanted him to be.

Then he’d read about Terry Lingal. Somehow, with the same materials, the boy had come out as something else entirely. The boy had taken all the hurt and pain and loneliness life could throw at him and become something more. Something pure. Something. . .good. Something about that affected Robert so deeply, he’d stopped looking in mirrors that very night. He didn’t want to meet his own eyes. He didn’t like what he saw there.

Finally, one dark night in September, Robert had read the story about the goblin restaurant in Natchez. It had gotten buried in the media because of the kaiju, but Elton gave it pride of place in the boy’s Chronicles. It wasn’t the big adventure that the boy and his party treasured the most. It was this little moment. The small act of kindness that no one was ever going to pay attention to.

He’d driven down there. He’d eaten the food, which was actually really damned good. He’d had some beers. He’d found himself spilling his guts to a goblin bartender that had, in turn, told him about how much the goblins loved the Lingal boy. THE Errant Apprentice. They had an awkward picture of him hanging behind the bar with that bald girl he had with him. Robert had ended up crying on a bench outside with a goblinette with a mohawk telling him dad jokes trying to cheer him up. More had come up afterward. They’d all checked on him. Robert had killed hundreds of goblins. These had tried to take care of him. It made him reconsider everything he’d ever done. He liked these goblins, and they liked him. They didn’t know who he was though. If they did, he’d have been thrown out.

Then there were the quotes, the videos, and the photos in the Chronicles. All the actual things the boy did every day. His lived life, as it were. Little snippets of conversation. Musings on the road. The things Robert had NEVER wanted related to the wide world of his own life. Everything the boy had represented that day in Hilochita had been real. He was knighthood personified and he made the rest of them have to look at who they truly were. What they were, was a joke. A sad joke played on the world itself. They were the comedians and the punchlines. Terry Lingal was what they had turned away from. Terry was the reminder of their failure.

And that was what broke him, in the end. That was why Robert sat there on his 1983 Sears & Roebuck furniture in a dark house staring at his hands. He’d realized that if Terry Lingal was a beacon to guide people to be better, then Robert Lawless was the shadow that beacon cast behind it.

He’d almost ended it several times that week alone. He worked in a machine shop. There were plenty of ways to have an accident. But he hadn’t. No, what had stopped him before, and then stopped him again this night, was one truth. If he died, no one would care. Ok, that wasn’t strictly true, actually. There were at least three towns in the southeast that would actively celebrate news of his demise.

What he’d realized was that he’d be gone, and no one would mourn. He’d done nothing that anyone would remember. Not fondly. He’d be a footnote in someone else’s story. A speed bump on the road to glory. He didn’t want to die like that. So Robert Lawless decided that he would take what years he had left and try to change. Maybe it was too late. It was PROBABLY too late. He didn’t care. He wouldn’t let himself die without trying. If Terry Lingal could run away into the woods full of pain and loss and come back a hero, then there might be some hope left.

He couldn’t be a knight. He knew that. Lingal had planted something inside him that forbade that to him. The idea of even trying terrified him. But there were other things he could try to be. He just didn’t know what yet. He also knew that he couldn’t use a sword any more. He couldn’t trust himself with one. He wasn’t afraid of what he’d do to other people any more. He was afraid of what he’d do to himself.

In the end, he’d made these gauntlets. They were something he’d been thinking of making for years that would look bad-ass with his armor. Then he’d come up with his grand plan. The way he would save himself in his own eyes. He would protect people. He’d do it quietly. He’d do it without fanfare. This wasn’t about popularity and fame any more. This was about being able to look at himself in the mirror without shame again. He could do that. He could be circumspect. He’d done a lot of things on the down low for the Order. The last thing he needed was more of his own pride.

So he’d made the gauntlets. They were leather with copious armor plates and bands. There were studs. There was a large plate on the back of either fist. They managed to look impressive and had a certain modern flair to them, not to toot his own horn for once. They matched his armor.

After that he had gone to Cy. Cy was a disgraced member of the Circle that Lawless had worked with on numerous occasions. He was an enchanter. He’d moved to Mississippi from Kingsport to get away from his own shame. The farthest he could get from Kingsport without a boat. He was technically a wizard, but he still had mage training. Robert had never asked Cy what he’d done to get drummed out of the Circle and Cy had always seemed grateful for that. It hadn’t been hard to convince Cy to work on his gauntlets. He’d only had to say one thing and that had done it.

“Don’t you want to do one last good thing before the end, Cy?”

Robert stood up off of the wooden monstrosity of a couch and walked into his armory. He’d thrown almost everything out, save his armor and these new gauntlets. He’d definitely gotten rid of his tabard. He had an idea of what to replace it with.

He picked the gauntlets up, walked outside into his front yard, and put them on. There was a red glow to the sigils Cy had embedded on the backs of the fists. They looked vaguely like a dragon constellation surrounded by a circle. He flexed the fingers and the fit was perfect. He could acknowledge that he’d done some good work with these. That wasn’t prideful. It was a statement of fact. He had just gotten these back from Cy that morning. This would be his first test.

He held his arms out and then brought them up in front of him. He crossed his arms at the wrists. He concentrated on the word “protect”. Cy had said it didn’t matter what the word was. It could be shield, or save, or safe, or pancakes. Any word would do as long as Robert wanted to protect something. It was the state of mind. Not the words.

A bright and glowing blue shield formed in front of him and when he turned, the shield turned with him. It looked like a barely visible portion of a dome. A dome would have been too much mana, but this would work. Cy said it could stop a Ford pick-up at speed before shattering. It could stop quite a few spells. It could stop quite a few bullets.

Robert smiled and realized it was probably the first time he’d smiled without malice since he was a kid. One more test.

He lowered his arms and the shield vanished. He clenched his fists and then ran toward this one tree at the edge of his property. He’d wanted it gone but the one tree guy he knew wanted something like two grand to remove it. He might be able to take care of it right now.

As soon as he was close enough, Robert jumped forward and swung his fist at the tree. He thought of the idea of stopping something to protect people. Cy had said it would have to be for a good reason. Robert had to pretend the tree was a threat to mankind. His fist hit and nothing happened except that Robert was going to have to take some Tylenol. He shook his hand.

He clenched his fist again and considered that this test would help save people in the long run. That was something he could believe in. That was something true. He pulled his fist back and struck the tree head on. This time, the shield formed in front of his fist and he shattered huge chunks of bark and wood off of it. He hit it four more times and the tree started leaning toward him.

Robert nodded, then gave the falling tree one hit on the right side. It flew to the left and missed his house, landing along the property line. He nodded and smiled again. This would work. This he could do. This would give him a chance to change. To help. To save himself.

He hoped that one day, long after he was gone, Terry Lingal would hear that Robert Lawless had tried to be something better before the end. He just wanted someone, anyone, to be proud of him for once.

***

The End of Book One of the Errant Apprentice

Final Thoughts

Thank you everyone for reading this first book. We’ll be starting back with book two in a week or two. I hope you’ve enjoyed this.

Normally, dedications go at the beginning of a book. If this ever sees print, they will. But for now, I’m going to do this here.

This book, and the two to follow, are dedicated to the people I’ve lost during it’s conception and writing.

For

Robbie Joyce, Ted, and Cindi Hayman

And for Paul Hamblin.

Your love and support during every stage of this story meant the world to me. YOU meant the world to me. There will never be a day where I don’t feel the holes you’ve left in my life. I love you, and I hope that wherever you are, you’re proud of me.

BOOK 2: Everywhen

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A Pot of Trolls

It was late September and things had more or less slowed down in the knighting world. Lonnie called this the beginning of “The Lean Times”. Lance had continued his training. Aurora had been out every day since August. Sometimes she would quietly watch him spar with Lonnie. Lately, she’d asked if she could try using a sword. Lonnie had laughed at her and refused on the grounds that Lance was a special case. Lance had obliged her when Lonnie wasn’t around.

That had been the start of it. Aurora’s brother Miguel had started coming out on Sundays after church. He’d started training with the sword as well. It was awkward trying to train two people when Lance himself was barely above novice, but he did his best. Then other folks from school showed up asking about training. Then from the rest of the county. Out of those, thirteen of them remained and were still coming out on Sundays. Lance told them all about Terry Lingal, The Errant Apprentice. Some of them followed Terry’s socials, but not all. Lance would read from Elton’s blog. He’d show them videos. All of them wanted to be like Terry. Even Lance was surprised.

That was when Lonnie had thrown in the towel and started training everyone. He’d said he wasn’t going to stand by and watch Lance get a bunch of kids killed with second hand training. They were mostly humans, but there was actually a dragonkin in the group named Randril that wanted to be a knight. A dragon wanted to become a knight. Everyone who remained seemed to have a knack for the sword or some form of marshal weaponry. Even Aurora. Especially Aurora. She was out so often she started outpacing everyone but Lance.

Oh, Aurora. Lance found every excuse he could to spend time with her that WASN’T training. He’d driven her to Gulfport for a movie twice. He’d only been pulled over the once. The cop had been very understanding though. He still hadn’t worked up the nerve to kiss her. She hadn’t kissed him either, aside from on the cheek. Part of HIS reason was because she was so pretty. Intimidatingly so. The other reason was because every time they got together and talked, if either of them became remotely quiet and one of them might think about kissing the other, they’d both break into a fit of the giggles. It was awkward, kinda cute, and extremely frustrating. He wouldn’t trade it for the world though. They spent every night talking. Just talking and getting to know each other. He didn’t think he had a crush any more. Lance could describe his feelings as “complicated”.

Lance was stacking junk for Lonnie on a Friday morning. He finished piling the giant off-road tires and heard someone running. Noise carried well out here. He trotted up to the front of the building and it was Aurora. He smiled. Then he frowned. It was Friday. She should be in school. He should too, but he was a special case now. He and his father continually argued about that. He had a tally now. He was a registered Squire.

Aurora barreled into him hard and hugged him. He hugged her back. Gosh, she smelled nice.

“You ok? What’re you doing out here?” He asked. She pulled away.

“Trolls!” She said, half frightened, half excited. “There’s like, six trolls at school! Big ones! They’ve taken over the building and they have the whole school on lock down!”

Lance swallowed.

“How’d you get out?” He asked, suddenly worried she’d put herself in danger.

“I was, uh, I was skipping. I was going to come up her and see you.” She blushed.

That was extremely sweet and any other time he’d be flattered, but he was suddenly more concerned with work.

“I guess I better suit up.” He put his hands on her shoulders. “Do you want a sword?”

“You’d let me help?!” She squeaked.

“Uh, yeah. Gotta get started sometime.” He said with a grin.

Aurora, very suddenly, grabbed him by the head and kissed him. He thought his eyes were going to bug out. She let go and he had to keep his knees from folding. She was blushing furiously and had a giant grin on her face.

“I, uh. . . I need to tell Lonnie.” He said smiling with a thumb pointed back at the office. She giggled as he awkwardly tried to run backward for a moment, then turned and ran.

He burst in the door and Lonnie looked up from his paperwork.

“There’s lipstick on your mouth, kid.” He said with a smirk. Lonnie had been amazing about not giving him shit over his sort of odd relationship with Aurora.

“Trolls, Lonnie. In town at the school. Six of them.”

Lonnie sat his pen down and looked at Lance.

“Suit up. I’ll get my armor out of mothballs. I’m guessing Aurora’s coming too?

“Wait, you’re suiting up?”

Lonnie stood and leaped into action getting his armor out of a storage closet, so Lance did too.

“Lance,” Lonnie said, “if you think I’m letting you fight six trolls that can walk in sunlight alone, then I haven’t taught you a damned thing.”

A few minutes later, Lance and Lonnie were both in armor and tabards. Lonnie’s was white with a blue cross on it with gold border. Lance still wore the blue with a yellow cross of a Squire. He walked up to Aurora and handed her a sword and shield. He was suddenly worried.

“We have GOT to get you some armor. PLEASE try and be careful.” Lance said as she took the sword and shield from him.

“I will. YOU be careful.” She said, patting his stomach with the shield.

“He’s right.” Lonnie said. “I probably should have talked to you about getting armor already. That’s my fault. And we don’t have time to call the rest of the Burger King Kids’ Club.”

“The hell is that?” Lance asked.

“Jesus CHRIST, I’m too old for this shit.” Lonnie said as they climbed into the van.

Lance sat in the back next to Aurora on the bench seat and she held his hand the whole trip. The excitement from earlier had waned, and now Aurora looked terrified. Her hand shook. Lance remembered something.

“Lonnie?” He asked. “What was that thing you said Glen Lingal used to say about fear?”

Lonnie met Lance’s eyes in the mirror and Lance could tell he was smiling.

“Right. The fear thing. Aurora? I know this is your first time, and you’re probably scared enough to piss yourself. Well that’s ok. The Cavaliers used to have a saying.”

Lonnie winked in the mirror at Lance.

“You tell her. I’m driving.”

Lance cleared his throat and hoped he wasn’t going to sound as cheesy as he thought he would.

“Fearlessness is for the foolish and the dead. Bravery is acknowledging you’re scared and doing what you have to anyway.”

He squeezed her hand.

“And I’ll try to keep you safe.” He said. She met his eyes, and she nodded.

“Thanks. You’re scared?” She asked.

“Oh yeah. Probably not as much as I should be, but I’m scared.”

“Hell,” Lonnie added, “I’m scared. I haven’t done this in a while. Everybody should be scared going into something like this.”

Aurora smiled. Lance was glad to see it.

“That makes me feel better. Thanks.” She said.

The van pulled up outside the school and Lance immediately noticed his mom in the surrounding crowd. He jumped from the van and ran to her. She saw him and hugged him as soon as he reached her.

“I have never been so glad you dropped out.” She said into his overly spiky hair.

He stepped out of the hug and Aurora and Lonnie were both there.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Your father was arguing about getting you put back in school.” His mother said. “He’s in there. Then the trolls started demanding food, and tribute, and more of that enchanted sunscreen from the drug store or they were going to start killing hostages.”

She suddenly seemed tired.

“Did you bring some knights with you?”

“We kinda ARE the knights.” Lance said.

His mother looked at them all in shock. She saw Aurora with her sword and shield and her face seemed to collapse into sadness.

“Oh no.” She said. “You’re going to get this poor girl killed too.”

Lance looked at Aurora and she looked crestfallen. Lance walked away from his mother, took Aurora by the arm, and led her away.

“I don’t care what she says. I’d rather have you and Lonnie here than an army. We can do this.” He said.

“You DAD is in there!” She looked terrified again.

“And so is your brother. Are we letting them stay in there?” He said.

At that she shook her head. Lance nodded.

“What should we do?” He asked Lonnie.

“Check for a classroom. See if someone can let us in the windows, then find these bastards. Stay sneaky if we can.”

“Will that work?!” Aurora asked. Lance wasn’t sure about this himself.

“Trolls are stupid.” Lonnie said. “If they’re awake in the day they’re doubly stupid because it means they’re sleep deprived. They must think there’s some advantage to being out in the daylight. Probably vitamin D or something.” He led them around the side of the building.

Aurora saw a row of windows and made a crouching run toward them. Lance shrugged at Lonnie and followed. Aurora lightly tapped on the window and suddenly there was Miguel looking at them. Aurora mimed opening the window and he started to. A teacher came and snatched him away from the window but not before he had released the two handles. Aurora pried the window open from the bottom with her sword tip then slid in, followed by Lance.

Lonnie gave the window a distrustful look. It was the kind that opened outward at the bottom and it didn’t open far. He grabbed it, gave it a quick, careful jerk, and the metal bars that held the bottom to the frame snapped off. He climbed in quietly after that and closed the window behind him.

“Who in the hell do you think you are bringing children into a locked down school?!” The teacher whisper-shouted. Lance didn’t know her. She was new this year.

“Fuck you, that’s who.” Lonnie said and gave her a shush with his finger to his mouth.

Aurora and Miguel stopped hugging and Lance walked over. Surprisingly, Miguel hugged Lance.

“Four of them are in the office.” He whispered. “Two are patrolling the halls with the lights out and making noises to scare everyone.”

“Do they come into the rooms?” Lance asked.

“No.”

“They don’t have enough sunscreen.” Lance said mostly to himself. “These guys ARE idiots.”

“What should we do?” Aurora asked. She’d managed to belt the sword and scabbard on and had the shield on her back. Lance thought about it.

“Two of them? You’ve seen them?”

“Yeah.” Miguel said. “Saw them through the window on the door. I don’t know if it’s the same ones each time or if they’re trading out. They come by every ten or fifteen minutes.”

“Why hasn’t anyone climbed out the window?”

The teacher strode up and gave Lance a disgusted look. She obviously didn’t like the Order.

“LOCK DOWN.” She said entirely too loudly. “No one leaves until the police deal with this. It’s standard practice which you’d know if you were in class.”

Lance was already done with this woman. He needed to nip this in the bud right now.

“Listen, I don’t know who the hell you are, but I’m not one of your students.” Lance said quietly, but firmly. “These are Fantastics. They’re out of the cops’ jurisdiction. We ARE the rescue team. Now if you will please keep your voice down and shut up we’re going to try and get you out of this.”

The woman’s mouth was opening and closing like a dying fish. Lance realized what he’d just done.

“Right, Lonnie?” He said, turning to his trainer. He hoped Lonnie would take charge. Lonnie was leaning against a storage cabinet with a giant grin on his face, though.

“You heard what the boss there said, lady.” Lonnie said.

Lance just shook his head and walked over to the door and squatted down under the narrow window above the doorknob. He’d have at least fifteen minutes to wait. Aurora and Lonnie both slipped over quietly and took up positions on either side of the door. Lonnie winked at him. Lance turned to Aurora.

“I wish Lonnie wouldn’t do that. I’m supposed to be the squire here.” He whispered.

“Didn’t you say Lonnie renounced his vows?”

“Yeah?” Lance said.

“Well,” Aurora said, giving him a smirk, “that makes you the only commissioned member of the Order in this group. This is your operation.”

He just stared at her and felt like he was going to have a panic attack right there. She kissed his cheek then whispered into his ear.

“You’re doing great.” She said.

Lance was blushing and he knew it. He thought about saying something, when he heard horrible grunting and bleating sounds in the hall, followed by pounding on one of the doors. Barely three minutes, Lance thought. The timing was perfect.

He heard a deep, guttural voice shout threats in English, then laughter as the trolls came down the hall and did something similar at the next door. Lance stayed down and faced the classroom.

Lance drew his sword quietly and that caused some eyes to widen. Then he saw everyone’s eyes go to the window.

Lance arched an eyebrow at Miguel, who gave a slight nod. Lance spun on a heel, unlocked the door carefully, and just as the pounding started he threw the door wide and plunged the sword upward, into the heart of the troll. He sprung to his feet and ran forward, pushing the dying troll back into the hallway and against the lockers across the hall. The second troll fell backwards and landed on its back.

Lance was barely aware of the sound of Lonnie and Aurora taking care of that second troll. He made sure to meet his own enemy’s eyes. He stared into them as the light slowly faded from them and the form became dead weight. He pulled his sword out and shivered. Lance would never, ever get used to that. He’d watched several monsters die like this. They deserved that much. He had to pay for the lives he took and this was how he’d do it. It sickened him.

He pulled a rag from his pocket and turned, cleaning his blade. Aurora was hugging herself and leaning against the wall by the classroom door. He walked over to her. She was shaking.

“Does. . .does it get easier?” She asked. Her sword was still in the gut of the one she had killed with Lonnie’s help. Lance pulled her from the wall and held her.

“No. And I hope it never does.” He whispered. He rubbed her back. Miguel came to check on them. Lance looked at her.

“Are you ok to go on? Do you want to wait here with Miguel?” He asked. He wouldn’t blame her if she wanted out now.

“No. I’ll be fine. I just. . . I just wanted to make sure I’m not supposed to like this part.”

She looked at him seriously.

“Besides. I wanted to see what you went through. This is definitely part of it.”

Lance didn’t think about it. He just kissed her. When he stopped and caught sight of Miguel, her brother was rolling his eyes and walking back into the classroom.

“Thank you for caring, Aurora.” He said. “We need to get going. There’s four more and they’ll know when these don’t come back.”

Lance and his tiny team stumble upon a two troll search party in the side hall leading to the main entrance. They looked so tired, they almost didn’t notice the humans at first. Before they could raise a stink and before Lance could raise his sword, Aurora ran forward and pulled a tarp down off the wall. The exposed window behind it let in sunlight and one of the two turned to stone on the spot. Lance managed to decapitate the second as it shielded its eyes. Maybe he had the sunscreen, but that did nothing for his night adapted eyes.

Lonnie had his sword out, but continued to let Lance lead. Once the second troll was taken care of, Lance turned to Aurora.

“You’re gonna do really well at this.” He said. She grinned. She hadn’t had to use a sword and she’d still taken one down.

“So where now? Won’t they see us in those big windows at the front of the office?” She asked.

He pointed at a door just past the drink machine down the hall.
“Guidance Counselors’ offices are right there and connect to the main office. Hopefully the last two are idiots too.” Lance said.

“That’s where they’re gonna have the hostages, Lance.” Lonnie said gravely. “You got a plan for that?”

Lance didn’t say anything. He’d been wracking his brain as they crept toward the office and so far all he had was sneak in and hope they were close enough to jump.

“Let’s just say I do and get on with it.” He said.

Lonnie laughed softly.

“Ah! A McAlpine Plan. Hadn’t been involved in one of those in over twenty years. I hope you’re as good as I hope you are.” Lonnie said.

Lance shook his head. He hoped Lonnie understood what he’d meant by that, because Lance sure didn’t.

The counselors’ office was deserted. They’d moved everyone into the main office it seemed. Lance had no idea how six trolls had managed all this but here they were, living with the outcome. Someone else could sort that out. They reached the closed door to the office and Lance listened at it.

He could hear two trolls arguing on the other side and the occasional whimper of a hostage. It sounded like one troll was on the left side of the room and one was on the right, near the entrance. They spoke in their horrible, grumbling language that Lance couldn’t hope to decipher. It sounded like deep, gibbering goats.

He turned and looked at Aurora. He pointed at her and Lonnie, then toward the direction of the main entrance to the office. He pointed at himself and pointed to the left. Lonnie looked at him and raised his eyebrows. Clarification. Lance made a fist and softly hit his palm. Lonnie rolled his eyes but nodded.

This was something Lonnie had taught him. The hand signal meant “burst through the door and try to stab every mob in the room before they had time to think”. It was a very simple plan, but Lance didn’t think finesse was going to work here. He had no way to peek without alerting them to his presence. Stupid Move #1 it was.

Lance stood, slowly turned the doorknob with his left hand, then burst into the room leaping to the left, sword raised. He froze just past the door and heard a troll die behind him, quickly. But standing there was a larger troll with clear, bright eyes. He was surrounded by hostages tied up on the floor. He was holding one up by the neck allowing him to slowly asphyxiate. Of course it was Lance’s father.

“Don’t move, muttling.” The troll said in English. “I’ll make a deal with you. You let me out of here, I’ll spare the hostages. You take one step toward me though and I-”

Lance threw his sword like a javelin as hard as he could and the blade went straight through the trolls head. His father hit the ground gasping. The troll fell backward and crashed into a desk.

It was a completely useless maneuver. Lonnie had told him that. He’d also let him learn it anyway. Lonnie had told him that more than once a stupid piece of showmanship had saved his life. Lance had done this to entertain the other trainees once he’d figured out how to do it, throwing his sword at wooden targets.

He walked over, pulled a small knife from his boot, and cut his father’s bonds. His father just kept staring at him. Somewhere behind him he heard Lonnie and Aurora cut everyone else loose. The air filled with sobs and whimpers. Lance ignored it all. He just looked into his father’s eyes and wondered if he had a home to go back to.

His father sat up slowly. Giant, sausage thick bruises circled his neck. Lance winced at them. His father threw his arms around his neck and pulled him into a hug.

“I’m sorry, Lance. I’m sorry.” Lance felt stunned and just patted his father’s back.

“It’s ok.” Lance said. “We’ll have a chance to talk about it now. You’re ok.”

The reception as Lance, Lonnie, and Aurora led everyone out of the school was not what any of them had expected. Lance’s immediate reaction was to stand behind Lonnie, but the burly ex-knight wouldn’t let him. Neither would Aurora.

“If I have to stand here and take this, you have to stand here and take this. You did the hardest parts.” She said, grinning.

They’d had to face the press, authorities, parents, the school board, and just about everyone else in the county worth their salt. Almost all of it was praise. Some of the parents were concerned about “knights” on campus but they eventually shut up once they realized their kids were safe.

Aurora had started holding his hand as soon as they’d gotten outside. She didn’t let go until her parents arrived to pick her up. She’d wanted to stay. Her parents gave her five minutes before she HAD to go.

“You really should go be with your family.” Lance said. He knew he’d have to go home tonight. Especially after all this.

She hugged him and he put his hands on her back.

“I’m not trying to butter you up when I say this. That was amazing. YOU were amazing.” She said, squeezing him.

“I dunno.” He said, feeling embarrassed. “It’s like Terry says. I’m just trying to help people.”

Aurora didn’t let go of him, but she pulled her head back and looked into Lance’s eyes.

“Don’t try to live up to him. You are more than enough.” She kissed him. It was a much more gentle kiss than before and when she stopped, Lance knew the expression on his face must be goofy as hell, because Aurora laughed at him.

She waved and walked to her parents. Lonnie was talking to someone from the media when Aurora tried to give back the sword and shield. He waved it away. Lance heard him say “No. You EARNED that” and went back to being interviewed. Lance just watched her climb into her parent’s car and watched her go.

A moment later, he found his parents. They were talking quietly. His father took him up in a bear hug. His mother stood back and watched.

“Your mother still thinks this is a terrible idea.” His father said. “But after this, she’s willing to leave it be.”

“What about you, dad?” Lance asked.

“I can admit when I was wrong. Please come home.” He smiled, and Lance had to rub his eyes. He turned and waved at Lonnie, who gave him a single flap of a wave. Lance grinned. He’d go back to the yard on Sunday. Today, he wanted to go home.

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Ain’t No Sunshine

Elton saw it happen. The connection to the Everywhen had been cut. Delores was gone. The Sending was gone. He dropped his phone, staggered into the main chamber of the castle, and fell to his knees. He looked over and there was Terry, rising to his own knees. The former Errant stared, looking completely lost. Elton watched as Terry began looking around in a panic, flexing his fingers.

“She…” Terry whispered, then his expression firmed. “I can go after her.”

Elton did not have the heart to tell him. He wasn’t sure he could talk right then. It was a testament to Terry’s strength that he was already thinking of rescue missions that couldn’t happen.

The strange priest walked in with the only surviving knight. Elton had no idea who this man was, but Terry seemed to know him.

“Takewell,” Terry said when he saw the man. “I need you to reopen it.”

“I don’t know how, Mr. Lingal. It is a thing of the elves and the agents of our enemies.”

Terry nodded.

“Then I need elves.”

“They won’t do it.” Elton said. Jesus. He sounded terrible to his own ears. Hollow. “Or if they do it’ll be months to get permission.”

“I don’t know if she has months, Elton.”

And there it was. Elton was about to destroy him.

“It’s probably already BEEN months for her, Terry.”

Terry just stared at him. It was so quiet Elton could almost hear the walls settling.

“Your bard is right, Mr. Lingal. The wide world and the Everywhen? Time moves differently in both. They sync up when a portal is opened between the two, but once the link is broken, time begins flying wildly in the Everywhen.” The priest didn’t look very sad about it. Or happy. Or anything for that matter.

Terry stood and walked to the center of the chamber. He stared at the burned circle in the wooden planks.

“What are you two saying? That… that she’s dead or something? They’ve already killed her?”

“No, Mr. Lingal. She is a capable woman. She may well be alive, but the more time that passes here, even more time passes there. It could be months now for her. Maybe years.”

Terry stared at the priest.

“I swore I’d come back to her.” Terry whispered. He sounded like a little kid. Elton found himself crying. This wasn’t fair.

“Mr. Lingal,” the priest, Takewell, said, “I know you’re coping with a loss, but I’ve come to protect you. Jack in the Leaves... There’s too much to explain. Your sword. Our enemy wants your sword.” Terry looked at it in his hand. He seemed to have forgotten it.

Elton glanced over as a depressed looking Thunder rolled up beside him. He put a hand on it’s seat, and the scooter seemed to lean into him for emotional support. He’d felt the scooter was a silly thing, but right then, Elton needed something. He laid his head on the seat and quietly wept.

“Why does he want it?” Terry asked. God he sounded empty.

“We don’t know specifics,” Elton heard Takewell say, “but we discovered his plan is to unmake reality. The lie you were told about the Greenman. Alex is going into hiding now. He says I’m to find you and your party, protect you, and bring you to him so we can make plans.”

Elton looked up. Terry looked at the sword in his hands as if seeing it for the first time. It had always just been his father’s sword.

“He can have it.” Terry said.

“MISTER LINGAL!” Takewell shouted. “This is all of reality! All of humanity!”

Terry looked up and there was rage there.

“Then YOU can have it.” Terry said. Elton shivered. “He wants it? Fine! You want it? Fine!” Terry threw the sword to the ground.

“But-” Takewell began, but Terry stopped him short.

“Is this a punishment?” Terry shouted at the roof. “Is that what this is? Is this what happens when I’m happy? When I stray from the path someone else helped put me on, and I try to be something else?”

He looked around the room and grew angrier. He started yelling at the walls, and Elton realized he was screaming at the vines. At the Voice.

“AND YOU!!” Terry screamed. “You and your guidance and your advice and your prodding! YOU put me here! YOU put HER here! This is because I abandoned my vows, isn’t it! You all wanted this!”

Terry dropped to his knees in the center of the burned circle, facing the main stairway. He shook. Elton stood and slowly walked around him. Terry screamed again.

“GOD DAMN YOU!” He shouted to the ceiling. “You put me here to lose her.” The last came out as a broken croak.

The sword blade on the ground by him began to glow. Elton had never seen it do that away from Terry’s hand.

“Terry?” Elton said, and when Terry looked he saw the sword.

“Oh NOW you want to do something?” He said, his voice going hoarse. “Now that it’s too late and it’s all over?”

“Terry? What do you want me to do?” Elton asked. He felt helpless.

Terry lifted his sword and looked at Elton. The bard didn’t think he’d ever been so frightened FOR someone in his life.

“I kept one vow, Elton. For her. Everything was for her. And now I can’t do it.” The tears began pouring, his rage spent for the moment. “I don’t know what to do. I know I’m suppose to help people, but what’s the point if I have to be miserable while I do it?”

As if burdened by the weight of the world, Terry stood and walked to one of the walls of the main hall. Right between two wood pillars and above the wainscoting, Terry plunged his glowing sword into the wall at his own eye level and left it there. He turned to Takewell.

“I’m done. You can have it. I don’t care any more.” He said.

“Mr. Lingal, Terry, please. We need you AND the sword. Jack would devour you.”

“Maybe,” Terry paused to swallow, “maybe that would be for the best now.” He said it so quietly. Takewell stared at him. Elton wanted to cry all over again.

“We know you’re a wizard, Mr. Lingal. We ALL know you’re a magic user. No one will do anything to you over it. I promise. Just please come with me.”

As Takewell begged, and Terry told him in his own Terry way to fuck right off, Elton walked up to the sword. He couldn’t stop staring. It was a symbol of the end of everything good he’d come to know. Just stabbed into the wall. Something was going on, though. The wall shouldn’t be glowing around the the blade, should it?

Elton got right against the wall and looked at the glow. His eyes widened. He looked behind the glow. There was a gap between the blade and the wall. It wasn’t IN the wall. He reached up and touched the hilt. He wiggled it. He couldn’t move it, but it wiggled.

Elton ran and slammed into Terry, grabbing him by the arms.

“Terry, cut the wall.” He said.

Terry just stared at him looking dead inside. Elton didn’t have time for this.

“YOU HICK SON OF A BITCH, I AM TELLING YOU TO CUT THE GOD DAMNED WALL.”

Anger. A cleansing fire to burn the mental brambles. Right then Elton didn’t care if Terry punched him in the face, as long as he cut that damned wall.

“Fine.” Terry said coldly. He marched back up to his sword and grabbed the hilt.

“Here’s your cut wall, for all the good it will do you. I hope it’s my last act on this Earth.”

He pulled it straight down to the floor. It moved easily. Far too easily. Elton stared as a bright slice of white light trailed from where it began, down to the floor. Terry looked, and suddenly the white line expanded. It ripped open a space in the air between the two wooden pillars, and on the other side was something impossible.

Beyond the shimmering, rectangular hole in the air, there was another place. The sky was yellow. The foliage was greener than anything Elton had ever seen. A mountain pitted with holes and covered with geometric shaped boulders stood in the distance, surrounded by steam. A warm, spring breeze blew through and cut the chill.

Terry staggered back from the hole he’d made.

“What is this?” he asked, his anger and sadness momentarily forgotten.

“It’s impossible, is what it is.” Takewell replied. “You can not open a portal like this. Since the Sin and the Sundering, they say that only the elves can do something like this. Only the Plague Doctors can do it. And not EVEN this! A two way portal can’t be.” The priest backed away but slipped on some leaves on the wooden floor and fell on his butt. “There are fundamental rules that forbid this from existing to protect the Everywhen.”

Elton stood there, cheeks still stained with tears, and he started laughing. Terry turned to look at him. Elton thought he was going to lose his mind. He thought he knew what had happened, though. Magically, it made no sense. Everything in the universe said this shouldn’t happen. But that had never once been something to stop Terry Lingal. The impossible always happened in a good story. Especially when a hero was involved.

“Terry,” Elton said, his laughter finally under control, “I’m going to tell you something Delores never explained about magic.”

Terry looked guilty suddenly. Him and his depression and his anger issues.

“Elton, I’m…”

“Stop it, damn it. I got you mad on purpose. Keep your noble mouth shut and listen to me.” Elton said. He continued. “Magic is just Will imposed on reality. Everyone has some magic ability in them or no spells would work. Even your friend George. Baseline for humans is never zero. If it was, we wouldn’t be alive. It’s called Everyday Magic. It’s the one kind I was able to learn as a Troubadour in college. All magic words and rituals do is subtly alter your mind to where you can make the changes you want. Magic has to change YOU so you can change the world.”

Terry nodded. Good. He could be a bright boy sometimes. Elton hoped he was bright enough to do what he was going to tell him to. He ran his hands through his hair.

“But you’re different, Terry. Delores called your power terrifying and I know what she means. You don’t need words and rituals and sigils. And that’s what just happened here. This is your Will made real. This is a change from your Will alone.”

“But you both said there was no way to do this.” Terry said, gesturing at the gateway. Elton walked up to his friend. He didn’t want to do what he was going to do. He didn’t want things to change. But stories must be told.

“You and me,” Elton said, “are very similar. Our lives have been loss, and loneliness, and pain. And we’ve both tried to pull ourselves together afterwards with different degrees of success.”

Elton felt tears again. He couldn’t help it.

“The difference between us though, Terry? When the worst thing I could imagine happened, I had to pick up a bottle and I crawled inside. When it happened to you?” Elton didn’t know if he should laugh or sob. “The universe bent over backwards and broke it’s own rules because it couldn’t stand to see you hurt any more.”

No one said anything for a long while. The only sound was Thunder rolling up next to Elton. He put a hand on the scooter’s headlight.

“What does it mean?” Terry asked, looking over his shoulder at the portal and the strange world beyond.

“It means I have no idea what you really are, my friend. But it also means that the world couldn’t see you break your last vow. You need to go to her. You need to go find Delores.”

Terry looked back at Elton.

“Take me with you!” Takewell shouted. He sounded frantic. Terry and Elton both looked at the priest in surprise.

“No!” Terry said. “No offense, Steven, but as much as I appreciate the help, I don’t trust you. I don’t know that I can trust anyone from the Order.”

He looked at Elton.

“Come with me, Elton.”

Elton rubbed his eyes.

“I can’t. I’m terrified of going. And I’d rather stay here and imagine you found her, and you two ended up happy together. Even if I never see you again. I can’t watch you stay here and destroy yourself without her. I’ll stay here and guide the public narrative. Now, go.”

Terry embraced Elton tightly.

“I haven’t had a lot of friends, and I never had a best friend, Elton. I’m sorry I wasn’t better at it.”

Elton patted his back.

“Yeah, I’m not too good at this thing either.”

Terry stepped back. He looked resolved.

“Are you taking Thunder?” Elton asked. The scooter looked up hopefully. Terry knelt down.

“I don’t think there’s any gas stations over there, buddy.” Terry scratched Thunder’s headlight and his handlebars drooped. “Elton is going to take care of you for me. And you take care of him.”

The headlight nodded. So did Elton.

Elton heard Terry whisper a tiny “I love you” to the scooter before standing and unstrapping his saddle bags from the back. He looked at Elton again.

“I love you, Elton. You’re a good man. I don’t care what you say about yourself.”

Elton choked down a sob.

“And what are you now, Lingal?” Takewell said, finally standing. He looked angry. It was the first emotion besides shock Elton had seen on his face. “Without the vows that guide the Order, what are you now? A mercenary?! A vigilante?!” Terry looked at him, then at Elton. Instead of answering Takewell, he spoke to Elton.

“Elton, I need one more favor from you. One last act as my bard. I want you to record something.”

Elton ran to his dropped phone and came back with it. He started recording.

Terry lifted his sword carefully, but the portal stayed open. He placed the hilt to his chest, sword blade pointing down.

“You want vows, Takewell? Well these are MY vows. They’re the last ones I will ever swear.” He closed his eyes and lowered his head. He spoke in a clear, strong voice.

“I, Terrance Lingal, vow to help the less fortunate. I swear to protect those who need protection. I promise to defend the defenseless. I vow to stand against tyranny and oppression. I vow to protect life, including my own. I vow that the only voice that can ever tell me what to do again is my own heart, because it is the only thing that has never steered me wrong.”

A strong breeze burst through the portal causing Terry’s coat to flap. It blew Elton’s hair back as he finished. The moment had a feeling of importance suddenly.

Terry lowered his sword and looked at Takewell.

“If someone needs vows to stop themselves from hurting people, then they have no business being a knight in the first place. They’re the kind of person I’m here to stand against.”

The priest stared at him, mouth agape.

“What are you now if not a knight or a member of the Order? What do we call you now?” Takewell asked.

“Elton gave me the title. He made it more than a rank. It’s the only thing that ever truly fit me and it’s as far as I ever needed to go in your Order. The Errant Apprentice.” Terry paused as a thought struck him. “And it doesn’t get more Errant than running away after a girl.”

Elton smiled sadly. At least Terry had given him an ending.

“Stay safe, Elton.” Terry said to him. He turned to Takewell.

“You and your brother need to leave the Order. Because if I ever step foot in the wide world again, I am tearing the Order of Saint George down myself.”

Terry stepped through the portal, and turned to look back at Elton one last time. He smiled. It was the smile of a young man who finally knew what he was about. Then the portal winked out, leaving Elton standing there with Thunder and two men he didn’t know.

But that was ok.

Elton was used to loneliness. . .

Jack in the Leaves had three men helping him up from the floor this time. He was in the office of Father Alex Takewell. The man had gone missing that morning and Jack had assumed direct control of the Order of St. George. BOTH the Takewells were missing. Then it had happened.

Raw, unadulterated mana had coursed through the web and revitalized him so quickly, and so suddenly, that he’d fallen down. It lasted for several minutes. It could only mean one thing. A gate had opened and fed the world for a few precious moments with pure mana. It lacked the muted nature of mana in the wide world. It was vibrant. It was full of life and color and need. There was only one way that could have happened. His sword.

“My lord,” Conti said coming around to stand in front of him, “this is twice now. Are you alright? What’s happened to you?”

Jack looked down at himself and stared. He was in bloom. Tiny flowers sprouted from between the vines that made up his limbs. His wooden armor was a deep, dark wood now and had small branches at the edges. Leaves grew on them. He looked at his hands and the mycelia that made up his skin looked moist. He felt lush.

“The Everywhen was open for a moment, Conti.” He said, a touch breathlessly. “I was connected with home for a moment as the webs touched again.”

“Do you think he’s used the sword?” Conti asked.

“He had to have.” Jack walked around behind the desk and gingerly sat in another man’s seat. He began looking through drawers.

“What does it mean?” Conti asked.

“If he’s gone TO the Everywhen,” Jack said, his voice suddenly losing all of its rasp, “then the sword is out of my hands. We must send a message for him to be intercepted.”

He stopped searching.

“That sword is the only thing that would allow me to go home, and then climb to the One.”

Conti nodded.

“Yes, my lord. I understand something has stirred things in Tir-Na-Nog. Should we move on that front as well while we can communicate?”

Jack thought about that. He drummed his fingers on the desk. The thing was covered in paperwork. It would take days to sort and understand it all.

“Yes.” He finally said. “It pains me to destroy my former home, but I want it razed to the ground. I can’t risk them regaining any form of authority.”

Jack froze as another pulse of energy hit the mana web and it lasted. This time Jack was sitting and he rode it out. He felt his face and the mask he wore to cover his missing eye, and small branches emerged from his forehead, already loaded with sprouting leaves. He felt nearly whole by the time the pulse ended.

Conti stared at him.

“My lord?” he asked.

“Conti,” Jack said, “I have no idea what just happened but I think someone else has opened a gateway. I want that person found and brought here yesterday.”

Conti bowed and began making arrangements.

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The Bird and the Bull

Terry stood there staring at the massive beast creature. It was every bit the size of Banjo the fish-man, possibly bigger. It was dressed like something out of a fantasy film, which screamed “Everywhen” to him. It wore a loin cloth and leather straps and carried a two handed ax in one hand as if it was nothing. The horns were black and seemed to pull the light to them. It was intimidating.

For all that, it was more natural than the six beings surrounding it. They wore black and gray robes with wide-brimmed, domed hats. Each “person” was armed with a quarterstaff. That was all a bit odd, but the thing that truly unnerved Terry were the bone white bird masks with glass goggles for eyes. They looked like bird skulls.

Plague Doctors. Or a mockery of them.

Something about them reached inside him and frightened him on a primal level. Terry had known fear. He and fear were old friends at this point. This was something else again. He heard Elton shriek behind them. He glanced quickly to Delores and she was at least unnerved judging by her face. His party’s fear gave him strength though. This wasn’t just him. That he could deal with.

Terry made no sudden movements, but would reach for his sword the minute things went sideways.

“I don’t know who you are, or what you’re doing out here, but we’re not looking for trouble.” He said. He thought about it. “Unless YOU’RE looking for trouble.”

One of the beings stepped forward slowly, it’s head tilting at terrifying angles and speeds. The minotaur moved to step forward, but two of the Doctors barred its way with their staves. It snorted, its breathe misting in the cold air, and kept its position. The lead being craned it’s neck forward.

“Liiiiingaaaaaaaal.” It said. Terry took an involuntary step back. The voice sounded like something croaking and imitating human speech. Or the sound rough stones made when cracked together and somehow making words out of that. It was one of the worst things to ever grace Terry’s ears. He shivered.

“How do you know his name?!” Delores shouted at the thing.

The sudden tilt of it’s head was sickening. Terry should have heard a neck snap if it had been human.

“Perhaps this can be finished, finally.” It said.

“I said-” Delores began, but Terry held a hand out to stop her.

“Who are you?” Terry asked.

“The Lingal child has manners.” He heard one of the other five say, followed by sharp, nightmarish, cawing laughter. Terry was terrified of what would be under that mask.

“Do you not remember us?” Said the lead entity. It slowly walked toward him. He saw sharp points on the ends of the fingers of its gloves.

“Should I? Why does every entity think I should know it?” Terry asked. He heard Elton whimper as the thing got closer.

“Do you remember when your mother took all of our gifts?”

Terry felt cold. The fear had flowed out of him suddenly, along with every other feeling.

“What?” He asked. The thing came even closer, it’s gait was inhuman, it’s posture hunched, it’s movements quick and jerky, like bad stop motion.

“She took our gifts. The ones for you and your father.” It’s voice creaked. He couldn’t see it’s face but it sounded like it was smiling.

Terry felt Delores pull mana into herself. He did the same and now he could see it. All of it. Mana flowed into the bird entities. It flowed into the minotaur’s horns but did nothing for it. There was something else drawing mana back out toward the road. One way or another, they were about to have company.

“Are you saying that you gave my mother the cancer that killed her? You tried to give it to my whole family and my mother took it all?” Terry still felt numb, but he knew what he was about to do.

“She was brave, for a human. She took it all and killed our agent. Our master was not pleased, but he is forgiving.” It cawed.

“The Greenman?” Terry asked.

“His son.” It said.

“But you killed my mother.”

“Yes, little Lingal.” It said. Mockery in its voice. “We brought the disease. It is what-”

It never had the chance to finish the sentence. One minute, Terry was standing there, hands at his side. The next, his sword was already in the air at an angle. The creature had gotten close enough in it’s taunting. It’s top half was lying on the ground now. It’s insides spilling.

The mask had fallen off and it was a giant raven’s head. It’s black eyes stared at nothing now. It’s lower half though, began running around in a panic and running into the walls of the Castle. It ran at Delores but she kicked it over. Terry heard Elton vomit into the pond behind them.

“Thunder, watch Elton.” Terry said into the stunned silence that followed.

Then, it was bedlam.

Spells erupted from every direction. Terry darted forward to close the distance, Delores hot on his heels, she spun cyclones of mana around them absorbing attacks and redirecting or dissipating them. Terry found his sword could pull mana into it, like he had in Dans la Bouche. Spells came at him when they slipped past Delores and the sword cut them in two, then pulled in the traces of mana left behind. It glowed brighter and brighter as they made their way to the bird-men.

Suddenly, two ice shards came from behind them and hit one of the Plague Doctors. Terry turned just long enough to see Steven Takewell, a purple robed cleric, and two knights striding onto the grounds. The knights began advancing on the minotaur, leaving the Plague Doctors for the magic users. Terry shook his head realizing that really included him now.

He made it to the first of the bird-men and as it tried to summon a fireball, Terry split it right down the middle from head to waist. He spun in time to intercept a second as it switched to using it’s quarterstaff.

The thing had Terry on the back foot. He hadn’t trained nearly enough for this sort of combat. The staff seemed to turn every blow he threw at it without breaking. He kept having to back up and stay out of range of the spinning staff. He knew that if he tried a direct stab it would just disarm him. Only one thing for it.

Terry lowered his sword, hunched over, and ran full tilt at the bird-man. He took some hits from the staff, most of which his armor absorbed. His head? Well, he had a hard head and he healed fast. His enhanced speed and strength took the bird right off its feet and he barreled forward, shoving the thing through the doors of the Castle, where he stopped dead. The bird did NOT stop. It kept flying forward and hit what was in the middle of the main chamber.

It was a glowing sphere. It was white and had a mother of pearl sheen to it. Traces of pink and blue rolled through the surface. When the bird went in, it did not come back out. Terry thought it would be best to not get too close to whatever it was. He ran back to the door and found two of the birds facing Delores.

They were throwing attacks at her. Ice, fire, lightning, pretty much anything they could. Delores could counter them all day but it left her no room for an actual attack. They needed to figure something out for that in the future. They could talk about it later.

One of the birds stopped and stared as the glowing blade of Terry’s sword sprang from its chest. The other one turned to look in surprise and then burst into flames. That was the opening she’d needed.

“Sorry!” Terry said. “We’ll work on this.”

Delores gave him a grin that made the horror of the whole situation flee for a moment.

Some quick mental arithmetic told him there was one more Plague Doctor and the minotaur left and, sure enough, there they were. One of the knights was down and wouldn’t get back up. The cleric was dead, which Terry thought sadly might be for the best. The bird and the bull seemed to make an effective team.

The knight fought the minotaur well, and Takewell kept the Plague Doctor too occupied to back the beast up.

Terry made his way to Takewell, who was hurling spells like a pro.

“I didn’t expect to see you. Especially not here.” Terry said.

“Your aunt and uncle told us you were never here which told me you had been. Once that Sending opened and my compass went off, I made some assumptions.” The bald cleric said.

“So that’s a gate to the Everywhen?” Terry asked, surprised.

“Yes. One way. Portals there and here are always one way. One of these birds must have made it and intended to go back.”

“Well, your help is appreciated, even if I’m not under your jurisdiction any more.”

Terry watched as every spell Delores threw at the minotaur redirected into its horns.

“D!” Terry shouted, but Delores was already on her way. “That thing’s horns are enchanted or something.”

“I noticed, love. I’m thinking. Give me a minute.”

Terry had to just ignore what she’d called him for now.

“You’re just going to have to take it down with brute force, I think.” She said, and he nodded.

“Takewell, you pay attention to Tweety there. I’m gonna try and end this guy.” Terry knew he sounded like an idiot the moment he said it, but Takewell just nodded.

“You’ll need to watch that ax.” He said. “Can you do that?”

Terry’s sword began to glow so brightly Takewell backed away from him. Terry saw Elton riding slowly up on Thunder with his phone out, recording.

“If I can’t, then what’s the use of me?” He said to the former cleric. “D, can you throw something at the minotaur? Something big?”

“It’s not gonna hit.” She said.

“Doesn’t have to if it’s big enough.”

She grinned.

“Go do the dirty work, hero. I’ll handle this end.”

Terry had no idea what spell she was using but it was a big one. It looked impressive and that was what mattered. It could be fireworks for all he knew.

Delores threw a massive ball of light at the minotaur. As soon as it left her hands, the bull lowered its head to absorb whatever it was. Terry leaped. It was what he was best at. He heard Takewell say something un-priest like as he soared overhead. He was over the thing and had a fantastic look as the ball was absorbed by the horns. Terry came down right on top of the monster.

The sword went straight through its back and it screamed. It sounded like a man and a bull combined and it made Terry ill to hear it. He was standing with his feet on the thing’s shoulders and his sword through its heart. He pulled his blade out to lop the head off.

The thing suddenly straightened and threw Terry off its back, sending him sliding through the door of the Castle. He thankfully slid to the side of the Sending and came to a stop against the wall. He saw Delores run to the door to check on him.

“I’m fine!” he shouted. “Just watch for the-”
The bull’s thrashing arms hit Delores in the back causing her to stagger forward, but she stopped herself and the bull dropped dead. Terry let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. The bird-man suddenly flying through the door and hitting Delores turned his heart inside out.

The thing skidded to a stop, grabbed Delores by the arm, and swung her into the Sending. He just had time to see the horror on her face before she was gone. The bird leaped in behind her. The door to the Everywhen vanished leaving a burned circle in the wooden floor. All Terry could do was lay there and continually see Delores’s face as she vanished from the Earth. He never even noticed Elton standing in the door way drop his phone.

The light in Terry’s soul went out.

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The End of Dreams

Delores lay in bed, watching Terry pace and occasionally look out the window, worried. She watched him check that his armor was where he had left it and exactly where it had been ten minutes before when he’d checked the last time.

“Maybe I should sleep in my armor,” he mumbled.

Delores sighed. She knew this sort of thing would happen. It had happened before on the road, but now it was more personal. She loved him.

“Terry, I want you to come to bed.”

“But, something is out there!” he said, gesturing at the window.

Delores stood, then walked up to him. Seeing her in her sleep wear usually shut Terry up and this time was no exception. He still turned red in the face seeing her which, honestly, made her feel pretty.

“Look,” she stood with her fist on her hips, “if something is out there, the protections I placed will keep them at bay for the night. They’ll also wake me up and I can wake you up.”

He sighed. As distracting as she might be, he was trying to protect his family. She couldn’t really blame him.

“I know,” he said, “but what if something happens and they get through?”

Delores put her arms around him. He was so out of sorts tonight.

“This is because it’s happening here, isn’t it?”

“What if this is because of me, D? What if something happens to Ernest and Dottie because I’m here?” He looked lost. She bit her lip in frustration and put a palm on his cheek. She thought for a long time.

“I know you’re scared,” she said. “You have every right to be. But if there’s anyone that can protect this farm it’s you and me.” She smiled at him. “And if something DOES happen, then you’re going to worry yourself sick. I won’t let you do that then have to save your butt because you’re too stubborn to lay down.”

She took his head in both hands and lightly shook it, which made him laugh.

“Besides. Maybe I can distract you.” She smirked as she said it. “No idea how I’m meant to do that, though.”

“I WANT you to distract me, Delores,” he said, leading her by the hand to sit with him on the bed. He held her hand tightly as she sat. “I have no idea what I’d do without you. These past months, you’ve given me so much. I wish I could do more for you.”

Terry sat there looking at the floor, suddenly miles away. She turned his face to her.

“Look. Maybe I don’t have everything I’ve ever wanted. Maybe you can’t get everything you want in life. But the biggest things I’ve wanted? I have them, Terry.” She squeezed his hand. “The only thing I want from you, is for you to stay with me. Can you do that?”

Terry looked genuinely surprised.

“Nothing in Heaven and Earth could keep me from you, D. I would fight creation for you if I had to.”

If he says he’s not a poet one more time, I’m going to strangle him, Delores thought. She laid him down on the bed and laid next to him.

Before she could do anything, he nervously raised a hand above him. She recognized the circular motion immediately. He mumbled what sounded like the word for “silence” in elven. He’d must have picked it up from her. The dome slowly descended over them. She stared at him.

“Did you just cast a fucking spell?!” she asked loudly. They were private now after all. He looked embarrassed.

“Maybe? You’ve done it so often now, and I remembered what you do, so I thought I’d try it? Maybe? For once?”

She stared at him just long enough for him to look uncomfortable before kissing him.

After that, she buried her face in his neck and pulled him close.

“That’s it,” she said into his neck, grinning. “I’m going to make sure you can’t stay awake and worry. Besides, you people go to bed entirely too early for me.” That was not the last thing she did to his neck that night.

Terry dreamed, and he knew he dreamed. He stood on a high mesa looking down on an infinite desert. In what he assumed was the center was a giant forest or jungle and it was shaped like the pictures of galaxies Terry had seen in books and on television. From the center of it, he could just make out a tall, thin spire of stone and crystal. A hot and bitter smelling wind blew in his face. He was too high to be effected by the sand below.

The verdant spiral seemed to rise and Terry knew what it was. He hadn’t dreamed this dream in weeks. The shape was a foliate man with a cloak. It reminded him of the kaiju, but without malice.

“I’VE BEEN EXPECTING YOU!” he shouted at the shape. “YOU’RE LATE!”

“Your dreams have been too personal, but now my time is limited.” It said. “I can tell you one thing, Terry. The last thing you will hear from me like this. I wish I could do more but, YOU MUST GO TO THE CASTLE.”

“THANK YOU!” he shouted back. “I want you to know how much I appreciate you.”

“Goodbye, son,” it said. The forest being fell apart and with it the dream.

The next day, everyone sat around the table in the kitchen with biscuits and bacon as the sun rose. Nothing had happened. Delores was glad, but Terry had the feeling of someone still waiting for the other shoe to drop. David gave Terry dubious looks most of the meal. When Ernest saw him doing it, he popped the back of his head lightly.

“If that boy says there was danger, David, then there was damned well danger. Best remember who that is.” Ernest said, thumbing toward Terry.

“Sorry,” David said, rubbing the back of his head. “I didn’t think anything could be less comfortable than your old mattress, Terry, but that couch proved me wrong.”

Terry smiled. “It’s ok.” His expression became serious. “I think maybe we should be leaving. I’m pretty sure something’s after me.”

Dottie looked up at that.

“Terry, you said you’d stay a week.” She looked disappointed. Delores was disappointed too. She liked it here. If she was honest, she almost wanted to just stay and stop roaming. She’d never really felt like she’d had a real home before. The Lingals had treated her like family.

“I know. I have one thing I want to check out with Elton and Delores and we’ll be gone, though.” He looked around at his family. His only family. Delores’s heart went out to him. “I’d stay if I could. I just…”

Terry’s phone buzzed, which surprised everyone. It buzzed again as he was pulling it out to check. He managed to get his email open and scrolled, backed out, scrolled again, and Delores watched a series of emotions fight for dominance on his face.

“What is it?” Delores asked.

He looked up.

“First, is an email from Takewell’s office asking where I am and to hold position. They have something for me.”

“Something for this mission you’re on?” Elton asked.

“That’s what I thought. Then I got this other one. I think it’s from a private email account, but it’s from Father Takewell.”

“Can I see the address?” Delores asked, and he gave her the phone. The email was from “hotcock42091169@misslemail” which sounded like some early internet bullshit. She read the email and her eyes went wide. She gave Terry the phone back.

“But that means…” She couldn’t believe this.

“WHAT?!?” Elton said. Delores couldn’t tell if he was excited or anxious or if he had to poop.

“It’s a private email from Takewell,” Terry said. “He says to ignore all communications from the Order, trust no one from the Order besides him and his brother, and that he completely trusts my party and family.”

“Your loophole,” Delores said quietly.

“Something bad has happened.” Terry said, putting his phone up. “If they want me to hold position, we HAVE to leave.”

“I think we should all know what this mission of yers is, first, boy,” Ernest said. “I ain’t never seen ya so turnt around on somethin’.”

Terry nodded. Everyone just watched and Terry looked like someone had lifted a truck off of him.

“I’m supposed to find and kill the Greenman.” He looked at Delores and immediately took her hand. “I’m sorry, D. You know I wouldn’t have. You said it yourself. I couldn’t have done it. I KNOW it’s wrong.”

Delores felt shaken. She remembered he’d said it would hurt people he cared about deeply. This would have done it. It would have hurt everyone everywhere.

“Terry,” she said, “if you had done this? It would have destroyed the world. It would have been worse than the Sundering.”

“I don’t understand,” he said.

“The Sundering was when the world and the Everywhen were forcibly separated by the Greenman to atone for the Sin.”

He looked confused. Elton was taking notes

“Don’t ask. We don’t know what the Sin was, but it was done TO humanity. Not BY humanity. We were closed off from the Everywhen to protect both worlds.” Terry nodded.

“Ok. So the Awakening?” he asked.

“Was the fording of the gulfs between worlds again. Mana flowed back into the wide world in force. There had only been trickles before that. Just enough to maintain reality. If you killed the Greenman, the ways would snap shut. The worlds would be truly separated. Reality would unbind. Everything would just come apart and end here. There’d be no one to die because there would simply be no one. We’d all just stop existing.”

There was dead silence at the table. That was the final secret of the Circle of the Greenman. It wasn’t forbidden to tell, but it was definitely frowned upon. Elton had stopped typing and looked sick. Terry stood and walked out of the room. Delores stood to follow but before she could he was standing in the doorway to the kitchen with his sword. She sat back down to watch him.

“What’re ya doin’, son?” Ernest asked. He looked sick with worry. He stood, ready to jump on Terry if needed. Terry looked angry, and then he looked at her. He stared into her eyes and his smile returned. It was bright and beautiful and reminded her of every good thing she’d ever seen him do. He walked up to her, and knelt beside her chair. She turned to face him. David had leaped from his seat and was staring in confusion. Elton had jumped up and was recording. Dottie had her hands over her mouth.

Terry placed his sword hilt against his chest at an angle. He didn’t seem to want to risk the kitchen floor with the blade. He took Delores’s right hand in his left hand and just kept looking at her. Delores didn’t think he’d ever looked so beautiful to her than at that moment.

“That first night in New Orleans, I told myself that only one thing could make me renounce my vows. You, Delores. And if those vows could hurt you, then they aren’t any vows I want to keep.” Then he kissed her hand.

Delores bit her lip. She was aware of Elton over her shoulder getting a good angle, but she didn’t care if he was a troll with goblins riding him. Terry lowered his head over her hand and began.

“I, Terrance Lingal, having found the ways of the Order of St. George to be unjust and against the good of all life, renounce all vows and associations I have ever given them. I renounce all vows I have sworn, save one. I will continue to hold that vow as long as I live. I will always come back to you, Delores Cody. As long as you’ll have me.”

Delores was blinking away tears by the end. She reached out with her left hand and tilted his face up to hers. She kissed him.

“Always,” she said when she was done, and bit back a giggle. And just like that, he was free. Free from restrictions, free from obligations, and free from guilt over what he was doing. He was free, and he was hers. Terry laid his sword down and Delores dropped from the chair onto her knees in front of him and took him in her arms. He squeezed her so hard, she thought her ribs would crack. He slackened his grip as if he were going to let go.

“Don’t you dare,” she said quietly. She felt giddy. Well, she thought she did. Then he spoke again.

“I’d like to marry you some day, Delores. Maybe it’s seems sudden. I don’t care, and I’m on my knees anyway.” He’d said it so softly she didn’t think anyone else could have heard. She buried her face in his shoulder. She didn’t trust herself to say anything. She just nodded, and Terry held her there in the kitchen floor.

“I love you, D.” He said quietly.

When she finally looked up, she saw Elton watching them with tears on his cheeks. She knew one other person had heard.

It had been a somber goodbye for Terry. He’d told Ernest and Dottie he’d be in touch and to tell no one he’d been there. They’d told him not to worry, but he was going to do that anyway.

Before they’d left, Terry made sure Elton posted the video he’d taken of Terry renouncing his vows on all of his social media. His reasoning was, if the Order had done something to turn HIM against them, then maybe it was time to rethink the Order. He hoped that was what it did. There was no way to be sure until they checked the replies.

Now, Terry brought Thunder to a stop outside of a large iron gate a few minutes drive from his home. He’d meant to show them this, then everything had happened the day before. But the Voice had made this its last message, so here he was.

“Terry,” Delores said, “Do we have time for this? Whatever this is?”

He dismounted and started walking along a vine covered iron fence.

“Time or not, I was told to come here.” He searched for what he needed.

Elton walked to the edge of the paved drive way that led to the gate and watched him.

“The Voice?” he asked.

Terry found what he had been looking for and parted the vines.

“Yes. I’ll be right back.”

Terry ducked through a gap in the iron bars he knew would be hidden there. He’d made it, after all. Once inside, he walked over to the gate and cut the lock with his sword. He and Elton opened the gates. Terry walked to the center of the driveway and faced his friends.

“Ernest always said I didn’t have much of an imagination. That was mostly true, but it was a matter of scope. It’s hard to want things when you don’t know they’re there to want. But this?”

He gestured off to his left in the direction the drive curved.

“This is the big thing I daydreamed about.”

Elton pulled the Vespa in and hid it behind the foliage at the fence. Delores dismounted Thunder with a pat and the scooter followed her. As soon as they all rounded the bend, they stopped and Terry smiled.

Delores gripped his arm and put her head on his shoulder. “Of course the little boy that wanted to be a knight would daydream about living in a castle.”

“What is this?” Elton asked, genuinely surprised.

Across a large pond, on it’s own island, sat The Castle. It was of modern-ish build and looked like the owner had wanted to live in a Medieval Times restaurant. There were towers and siege equipment scattered around the grounds. The entire thing was abandoned and looked it.

“Welcome,” Terry said, “to McGee Castle.” He began walking down the raised drive over the pond toward the structure. His friends followed.

“You’ve been here before, I’m guessing?” Delores asked. She’d been smiling almost nonstop since that morning.

“Oh yeah,” he said. “I used to come out here and explore. It’s been abandoned for twenty years or more, I think. One summer, me and George got that trebuchet working.”

Terry pointed at one that was in marginally better shape than the others.

“Ernest told me you were into that kind of stuff,” Elton said.

“Yeah. I used to have more time for it.” Terry missed that part of his life. “Anyway, Sean gave us firing coordinates and we’d gotten a bunch of watermelons on the verge of going bad. We spent two days chucking them across the lake. We set up some plywood targets. It was a lot of fun.”

“Tell me about these day dreams you had,” Delores said, leaning into him.

“Well, I always wanted to live here.” He shrugged. “I wanted to fix it up. Make it a REAL castle. Get rid of that glass box on top of that tower. I think it had been a greenhouse.” Terry sighed. “I didn’t have much beyond that. I didn’t see a lot in my future. After a while I’d settled on the idea of being a knight errant.” He looked into Delores’s eyes. “Maybe now I can make other plans.”

She blushed. He hadn’t directly asked her to marry him. At least, he didn’t think he had. He didn’t feel right asking her. Not after just getting together. But he wanted to. She was his world. She had been for months. But she’d nodded. Terry still felt like his heart was going to burst.

“You two are going to make me throw up,” Elton said. He was smiling as he said it, though.

Delores just stuck her tongue out at Elton and Terry laughed. Thunder was running in circles and seemed to be watching the pond as they crossed.

“So what would you do with it now?” Delores asked. “If you had your way?”

Terry suddenly felt embarrassed. He’d given this more thought than he cared to admit lately. He’d started having hopes.

“Well,” he began, “first, that tower there? Like I said, the glass box is coming off. I’d make that a mage’s tower for you. There’d be bookshelves everywhere. I could help you copy spells into journals instead of notebooks.”

She stared at him. He colored.

“You’d help me copy spells?” she asked softly.

“Well, yeah. You’ve got a lot of notebooks. Why wouldn’t I?”

She squeezed his arm.

“And you wonder why I think you’re going to disappear. You’re like a fairy tale sometimes.” She squeezed his arm tightly.

Terry just turned more red and looked away, trying to hide his grin. He scratched the back of his head.

“What about you, though?” She asked. “You can’t just do whatever it is your job would be all the time, can you?” He had no idea what that would be now that she mentioned it. “You need hobbies. I WANT you to have hobbies, Terry.”

Terry smiled.

“I kinda thought the garage around the side needed some attention. I don’t think I’d ever want to work on machines professionally, not as a job, but I’d love to have a shop or something.”

God, that would be the perfect life, wouldn’t it? Between helping people? Just living with Delores and doing something he enjoyed. He had never thought life could be remotely like that.

“And what about Elton?” Delores asked, grinning. Elton looked at them.

“Yeah, Terry. What ABOUT Elton?” the bard asked with a smirk.

“We could keep him in the tool shed.”

Delores and Elton both laughed.

“Seriously though, there is so much room in there. You’d have a study, man. An office. Whatever you wanted to call it.” Terry realized there was a tear running down his cheek. Delores wiped it away with her finger.

“You ok?” she asked.

“I never dreamed of, well, having dreams before. It might not be here, but I want this, Delores. I’ve never wanted something more in my life. Even more than being a knight. I just have to figure out how to make it work.”

They approached the front of the Castle, and Terry was so caught up in his day dreams, he almost missed the double doors opening, and a minotaur stepping out surrounded by robed figures in masks.

Next Chapter

Previous Chapter

This chapter is a major course correction from when I did this story as a comic. Jack is such a tragic character in his own way, and there's so much more to go over with him. We'll see more toward the end of the book and in the next books as well. The Takewells were originally characters from the comic version of the story. As always, the didn’t get the attention or development I thought they deserved because I’m a better writer than an artist. Yeah, I said it. What of it?

ANYWAY, I’ve been so much happier with the side stories in here this time around. I hope it shows. I’ll see you guys next time. Thanks for reading, and stay safe.

Jack in the Leaves

Jack in the Leaves had been a companion to humanity for as long as it had existed. He was the face watching from the forest. Often feared, but always present. He had been their protector and guardian. His father had told him such. He was born for that purpose. Even after his Sin, after his banishment from Tir-Na-Nog, and after the Sundering, he had still tried to protect them.

The Church had taken him in at the founding. Paul had placed him as a foundation, IN the foundations, of his new Church and Jack had guided them. He’d held it together quietly. The Eastern and Western Churches had reunited. Martin Luther had been satisfied. Every threat, Jack had defused. He loved humanity, even with its flaws. It was those flaws he sought to correct.

But that whole time, over two thousand years, he had been held in the Secret Archives. As Guardian and Chief Display. Then, this new Pope. a younger man. a man of the people, had asked the question.

“Why do we treat our greatest asset as a prisoner?”

Jack had been summoned to the Paul VI Audience Hall and brought before a large council. He hadn’t been above ground in so, so long. That walk there with his hood up would have been worth countless indignities. To see the sun again…

He’d stood before them and been forced to hear men argue about why he shouldn’t be allowed to stand before of them. They argued that he must be kept secret. The Pope and several others offered counterpoints to their arguments. It seemed almost like a simple courtesy, but the new Pope spoke with such passion. Conti had stepped forward and chastised them all over the cruelty of keeping a plant from the sun. He smiled listening to the man that should have been his son. Finally, he was allowed to speak. He’d made it halfway through his argument that he would eventually die from the conditions of his captivity, when a massive surge hit the mana web and had caused Jack to pass out. He came to with Conti and the Pope standing over him. Conti had tears in his eyes. The Pope was terrified.

That incident had been troubling, but fortuitous. It had made them consider his health, finally, and consider where they would be with the loss of his council. They’d decided that things had to change because the risk wasn’t worth it any more. The Pope had formally, and publicly, apologized for his treatment. The world knew Jack in the Leaves existed. He’d been interviewed on the news. Conti had called him a “media darling”. Jack didn’t know what that really meant, but it sounded flattering.

And that was how Jack found himself sitting in a private jet for the very first time, watching clouds roll by below him. He was excited and when he looked up, Conti sat across from him smiling. It felt like their roles were reversed and Jack didn’t care. He felt alive again.

“You’ve done this often in my service, haven’t you, Conti?”

“More times than I can count, my lord.” The aged man said. Jack tried to pay attention but his eyes kept going back to the tiny window and the world far below him.

“Conti, while I can at least pay some attention, could you review the facts we have about the mana flux that struck me? I may be able to fill in a detail or two if I have the full information.” Jack said, trying to force the smile from his mycelial face. It didn’t work.

“Well, my lord,” Conti said, as he pulled up a tablet, “The flux was centered in Louisiana. We’ve centered it over the former town of Dans la Bouche.”

“Former?” Jack turned. He knew of the town. The Old Ones had few holds still on the surface.

“Yes.” Conti continued. “When our people arrived, every man, woman, and child had been wiped from the Earth. Not that they’d had many children, thank the Lord.”

“So the town was leveled?” Jack asked.

“No, my lord. The town is fine. It’s like a divine hand reached down and struck the occupants from the globe.”

Jack watched Conti for a time.

“I’m willing to wager that Terry Lingal had been in New Orleans shortly before hand, or shortly after?” he asked his caretaker.

Conti scrolled until he found what he needed and blinked.

“Yes, my lord. How did you know?”

“I know what he is, Conti. His mother was a mage. His father was a knight. He wants to have it both ways. Or, he is trying to and doesn’t realize it.” Jack said, propping his chin on his thumb and forefinger.

“Still, my lord, there are people that think this may have been more than one man could perform. It may have been a move by the Circle of the Greenman?”

“No, Conti. The Circle is tied too closely to the Old Ones in many ways. It was Lingal. And he has my sword.”

Neither of them said anything for a very long time.

“My lord,” Conti began, but he looked around to make sure the cabin was empty before continuing, “JACK. You said your sword was gone. You’d tried to summon it. How could an Errant Apprentice from the backwaters of Mississippi of all places have it?! Even if he IS a wizard?!”

Jack smiled. The rare moments that Conti let the servant role drop were precious to him.

“How he has it, I don’t know,” Jack said. “I’d heard stories that Glen had gained an enchanted sword. I’d not thought about it because who today in the Order DOESN’T have one. Even Lawless had received one. They’re available online. But this?”

He looked out the window. The clouds had lost some of his interest finally.

“No, Conti, I know the feeling of my sword effecting the web. I might have missed it pulling mana into itself, but that surge? It effected the entire web. It was like a signal. A flare.”

He looked at his long time companion.

“Do you know what this means?”

“No, my lord. I don’t.”

Jack smiled.

“It means that the major plan we had? It might not be necessary. Not if I can regain what is mine. I’ll need Lingal taken, of course. If I can absorb him, then perhaps I won’t need to feed any more.” He thought about it. “We’ll need to take his partner, Cody, as well.”

He watched Conti sigh with relief. Their main plan had been risky. It would also be very public. This would be more simple. He could simply travel up the Axis Mundi to where he needed to be.

“My lord,” Conti said, “If we take Ms. Cody, it could be a bargaining chip.”

“Perhaps. I’d rather deal with this when we land though. I want to go over the bare minimum with Takewell.” Jack said. He brightened. “Conti, I want to see New Orleans. I want to walk the streets. I want to see everything I can before the world is remade.” His excitement returned, and Conti smiled at him.

“My lord, I will personally escort you. It would be my pleasure.” The old man looked happier than Jack had seen him since finding him in the ruins of Europe after the war.

Father Alexander Takewell was in as close to a panic as he had ever been. Jack in the Leaves was going to land in a short time. He’d met the. . . Man?. . . Once. The entity was full of machinations and plots. Always plots. The world learning of his existence? It was part of something. Then there was that creepy old man he kept with him. Conti. The boot-lick.

Anyway, the first thing he did was call Steve into his office. As soon as he came in, Alex was hit with pain. Technically his brother was dead. He’d been dead for years. He’d never let go of what was left, though. He’d never stop hoping. Alex wiped his face with his hands to try and stop himself from tearing up. Now wasn’t the time.

“Are you all right, Alex?” Steve asked him.

“No. No I’m not all right, but that doesn’t matter. I’ve had word that we may be going after Lingal. I know a guy who knows a guy that works with Jack in the Leaves.”

“That goes counter to our previous instructions.” Steve said.

“I know it does. This is Jack. He can change plans at the drop of a hat and leave us dangling in the wind. Well, I want someone out there tracking him down that I can trust to fuck it up on purpose. Steve, take a cleric and two of the guards and go to Raymond.”

Steve blinked and looked surprised.

“Do we know that is where he is?”

“Nope. But he’s Glen’s boy and I tried to break him. He’s probably gone home.” Alex said, looking through his desk frantically. “I’m going to try and get in touch with him in a way that hopefully can’t be linked back to me. I’ll tell him who he can and can’t trust. You’re on that list.”

Steve watched his brother for a moment, then walked around the desk and knelt beside him.
“I know what you’re doing, Alex. You don’t have to do this. I’m not worth it.”

“Shut up! You shut up!” Alex found himself yelling. The tears he’d tried to hold back earlier finally breaking through. He grabbed his brother’s shoulders.

“I don’t care what they did to you. I don’t care what you are now. You are STILL my brother Steven. You’re also my subordinate, and you’re going to do this. You know what Jack will do. I couldn’t save you before. I’ll save what I can this time. I’m sorry.”

Steve pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to Alex, which he took gladly. He cleaned his face.

“That is correct. I AM your subordinate. I had to at least try and stop you, though.” Steve said. Sometimes Alex thought there was just a bit of his brother left.

“Well I need you to go. Now.” Alex said, keeping the handkerchief. He wouldn’t want it back used. “When you find him? Stay with him. You understand me? Stay with him. Stay with him and bring him to me. Keep him safe. I’ll tell you where to hide him till then. I still don’t know what all this is about, but if Jack is interested it can’t be good.”

Alex finally found what he was looking for. An old cellphone. He turned it on, let it boot, and watched as Steve nodded and walked out of the office for hopefully the last time. Once the phone was booted, he found his old email app and typed something up for Lingal. He was very careful of his wording. He had to go back and try to remember the exact wording of Lingal’s vow. The boy was cunning AND a wordsmith. Well, Alex Takewell may not be a writer, but he was a survivor and cunning enough for any two knights, and that was all that counted in the end.

Finally satisfied, he broke the phone in half and threw it in the garbage. He poured his coffee on it, then put a mound of trash on top of it for good measure. Alex went over his office once to make sure there was nothing the plant or the old man could take umbrage with, then sat at his desk waiting for them to arrive.

The hell he would.

Alex packed some things he was certain he would need then left the office so quickly that no one had a chance to ask where he was going.

Next Chapter

Previous Chapter

I… I really wish this chapter was more fiction than it is. I’ve been in this graveyard before. I’ve stood in row after row of my family. I am the “Last Hayman Standing” as one of my late sister’s kids said. As much as I’d love to go back out to Smith County and see the old homestead and see the places of my youth, I know I’ll end up at that little church and I’ll stand there in the row where my past is buried.

The Last Lingal

Terry had initially intended to take Delores on a lone walk after the AMA, but after everything they’d talked about, both he AND Delores decided Elton didn’t need to be alone. So that was how Terry found himself walking south on the road in front of the farm. Elton ambled along on one side looking at the woods. Delores held his hand on the other.

“So where are we going?” Delores asked.

Terry just smiled.

“There’s somewhere I wanted to show you while we’re here. Given what I know about you I figured you’d appreciate this.”

He caught her giving him the side-eye. He just smiled. He looked over at Elton.

“You ok?”

“Yeah.” Elton said, just watching Terry’s quiet world. “You sure you’re ok with me tagging along like this?”

“Elton, you’re my friend. I’m sorry I haven’t been acting like it lately. Me and D have just been distracted.” Terry said. “You’ve done more for me than I could possibly thank you for.”

The bard grinned, and Terry felt happy. But suddenly there was something inside him now waiting for the disaster to come. He felt Delores squeeze his hand.

“I know that face.” She said. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m happy, Delores. Why do I feel like something’s about to steal it?”

Delores let go of his hand and hugged his arm.

“My poor hero. You have anxiety.”

“Do I?” He didn’t know that was a thing to just have.

Delores nodded and looked him in the eyes. She squeezed his arm.

“No one is going to steal this from you, Terry. No one is going to show up and tell you that you haven’t earned any of this. Happiness isn’t something you earn. You are right where you belong.”

Terry just looked at her. Somewhere, somehow, he had done something amazing that had warranted her coming into his life. Both of them, honestly. Delores smiled and looked away. She almost seemed shy.

“What?” Terry asked.

“I know you told me you love me, and that’s huge. It’s just that, the way you look at me? Like now? It drives it home even harder.” She said.

“Is it a problem?” He asked. He knew he could be kind of a lot to deal with.

“No, Terry.” She said. “No one’s ever looked at me the way you do. Damn it, farmboy, you make me want to giggle like a child sometimes.”

She absolutely refused to look at him after that, so he did what she always did to him. He brought them both to a stop. Then, he very gently placed his fingers on her chin and turned her to face him. She was blushing and failing to stop the smile on her face. She was looking at him through her eyelashes again.

“I saw a unicorn once.” He found himself saying. He heard Elton suddenly step closer. He didn’t care if the man was taking notes or recording or something. This was for Delores. Anyone else was just a witness.

“Terry, that is extremely rare.” Delores said, wide eyed. “Do you know how big a deal that is?”

“I do.” He said. “They only show themselves to the pure of heart or the young.”

“When was this?” She asked.

“When I was escorting those goblins from Mendenhall. I was fifteen or so. The first morning of the march I was ranging ahead to make sure the way was safe since we were headed cross-country. Lots of chances for attack out there.”

He remembered that morning so well.

“I stumbled into a clearing and there it was. I think it must have been a female, unless they all look that frail. It almost looked like the one from that 80’s animated movie.”

He put his arms around her. He did, in fact, have a point to this. She seemed content to let him reach it in his own time.

“It had been grazing. It looked up at me and I froze. We locked eyes for what felt like hours but it couldn’t have even been a minute.”

He didn’t think he’d ever told anyone about this until now.

“A minute later it turned and leaped from the clearing. It didn’t go into the woods. Just half way to the edge of the clearing it faded. They’re one of the few things that can move between here and the Everywhen at will. That’s why they’re so rare.”

Terry looked into Delores eyes and brushed his fingers against her cheek.

“Until I pulled into Biloxi, it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.”

“Terry,” She said, giving him a smirk, “You don’t have to. . .” She stopped. She’d remembered.

“I don’t lie, Delores. I don’t lie, and I don’t flatter.”

She looked like she was going to cry, but instead she took his face in her hands and kissed him. It went on for quite some time. When she finally pulled away she blushed, and looked over at Elton, who was grinning like a maniac. Terry colored, remembering they had an audience.

“I reiterate, I don’t know that you actually need me sometimes, Terry.” Elton said. “But, this is the exact sort of thing I want in the Chronicles.” Elton smiled. “You two are both just too damned beautiful.” He shook his head.

Terry cleared his throat.

“We should probably keep going while the sun is up.” He said and they continued on, Delores hanging on his arm and actually letting herself giggle every now and again.

Finally, they reached a cleared space beside the road surrounded by a wrought iron fence and gate. There were no trees inside the fenced in area. What was there were tombstones. Delores immediately started emitting a high pitched squealing sound. She kissed him on the cheek.

“You really DO take me to the best places!” She said before opening the gate and immediately launching into a study of the oldest stones she could find.

Terry smiled at Elton and followed her in. Elton just shook his head.

“Terry,” Elton said, “has anyone ever asked you what storybook you stumbled out of?”

“Actually? Yes. A couple of times over the years.” He laughed at that. Elton started strolling through the stones and reading names. Terry casually made his way toward the back corner.

“Terry?” Delores called. “All of these are Lingals.”

He turned to her.

“Yeah. Besides Dottie and Ernest, this is my family.”

There was a long silence before Delores began looking through the headstones again. She seemed much more solemn. Elton walked over.

“You have another reason to be here, don’t you. This isn’t just to satisfy Delores’s grave fascination.” Elton was too good at this.

“Yeah.” He said quietly. “I do. It’s not a secret, but give it a few. Timing is important.”

Elton nodded and Terry continued his slow walk to the back right corner. Any minute now, he thought. He reached his spot and turned to his friends.

“Guys.” He said. His friends turned to him, then the sun hit the exact right spot in the trees. The golden light of the autumn sun shone through on the back corner and illuminated two grave stones that were cleaner than the others. Terry stood by the fence as his party approached. He put his hands in his pockets.

“Oh, Terry.” Delores said. She’d figured it out already.

“Delores? Elton? These are my parents, Glen and Marie.” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Mom? Dad? This is my party.”

No one spoke for a time. Elton held up his phone questioningly, and Terry nodded. The man took photos while the golden moment lasted. Delores knelt and looked at the stones. They were the newest in the yard.

“They’re so clean.” She said. “They’re twenty years old though.”

“Yes.” Terry said quietly. “During the lean times I come out here and check on them. I talk to them.”

They both looked at him. He must sound insane.

“Anyway,” he continued, “I come out here and clean their stones twice a year. I sneak back to the farm when Dottie and Ernest are out or asleep and get cleaning supplies. I don’t have. . .” His voice caught. He cleared his throat again. “I don’t have anything else to give them.”

Delores stood, watching him. Elton had stopped taking photos of all of them to do the same.

“Terry,” Elton said, “These are the newest stones in the yard.”

“Yes.” Terry replied.

“There’s not much room left.” He said.

“No.” Terry replied.

“Is there another graveyard somewhere else?” Delores asked.

“No.” Terry replied. “There isn’t any more room needed. After Ernest and Dottie, I’m going to be the last one in.”

He’d thought on that a lot as a child. Too much for a child. Knowing he was it. The last of the line and going into a profession that would probably keep him from not only having a family, but dying alone somewhere at the hands of a thing that wouldn’t leave enough to bury. Like his father.

“I guess I just wanted you two to come out here and see this. This is the last piece of me. The last thing that no one knows. The last part I don’t talk about.”

He remained silent and no one seemed inclined to break that silence.

“There’s nothing left to share.” Terry finally said. “A sad little boy who couldn’t accept a part of himself, running away into the woods to fight monsters. His only companions were voices and the dead.”

He shook his head.

“I should have asked about mom more. I should have done a lot of things more.”

Delores barreled into him with a hug. He hugged her back as hard as he dared. He felt Elton rubbing his back. It broke loose again. Terry wept quietly.

Finally, after a time, Delores spoke to him.

“I would like to come and help you clean them, if you’ll let me.”

He couldn’t say anything, so he just nodded into her neck. Eventually he managed to get something out.

“Thank you.” He said, voice rough.

“Terry,” Elton said, and he turned to the bard. “I don’t know that this is really going to help at all, but, if you hadn’t lived the life you lived? If you hadn’t made the choices you made and become who you are, none of us would be standing here like this.”

Terry lifted his head.

“It may have hurt,” Elton continued, “because I know our paths have hurt all of us, but it put all of us here and I feel like those journeys were worth it in the end.”

Terry just looked at him. He’d finally stopped crying, and then Elton went and said something like this.

“Don’t you EVER,” Terry said, “tell me that I don’t need you, Elton Beasley. Ever.”

Elton smiled and just nodded. The bard looked to Delores and something passed between them, so Elton took a short walk to look at headstones while there was still light. Terry looked at Delores as she turned back to him.

“You ok?” He asked, and she smiled.

“You just had either a break DOWN or a break THROUGH. Don’t worry about me.” She thought about that. “Well, maybe worry about one thing with me.”

Terry looked confused, but Delores pressed her forehead against his. That close she looked like she had one eye and it always made him grin like an idiot.

“I love you, my beautiful, beautiful hero.” She said quietly, before giving him a single kiss.

He stared at her before picking her up in a massive hug that lifted her off the ground and slinging her around, making growling noises. She laughed and kept protesting to be put down, but he didn’t really believe that. She wouldn’t have held on so hard if she’d meant it. He finally sat her feet on the ground.

“What changed? He asked her quietly. He glanced at Elton and the man had such a satisfied smile on his face as he wandered the rows of graves.

“After hoping, and wanting, and trying so hard to get to you? I had to ask myself why I would stop this close to the finish line, with you standing right there.” She laid her head on his shoulder.
“Besides, you already knew. I didn’t feel right not telling you.”

For a time, Terry and Delores just stood there in front of his parents headstones together. Elton seemed content to wait there, sight seeing, until the graveyard was draped in shadows.

“Hey, uh, lovebirds? Can we go back and get inside? Given the number of monsters Terry has fought out here, I don’t want to be out here after dark. I don’t care if it IS the lean times” The bard said.

Terry looked at him.

“That’s actually a really good point. It’s pretty dark out here already.” Terry said.

Delores stepped back from him and Terry pulled his sword out and held it over his head, blade parallel to the ground. The blade was shining and acted as a shockingly effective torch. Terry lead them through the darkness to the gate, and as he did he heard something moving in the woods outside the fence, behind the yard.

He stopped for just a moment to look behind him and thought he saw a shadowed form streak upward into the trees.

“Stay with me, D, and get ready to let something fly if anything goes down.” Terry said. He saw fear on Elton’s face. Delores just nodded and her components on her wrists began glowing the eye twisting colors of attuned mana. Their walk back to the house was faster than the walk out, but thankfully, just as quiet.

Terry had Elton go back inside where Ernest and Dottie were, having returned from their visit. He turned to Delores.

“Can you put some kind of protections on the house from out here? I’ll watch your back while you do it.” He asked. He wasn’t afraid for himself, but if anything happened to Dottie or Ernest while he was there? He didn’t know what he’d do.

“I can. I probably should have the first night. Keep your sword up so I can see. I just need to hit the corners. ALL the corners, top and bottom.” She said.

It took about half an hour for her to get the spell enacted. Terry kept his sword up for the light so Delores could see, but he thought it might help to keep anything at bay. Sometimes, at the edges of the farm where the tree line was, Terry thought he saw something. He couldn’t be sure. He was jumpy.

He wished he’d learned a few actual spells over the years. Nothing flashy. Just night vision. Or infra-vision. Something. But now wasn’t the time for regrets. He had enough skill in fighting blindfolded that he wasn’t concerned with visibility. Just with where it would happen.

Afterward, Dottie and Ernest waited for them in the living room.

“Yer bard was pretty shook so I poured him some scotch and he’s in the kitchen.” Ernest said. “What’s goin’ on here, son?”

Terry looked out the windows but he couldn’t see anything with the lights on. They should have warning with Delores’s spell.

“I don’t know. Something is up and I’d rather be safe. If anything happens, anything at all, wake me.” He said, putting a hand on Ernest’s shoulder.

Ernest nodded.

“First time I think you ever dragged work home with ya.” He said, a wry smile on his face.

Terry smiled, but then his face went white.

“DAVID!” He was off like a shot out the back door, sword out. He felt like he was being watched as he crossed the yard. He still wasn’t sure if he was being paranoid. He got to the trailer and looked around blade high. Nothing. He pounded on the door. It swung open and the porch light turned on. David stood there confused.

“What’s wrong?” He said, looking around at the yard.

“Maybe nothing, but get your armor, you sword, and some clothes. I want you in the house tonight.”

Terry looked around again. Still no sign of anything.

“What is it, though?”

“I really don’t know but something is wrong out here tonight. Just please come to the house.” He pleaded. Something in his tone shook the boy finally, and he grabbed his things in a large duffel bag and followed Terry to the house.

After David was inside, Terry stood on the old back porch and sheathed his sword. He stood there in the dark, waiting for his eyes to adjust. It was a moonless night. There was nothing he could make out, even after his eyes did adjust. Just the farm he knew better than anywhere else.

“I swear, if I’ve brought something here I’ll never forgive myself.” He mumbled before going inside.

The shadows in the trees watched silently, before melting back into the woods. They had just been sent to watch. Nothing happened that night.

Next Chapter

Previous Chapter

Hey guys! This chapter was interesting. I went to the fans of my writing and my podcast on my discord and asked them “If you could ask Terry and Delores anything in an AMA on Reddit, what would you ask them?”

The response was funny, interesting, and touching. Mostly in that it reminded me that there are people invested in this thing. I took those questions for this chapter and had Terry and Delores answer them. I thought it was a pretty fun idea. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Ask Me Anything

“Ok. What is this AMA thing again?” Terry asked for what felt like the hundredth time. Elton sighed and patiently explained again. He explained that people were leaving questions and would be asking questions during the event. He explained that Terry would answer some of those questions. He explained that there would be mods to keep things civil.

Elton had made Terry write up a sign that morning and taken a photo. He posted it in r/ModernKnights and the note read that they’d be doing an AMA that afternoon with THE Errant Apprentice. The response, according to Elton, had been nothing short of shocking. Even Elton had been surprised. Delores was almost giddy. Terry was nervous and more than a little upset. He’d said ages ago that fame would get in the way of what he wanted to do. He was afraid that was in real danger of happening.

Terry had managed to distract himself by taking both Elton and Delores to meet Dwumbra. That had been a great trip. Dwumbra had been ecstatic to see him again. He had greeted Terry’s party warmly and had immediately launched into stories about Terry’s tally. He’d told Delores about the times Terry had volunteered to work on motorcycles in trade, so he could train on them. He had nothing but praise for Terry’s “deft hands”. Delores looked like she was trying to not make dirty comments the entire time.

So now, here they were. They were all sitting there waiting to start this thing. Terry on his phone, Delores on Elton’s tablet, and Elton on his laptop. Dottie and Ernest had gone to visit neighbors to give them some privacy. Start time rolled around and the questions were there. Terry wasn’t really paying any attention to his phone. Elton posted an introduction for Terry. Terry posted “Uh, hi” and people went nuts.

Delores and Elton started pointing out questions.

“Ok!” Elton said, cracking his knuckles. “First question. “How much do you get paid? Is there a health plan knights get?” He looked up at Terry. “Pretty basic to start with.” Terry just stared at Elton.

“You know the answer to that. Why do I need to be the one to answer?” Terry asked. He felt uncomfortable already. “Hey! Why don’t you just claim to be me and do this yourself!” Terry hated the idea as soon as he suggested it.

“Because this isn’t the “ASK ELTON” show, Terry. You’re the one people are fascinated with. People are smitten with the idea of an idealistic hero in a world of degenerate knights. They want to get to know you.” Elton said, just watching Terry. “I don’t know how else to stress that you’re a god damned hero and the world needs that right now. Badly.”

Terry sighed. He guessed this was part of the job whether he liked it or not. He picked his phone up.

HPK: How much do you get paid? Is there a healthplan knights get?

ErrantAPP: We get paid whatever people feel we’re worth normally. The Tally System is a nice way of saying “bounty system”. Monster types are worth certain amounts and the Order pays that out from a fund provided for their service by the National and State governments. Our healthcare plan is any mage we can find. I hope that helps.

Elton grinned.

“Good! Friendly and approachable! And don’t get cute.” Elton said, but suddenly frowned. “Hang on. Mods are banning a couple of people.”

“What for?” Terry asked.

“They just keep asking ‘are you fucking the mage yet’ and we’re getting them shut down as fast as we can.” Elton said with a scowl.

Delores cackled as Terry turned red.

“Well, I’m glad this isn’t video.” Terry mumbled.

“Oooow. We’ll do that next time, Terry.” Elton said. “Take another question.”

Terry grumbled as he scrolled.

ElChongotheMunki: If I served jail time can I still qualify to be a knight?

ErrantAPP: Apparently. It’s a great way to turn your life around, if you’ll take it. I wish you the best, ElChongo.

Delores looked at him after that one, and patted his leg.

“Very measured response. I know how you feel about that stuff.” She said.

Terry smiled and went looking for more.

“Uh, this one’s for you, D.” He said, suddenly smiling.

Delores looked alarmed, and Elton looked up.

“We figured this might happen. Just be brief.” The bard said to her.

LostLenora: for delores: any advice for an aspiring mage? things you wish you did or learned sooner? things you wish you didnt do?

MAGEorPROBLEM: Advice? If you can do magic, there is no reason anyone should stop you. It’s a part of you. Never deny who you are. Things I wished I’d learned sooner? How to expand my capacity safely. Things I wished I hadn’t done? Always check the difference between a spell and a curse. Trust me on that one.

“Ok. More bans. JESUS these people are horny as hell.” Elton said, raising his eyebrows. “And people keep asking me how often I shit my pants on a given adventure. Alice and Juan are taking care of it. Ok. Terry, scroll down to HPK’s next one. This guy is a goldmine.”

HPK: Is it true that when you become a knight there is a system interface that grants you access to your party skills that proves we live in a simulation? What level is the dungeon beneath the Vatican?

ErrantAPP: To answer your fist question, I have no idea what any of that means. All you get as a knight is a stipend every month to help support you and a chance to choose your role. Knight Errant or Knight Protector. I’ve heard about the Vatican Dungeon before. I’m guessing floor 13 if it exists? I dunno, man. You ok?

Elton laughed out loud at that one and Terry grinned.

“Ok, not anything really bad but we have a bunch of people posting links to their Terry/Delores fanfics. Yikes.” Elton said. Delores turned to hide her screen.

“I’m bookmarking those.” Delores said. Terry looked at her. “To get them shut down!” she yelped.

“Sure you are.” Terry said, raising an eyebrow. She was bizarrely obsessed with what the internet thought about them. Terry continued scrolling.

TheGhostForge: Is there a moment from when you were a squire that you’re proudest of?

ErrantAPP: There was a brood of goblins down near Mendenhall that the land owner wanted wiped out. It was early spring and they’d lost their hunter/gatherers during the winter. I knew there was another brood near Raymond that I’d worked with before that could help them out, so I spent three days marching them from Mendenhall to Raymond. They made it. They’re out near Canton now. I think that was in 2017. I still keep tabs on them.

Delores looked up and smiled at him. He grinned back.

“It’s not all monsters.” Was all he said.

“I want you to tell me about more things like that.” She said, and squeezed his knee.

“Terry,” Elton said, “We’re getting a lot of Mazes & Monsters questions about you.

“What is that?”

“It’s a tabletop RPG where people pretend to be heroes or monsters. It’s like a board game without the board.”

Terry nodded. For some reason that made sense to him. It also sounded kinda fun. Sean probably knew all about it.

“What kind of questions?” He asked.

“What stats should they use to play as you at level 3. That kind of stuff.”

“I’ve got this one.” Delores said and started typing.

Terry read her response.

“What is ‘OP’, and why am I OP?”

She giggled.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll tell you later.” She said.

Terry found another one from a previous questioner.

LostLenora: If you were unable to use a sword what would your next melee weapon of choice be?

ErrantAPP: Probably a mace. It’s built at least close enough to a sword that I could adapt and it’s sort of an extension of my fists. Other than that, my fists. I can’t drop them or be easily disarmed with those.

Elton blinked as a grin spread across his face.

“Ok. First, people are asking if we have a merch store. Gonna have to look into that. Second, we’re getting sponsorship requests. Mostly beer though.”

“No beer.” Terry said. Elton looked up to argue, saw Terry’s face, and just nodded.

“Terry, someone has a question about party dynamics for you.” Delores said.

CassiB42: What is your stance on rogue types in the party?

ErrantAPP: In the party? I have no problem with someone using their natural talents to help people. It’s the whole “stealing” thing we’d have to watch out for. Even then, theft can have its own nobility. If stealing to feed the starving is a crime, then maybe we should re-evaluate what crime is. I think we need a better name for “rogues” though.

Elton suddenly erupted into a geyser of expletives.

“What?” Terry asked, concerned.

“I’ve been trying to get this asshole banned since he asked if I shit my pants. “Is the pudgy guy your squire?” Man, eat me a fuzzy marshmellow.” Elton said, typing furiously.

Terry just shook his head. Elton was having a more difficult time with this than he was.

BlueCanaryLITE: What’s the furthest place you’ve traveled to kill a monster? Also, what monster is the most annoying/pain in the ass to deal with?

ErrantAPP: Well, I had to go to Dothan, Alabama once at someone’s request for my second dragon. First and only time I fought a bronze one. Electric types are tough. Most annoying? Anything I need a blindfold to deal with. Cockatrice, Medusa, anything with a deadly gaze.

Terry found himself getting into a rhythm and was enjoying himself. Delores would chime in occasionally. Elton would swear violently about someone asking about “the fat guy”. They told him the AMA would run for half an hour. Terry managed to stay engaged and kept it up for just over a full hour.

Elton ran his fingers through his hair.

“Ok. The trolls are getting worse. I think someone posted a link to 4chan. Find one more question and then we’re shutting it down. I’ll do the exit post.” Elton said.

Terry looked up.

“You’re sure? I could go for a little while longer if you wanted.”

Delores looked at him with a smile and a look of surprise.

“What did you do to him, Elton?” She asked jokingly.

“No. You’ve already run over our time. I’m glad you got into it though. Pick your last question.”

Terry scrolled. He wanted to find something good to end on. Something that might sum up his world view. He found one.

RazmataztheElder: Why do you do what you do? What keeps you doing this in the face of what’s actually going on out here?

ErrantAPP: The only reason to keep doing anything. Love.

Delores looked shocked. He glanced at her.

“What?”

“That’s my friend. In New Orleans.” She looked happy, but there was worry there. He could tell.

“Let them read that how ever they want. There’s not enough love out there anyway. It’s the only thing that’s going to save us.” Terry said.

Elton looked up at that. He suddenly seemed to weigh Terry.

“Sometimes I wonder if you really need me, man.”

“I’m always gonna need you, Elton. Don’t ever doubt how important you are to all this.” Terry said. Delores hugged him.

Elton just nodded and shut down the AMA, then closed his laptop.

“Terry,” he asked, “what’s the plan? Because I’m frightened.”

Terry looked at Elton in surprise.

“Of what?” He asked the bard.

“I don’t mean to sound like your uncle, but you’re changing. That scares me. I know Delores and me both followed you because you wanted to help people, but for me there’s more.”

“Like what?” Delores asked.

Elton looked at a loss for what to say, but he recovered.

“I’m out here for both of you. I’ve seen so much shit in the world, you guys. Everyone I know is so wrapped up in capitalistic bullshit that they welcomed me leaving. As long as I stay out here and don’t make waves for them back home. And then I met you two.”

Terry leaned forward as tears started rolling down Elton’s cheeks.

“I’m not out here to make money. I HAVE money.” Elton said. “I’m not out here to be the best writer. I know that’s not going to happen. But there’s something terrible inside me. I’ve seen it. It comes to me. It wants me to do terrible things to the world. To people. It gives me ideas of what I can do and those things are awful. And that thing is me. It’s the part of me that’s my father. It’s the part of me that’s a Beasley. Doing this? Doing this is my sword. This is how I can fight the monster.”

Terry stood and moved to sit beside Elton. He saw Delores do the same. Terry wrapped his friend in an embrace.

“You two can do it.” Elton mumbled.

“Do what, Elton?” Delores asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“You saw the AMA. People LOVE you two. They need you two. The WORLD needs you two. You can change things. Both of you.”

Terry sat back but kept an arm around Elton.

“I don’t know if I understand. You know me, Elton. I’m dense. Explain it like I’m a kid.”

Elton looked at him with something approaching frustration.

“I still don’t know how you can’t see it. You change everyone and everything you touch, Terry. Every where we go, you leave a trail of people that want to be heroes. Not knights, Terry. They know what knights are. They want to be YOU.” He turned to Delores. “Both of you.” Elton’s voice still shook with emotion.

Terry shared a look with Delores and he saw something he hadn’t expected from her. Confirmation. She agreed. Terry felt anxious.

“Everyone talks about saving the world from monsters.” Elton said, gaining his composure back as he spoke. “And that’s all well and good. But you? You can save the world from itself. You help save them from the monsters inside themselves. And you don’t need magic to do it. It doesn’t matter how far you jump or how much you lift in the end. It’s that you’re willing to try, and you never stop trying.”

Elton was still looking at Terry like he could make him see it. Terry wasn’t sure that he SHOULD see this. Or that he wanted to.

“The hero the world needs isn’t the man who fought a giant made of plants or rushes into battle trying to get himself killed all the time. It’s the man that rescued a little girl. It’s the guy that put his sword down and bought groceries for hungry goblins.” He stared into Terry’s eyes. “YOU said it. Love is the only thing that’s going to save us. Please don’t lose that. Please stay that person no matter what happens.”
Terry put his arms around Elton again and pulled him close in a hug.
“I love you, Elton. I wasn’t joking. I need you out here with me. I need both of you. Everything my life has been about, has either been a lie from the Order, or something that was within me. The only thing I have to guide me sometimes is how you and Delores see me. I have to live up to the person you see me as. I will hold true to that for you.”

Delores embraced them both. With that, Terry thought he might know what he needed to do.

Next Chapter

Previous Chapter

Aurora

It was mid-August. Well, Lance thought it was mid-August. It was hot and humid enough for it. He’d lost track of the days. He had ditched his shirt a while ago. He was sweating too much for it. He circled Lonnie with his shield raised, trying to keep the man from flanking him. They both had thick wooden dowels for practice swords and both were eying each other warily. Lance had more than one long bruise forming on his arms and back, along with the ones from previous days. Lonnie had one across his chest. Lance hated to think it was the only hit he’d score on the man on this day in particular.

“Focus.” Lonnie said. “You’re getting aggravated. Concentrate on defense. Worry about attack when you can. You can’t win a fight if you’re dead. Don’t get impatient.”

Lance didn’t reply. He just tried to drop every thought in his head and watch. It had taken him longer than he cared to admit to learn that trick. The sun was starting to sink lower now and it had been a while since either of them had scored a hit. He’d-

He’d become distracted again, and Lonnie noticed it. The old man rushed forward to attack. Lance blanked his mind and blocked. He managed to block every blow the learned old knight threw at him. He smashed Lonnie’s sword aside with his shield and took a swing at the man, but Lonnie blocked it, which gave him a chance to swing at Lance’s head. Instead of blocking, Lance dropped on his back and rolled backwards coming up on his feet. He raised his shield.

Lonnie smiled and lowered his arms.

“That was good! I was wondering when you’d realize you didn’t have to stand there and take this shit.”

Lance grinned. He walked over to an open train car and set his shield and practice sword down in exchange for a towel. He was drenched. As he looked around, he realized how late it must be.

“Can I stay one more night, Lonnie? I didn’t realize what time it was.”

“Sure kid. I’ll cook, you do the dishes. We do one more round though.” The old man said. He saw Lonnie turn and stop, looking at something toward the entrance.

“I don’t think that’s a visitor for me.” The old man said.

Lance walked up beside him and stared. It was a girl. She was Latina, had curly hair pulled into a ponytail, and he knew exactly who it was. Aurora. She was the girl from the other 10th. . .well, 11th grade class now. She was looking around as she walked in. He realized he hadn’t actually seen her since right after Lawless. Lonnie nudged him in the ribs.

“Shirt?” He said, and Lance suddenly felt embarrassed. He ran over and pulled his shirt back on and then walked back. He looked at Lonnie, who was shaking his head.

“May as well take a break. I’m kinda tired anyway. Youth is wasted on the young.” The old man said before sitting on a stack of tires.

Lance jogged to meet Aurora as she passed the office. They were in a cleared out spot between three train cars. It was a sort of box car canyon as it were where they did their practice.

“Hey!” he said as he came to a stop. “How are you? I haven’t seen you in a while.”

Aurora stopped and took him in. It made him nervous.

“Well, school started and no one’s seen you. I had to ask your parents where you were.” She said, head tilting.

“Oh. Right. School.” He’d completely forgotten. “I guess I’m taking a year off. Or something. I’ve been wrapped up in this.”

“Finally doing the knight thing, huh?” she asked. He grinned.

“Yeah. You know me. Single minded.”

An awkward silence fell. Lance put his hands in his pockets.

“I should have let someone know, I guess.” Was all he could think of to say.

She shrugged.

“I guess. You don’t really owe anyone an explanation. It’s not like any of us tried to join your resistance thing when Lawless was around.” Aurora said, looking around the yard.

That was true. Well, Aurora had seemed interested, but he’d been asking a lot of her. Of everyone, really.

“It was kind of a dumb idea, I guess. A bunch of kids trying to fight a knight? And that guy would have murdered us, for sure. Probably. You were better off not humoring me.”

“Still,” She said, looking at the ground, “a lot of the guys were taking bets on if you’d challenge Lawless yourself.”

He winced. He’d thought about it. He’d be dead, but he’d thought about it.

“I woulda gotten killed.” He said, shoulders hunched. Fantasize about it as much as he would, that didn’t change the truth. He’d had no idea what he was doing.

“That was the front runner in the betting pool.” She didn’t seem like she had wanted to admit that.

“Did you take that bet?”He asked and immediately regretted it.

“No!” She said. “GOD, no! Honestly, I wish ANYONE had offered to help you. I thought about it but what was I going to do? Throw my geometry book at him?”

He grinned and she seemed to relax.

“You look, uh, good.” She said. “You’ve been training a lot, I guess?”

He blinked. He looked good? Really? He kept his features friendly and somehow managed not to blush.

“Thanks. And yeah. Aside from Lonnie taking me out into the wilds after mobs I’m pretty much working on strength training and sword work everyday.” He was suddenly uncomfortably aware of how tight his shirts had become.

“Cool.” She said and brushed a strand of curls behind her ear. “I’m sorry I didn’t volunteer to help.”

That was surprising.

“No. You were right not to. I appreciate the sentiment, but things really worked out for the best.”

They both stood there, hands in their pockets for a time. Lance felt an itch between his shoulder blades. He looked back and Lonnie just sat there smirking at him. He suddenly felt like a fool and he wasn’t even sure why.

“Do you want to watch me go a round with Lonnie?” He asked. Damn the torpedoes. Full speed ahead. “You came all the way out here and I know how long a walk it is.”

Aurora looked at him, then looked behind her to see the sun continuing to sink. Lance figured that was a no as she turned back to him, but she was smiling.

“Sure. I can see what’s kept you busy this whole time, right?” She said, and Lance broke into a big, toothy grin.

“Great! Come on over and you can watch from one of the train cars. That way you won’t get hit or anything.” He turned and started walking back. He wasn’t sure if he should have done something else just then, but he figured it was fine.

As they approached, Lonnie’s grin vanished, but his eyes still twinkled. Lance realized the old man was trying to hide his amusement. The effort was appreciated. Lance vaulted himself up into a train car with one hand, the one with both sides open, and held a hand down to Aurora as she walked up.

“Did you seriously just JUMP into that thing?” She asked, open surprise on her face. He grinned back.

“I forgot to mention the gymnastic stuff we’ve been doing. I’m getting pretty good at tumbling and jumping.” He said as she took his arm and he lifted her into the car easily. He wondered at that. He didn’t think he could have done that two months ago. Not with one hand. He hopped back down and grabbed his stick and shield. Lonnie looked at him as he walked up.

“Shirt?” The old man said.

Lance knew he couldn’t hide the blush this time as he took his shirt off and threw it back onto the lip of the train car. As soon as he did it, he heard Aurora breathe in sharply. The bruises, he thought. Jesus. How bad do they look right now? How many do I have from just this week? Twenty? Twenty-five?

As Lance and Lonnie took positions, Lance found it much easier to clear his mind. Aurora gave him one specific something to NOT think about. As soon as Lonnie’s foot shifted to attack, Lance ducked and charged him with the shield. Lance hit Lonnie hard enough to knock him off balance and send his shield arm wide. Lance immediately launched into a series of quick strikes at Lonnie’s vitals. The old knight barely knocked aside the attacks with his practice sword.

That was Lonnie’s biggest pet peeve as a trainer. It didn’t matter what the pulps said, what they did in the movies, what you saw on social media, or how enchanted your blade was. You DID NOT block with the blade. Shields were made for a reason. Blocking with the blade damaged both yours and your opponent’s weapon. It was flashy. Lonnie hated flashy. Him doing so now was a measure of the sudden desperation in his defense.

Just as Lonnie was getting his balance back, Lance saw an opening. He dropped to the ground and swung his leg in a wide arc, knocking Lonnie’s feet out from under him. The former knight cried out as he hit the ground, and Lance spun in with a one handed swing that stopped inches from Lonnie’s skull. Lance let thought return and stared down at his trainer, wide eyed.

Lonnie looked just as shocked as he felt. The old man suddenly started laughing. Not a chuckle but a full on belly laugh. That’s when the clapping started and Lance looked up. Aurora was standing there where he’d left her. Her eye’s were huge and she was grinning. Lance shook his head and dropped his stick to hold a hand out to Lonnie who gladly accepted the help up.

“Kid, that was the best I’ve seen you do so far.” Lonnie said as he regained his feet. He hadn’t stopped smiling. “You finally get that clear mind thing down?”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah I did.” Lance said, still in shock.

“Fantastic. Absolutely fantastic. I’ll be able to make something outta you.” He looked hopeful.

“You have a lot riding on me, don’t you?” Lance asked him. The old man looked thoughtful.

“I guess I do. There’s not much I can do after renouncing my vows, but maybe if I can help make the next generation better it’ll ease my conscious a bit.” He slapped Lance on the shoulder. “Go help your friend down.”

Lance looked and Aurora did suddenly look very much like she wanted down. He trotted over and she sat in the train car door and waited. He tried not to think about it much as he reached up, grabbed her by the waist and set her feet on the ground. She put her hands on his shoulders to steady herself as he did, and he suddenly remembered he had not put his shirt on. As soon as she was steady, he grabbed it and did so.

“No lie,” She said, “that was pretty impressive.”

“That,” Lonnie said, “is the best your boy here has done so far.”

“Uh, thanks. Both of you.” Lance said. “Everything just kinda clicked that time.”

“Ma’am, what was your name again? Lance here is a uncultured boob and didn’t introduce us earlier.” Lonnie said, smiling. “My name’s Lonnie Mercer, by the way.”

“Aurora.” She said, giving a small wave.

“Well, Aurora, would you like to come back out sometimes and watch? You seem to be the boy’s good luck charm.”

Lance was turned away from Aurora and staring very violent threats at Lonnie about what levels of embarrassment he was willing to take from him. Teacher or not. When he looked back to Aurora, she was smiling.

“Absolutely!” She said. Lance was a bit surprised by her enthusiasm.

“Great.” Lonnie said. He dug around in his pants pocket and pulled out some keys. He tossed them at Lance and he caught them in the air and looked a question at the man.

“It’s getting late and we’re done for the day. I’m going to make some dinner. When you’re friend is ready I want you to drive her home in the van. It’s going to be too dark to walk back into town on these roads. Don’t get pulled over.” And with that, Lonnie walked to the back door of the office and went inside.

“He lets you drive?” Aurora asked, eyes wide again.

“I guess so.” Lance said.

“How long did it take you to get this good with a sword? Did it take the whole time you’ve been here? Did you have practice before?”

Lance motioned for her to follow him. There were now two chairs at the front of the office and he offered one to Aurora and she took it. He reached in the cooler next to his chair and pulled out a water. He held one out to her and she shook her head. He spoke between sips.

“Just since I got here. At first Lonnie just started showing me basics. He didn’t want me getting myself hurt. That changed though. Some hobgoblins showed up near the yard around the end of June and I got to show him I was taking this seriously.”

“Wait, you’ve actually fought monsters already?!” She squeaked. He smiled.

“Yeah.”

“Were you scared?”

“Terrified.” He said. He honestly had been. He didn’t care who knew it. “I understand what Lonnie meant about there being a respect when you have to do this with a sword. You’re right there with them. You see their eyes. You have to face what you’re doing. You SEE the light go out, Aurora.” He just stared blankly for a time.

“Do you think you’ll get used to it?” She asked quietly.

“God, I hope not.” He said. He looked at her and he saw the question on her face. “If I ever get used to this, something inside me has broken. I want to do this. I want to help people. But if I ever get used to killing anything? I need to stop right then and there.”

“The knights don’t talk about that.” She said.

“I don’t think they’re supposed to. It’s supposed to “help people sleep at night”, you know?” He’d done air quotes. “But I don’t know if that’s a good thing. Look at what that kind of thing does to veterans. I think people should know. I think maybe it would help if everyone knew the kind of things knights have to see.”

“It’s really not an adventure, is it?” She said, sounding nervous.

“Lonnie says it can be.” Lance said. “He said there’s plenty of chances to help people and Fantastics in need. There’s beauty out there that the Order gets to see and no one else ever does. Pixies, and unicorns, and phoenixes. A lot of times the good days outnumber the bad.”

“It sounds like it sets you apart.” Aurora said quietly. “Is that what you’re doing? Trying to be apart from people, Lance?”

He thought about that. He wasn’t like the other students at school. He wasn’t like the rest of his family. But that didn’t mean he resented any of them. He just wanted to see them all safe. He wanted to help. He wanted to see everything there was in the world. Not just town. He didn’t want to leave them, though. He sighed.

“No. I think it means I have to be separate on some level, but I don’t want to be. I LIKE people, Aurora. I like my folks, weird as they are. My dad gets excited over teeth! Who does that?!” he said, pleadingly. That made her laugh.

“No. I just don’t want anyone to get hurt because of people like Lawless. I want to see the magic out there. But, I don’t want to have to give up being near anyone.”

“Oh good.” Aurora said. “I-” She paused. “I know some folks at school miss you. So many folks moved after Lawless, they combined the two eleventh grade classes down to one.”

Crap, he thought.

“Thank you for coming to check on me.” He said. “Like, I really appreciate it.”

“Like I said, some folks at school miss you.”

He sat there for a time letting what she’d said sink in. He didn’t feel the need to dig into it openly. He just felt happy.

The timed light on the front porch of the building turned on. Lance realized it must be at least eight o’clock. He looked at Aurora.

“I should probably get you home before your parents have a fit or something.” He said.

“Yeah. Thank Lonnie for the ride. Do you actually know how to drive?”

Lance answered as he stretched his back. Maybe he shouldn’t have sat right down.

“Yep. That first couple of weeks here I had to drive Lonnie back from the Lunge a couple of times. He hasn’t drank nearly as much lately though.”

“Probably has something to occupy him now.” Aurora said, smiling.

The drive to Aurora’s house took a few. The van was an old 1980’s Dodge Adventure Van with a mountain silhouette wrap around the whole thing. Aurora had laughed at it, but it had so much personality that she seemed to fall in love with the thing. She asked him more questions about training. Specifically, the bruises. He colored at that.

“It was a bad day starting out.” He said. “It’s been a bad month, honestly. But better to get your knocks in training, than in the field.”

She nodded.

“Why do you think you got better?” She asked.

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. It was dark but he could see her eyes on him.

“I was finally able to focus.” He said. Terry’s troubadour, the Beasley guy, said on social media that Terry was honest to a fault. That was a noble goal. Lance thought that maybe there were limits to what constituted “honesty” though. Not everyone needed to know everything.

“Uh huh.” Aurora said. He knew she was grinning. Boy, they were both drowning in subtext tonight.

A few minutes later, he parked the van in front of her house on the outskirts of what was officially “town”. He turned and suddenly a thought struck him and he grinned.

“Should I get the door for you?” he asked, and she laughed.

“No, thank you. I think I can manage that much at least.” She turned toward him in the bucket seat. “I’m really glad you’re ok out there. Everyone was really worried you’d run away or something after what happened.”

“They were?” He asked. She didn’t say anything for a time. She swallowed.

“I. I was worried you’d run away. I, uh, I missed you.” She said. He just sat there looking at her. Really? he thought.

“Sorry.” Lance said. That wasn’t enough. “I didn’t meant to worry anyone. I thought my parents would have told everyone already. I guess they don’t really want people to know.”

“You’re not going anywhere yet? Like Terry? Running off to find adventures?” she asked.

“No. No, I’ve got years before that. If I ever get to that point. Even then, nothing says I can’t come home.” Once again, he thought back to Terry’s social media. The Errant Apprentice had some strange ideas about what a knight was meant to do.

“Good. Could you pick me up tomorrow? I’d like to watch you train again.” She said.

“I would love to.” He smiled at her.

She leaned across the console between them and kissed him on the cheek.

“Don’t let this town run you off yet.” She said before climbing out of the van, waving at him, and running up to the door.

Lance calmly drove out a little ways beyond town and parked the van. He rolled the windows up, turned on the AC and the radio, and then started whooping like a madman before laughing hysterically. After he was sure he could safely drive again, he headed back to the scrap yard and some store brand meatloaf that Lonnie made them.

Next Chapter

Previous Chapter

Sean and George

Delores was immediately put on guard by the man that burst through the door. He looked so much like Gideon that she wanted to hit him. Then she realized that he had a giant grin on his face. Gideon had never shown joy at anything. He had to maintain his stupid mystique. Terry had shouted this man’s name. Sean. THIS was Sean? Terry hung out with goths as a kid?

Of course he had. This was Terry. He accepted everyone.

Terry stood up and pointed at the man with a rigid arm, and Sean did the same back at him. It had the feeling of a ritual between friends or an inside joke. They both met half way in a hug, and Delores stood. As she did, another man walked in. This one had an amazing coif of light red hair, giant eyebrows, and even bigger green eyes. He lacked the confident stance of either Sean or Terry. This must be George.

As soon as Terry saw George, he walked over and snatched the man up in a bear hug and slung him around. The guy made some “GAK!” sounds until Terry put him down.

“It’s good to see you two!” Terry said. “I need you to meet my party.”

Sean arched an eyebrow.

“This is the first time I’ve ever heard you say party in relation to yourself.”

“Hush.” Terry said, putting a finger in Sean’s face, but smiling. Delores saw Elton had stood. Terry gestured to him. “This is Elton, my Troubadour and friend.”

“Hi.” Elton said. He was watching the two with a small smile on his face.

Terry stepped back over next to her and put an arm around her. She looked up at him and she realized he was looking at her. He only had eyes for her right now. She smiled up at him. She really had to work on saying those words back to him.

“This,” He said, never taking his eyes off of her, “is Delores. She’s my girlfriend.”

She looked at his friends and tried not to laugh. Sean’s eyes were wide. George’s mouth was hanging open.

“I’m also his partner, but lately he forgets.” She said, giving him a smile.

“Right. Sorry.” He said, scratching the back of his head with a sheepish grin on his face.

Sean seemed to recover quickly, but gave her a slightly confused look before holding his hand out.

“Sean. Really nice to meet you.” She shook his hand. George just stood there with his head tilted to one side watching her.

“George!” Sean hissed at him. “We’re doin’ the people thing!”

“Oh! Right. Sorry. George.” He walked up and held his hand out. Delores shook it. He didn’t meet her eyes. He seemed nervous and jerky. She knew people like this.

“Ok, you two,” Terry said after the introductions were done, “there’s something I need you to take a look at before dinner. Especially you, George.”

George looked up at Terry, suddenly interested.

“What is it?” he said and Terry smiled.

“You are going to love this.”

Soon they were all on the porch. Elton had followed, no doubt wanting to see the reactions. The yellow bug bulb of the porch light was on since the sun had set a while back. It gave everything a strange feeling to Delores. It somehow made the darkness that much more so. She watched Terry step off the porch, cup his hands to his mouth and yell.

“THUNDER!”

Sean leaned over to Delores.

“Did he tell you how much he loved Thundercats? Because this-” he cut off as they heard crashing sounds off to the left. There was an old chicken house there and a single headlight shone out of one of its doors. Sean looked confused. George leaned forward.

“Is that my scooter?” he asked. Once again, Terry smiled.

“Yes. Yes it is. It’s one of the reasons I’m glad you came out tonight. Besides getting to see you.”

“Who’s driving? Ernest?” George asked.

“No.” Was all Terry told him.

The scooter shot across the yard and jumped up on the far side of the porch. As soon as he hit the light, Thunder turned his headlight off and waved a handlebar in greeting. Sean and George just stared.

“Thunder,” Terry said, “This is George and Sean. Remember them?”

Thunder rang his bell once. Terry’s eyes widened. Delores had started to wonder just how intelligent the scooter was. This might prove her theory.

“That wasn’t just a random bell ring, was it?” Terry asked.

Ring-ring.

“And that meant “NO”, didn’t it?”

Ring.

Terry crossed the porch and knelt to rub Thunder’s headlight and Delores joined him. There were enough chairs on the porch that she could sit comfortable and pat his shield.

“You are the best boy, Thunder.” Terry said, pride on his face.

Ring.

Delores had to laugh at that. She wished Thunder had a tail to wag. She started brainstorming on a way to give him one.

“Is it alive?” Sean asked.

“He.” Delores said. “HE is alive.”

“George, what the hemorrhaging fuck did you do?” Sean said, turning to his friend.

George just blinked. He looked deep in thought for a time.

“Probably that spell.”

“I was going to ask if you remembered the spell. I might be able to sus out what you did and why he’s alive now.” Delores said.

He reached in his back pocket and pulled out a piece of printer paper, folded several times.

“I brought it. I keep my notes on the construction on my phone, but I made sure to print the spell out. I know you’re not supposed to cast straight from a browser?” he said. He seemed to be asking if that was right.

She walked over and took the paper from him carefully. Something in the way he acted when he was fully there reminded her of a deer. Sean seemed to hover near him protectively. Definitely nothing like Gideon.

She unfolded the paper and read. It almost made sense as a spell. Words didn’t fit correctly, though. The syntax was wrong. She started mumbling.

“Inner fire. . .” She said. “That’s not the same as the intention of the spell. That’s the elvish word for “life” basically.”

She looked at George.

“Where did you get this?” She asked.

He seemed worried suddenly and she saw Sean put a hand on his shoulder. He whispered something and he seemed to nod. Sean gave her a warning look.

“I’m not mad and I’m not blaming you for anything, George. I’m just backtracking the spell. We’re good.” She said. Terry was watching the exchange and Thunder seemed to have his headlight tilted in curiosity. Elton merely watched.

“I got it off of r/ManaTime.” George said.

Delores forcibly stopped her eyes from rolling. Reddit. Good Lord, he hadn’t just gotten it online, but from Reddit.

“Well, that explains it.” She said. “Spells can’t safely be kept online. They change. When you print them out, the print out is going to have all the errors that have crept in. AND, with it being Reddit, they may have been trolls. But I’m not sure. Spells are weird.”

“Oh.” George said. He seemed interested suddenly. “So just it being digital does that?”

“Yes.” She replied. “In this case, you were trying to get something like “better combustion” most likely and what it became was “eternal inner fire” which is a whole other meaning to the metaphysics of magic.”

She thought about that and turned to look at Thunder.

“IF, and this is a big if, I’m reading this right, you bound a passing higher spirit to the scooter. You didn’t have enough mana in you or around you to do a complete binding, but as the flux for the season came in, the binding became stronger. And permanent.”

She turned back to George and Sean, smiling.

“Honestly, this shouldn’t have worked. I know a guy in New Orleans that would absolutely shit himself if he knew you’d pulled this off!”

George’s eyes widened. It reminded Delores of Rachel, his eyes were so large. Sean’s smirk grew to a full on grin and he gave George a peck on the cheek.

“I TOLD you, you had more magic in you than normal!” Sean said, shaking George’s shoulder.

She looked at Terry, who was smiling at the two. He knew. He knew they were in a relationship the whole time and never brought it up. For a moment she thought he had just ignored the relationship these two had but that smile said otherwise. She still had how he was so accepting of people.

George walked over to Thunder cautiously. Thunder looked up at him.

“Thunder,” Terry said, “I don’t know how much you remember, but George is the guy that built you. I guess he’s your dad.”

Thunder made two tiny hops on his front tire to face George. He leaned into him and seemed for all the world like he was nuzzling. George reached out timidly and patted Thunder on the headlight. It didn’t take long for it to become full on pets.

Delores was surprised when George and Terry started talking about the inner workings and changes on the engine. She stepped back and sat down on a concrete and brick support for the porch and watched them.

“They do that.” Sean said. “George builds things all the time. Terry would help him with it. Especially when it inevitably broke.” The man had a smile on his face as he watched the two.
Delores looked at Elton, who was making notes on his phone. He didn’t looks surprised by any of this. She just shook her head. She went back to watching Terry. This was a side she’d only gotten glimpses of on the road when something broke. She’d never realized how enthusiastic he was about it.

“So,” Sean said, interrupting her thoughts, “how did you do it?”

She looked up at him. When he looked down at her, he didn’t seem to like it so he sat in a rocking chair across from her.

“How did I do what?” She asked.

“Catch Terry.” Sean said with a smirk. “Not to spread stories, but he’s had every eligible girl his age in three counties throwing their hearts at his feet for years and I don’t think he even noticed.” The smile dropped for a moment. “And a few men.”

She looked at him, eyes wide.

“You?”

“Again,” Sean said quietly, “he never noticed. I’m glad. I had a huge crush on him in school. Ever since he helped me and George with those bullies. I couldn’t work up the courage to be direct. Look at him.”

Delores nodded. She understood that. That jaw could be intimidating.

“Anyway, that crush lasted until the summer he fought the dragon in front of us. The idea of watching him do that all the time?” Sean shook his head with a sad expression. “I’m a coward, really. I wasn’t willing to do it. I wasn’t willing to sit there and watch him run off and maybe die every day.”

He turned back to Delores.

“You probably know all about that.”

She nodded.

“You’re braver than me.” He said.

“But you have George now.” Delores said, and the smile that split his face washed away any worries she might have had about Sean as a rival.

“Yeah.” He said. “I realized George had stuck with me through all of it. I figured out what I really wanted.”

He looked at George.

“When he remembers, of course. He gets distracted. It’s cute. I have to remind him.” The look on his face said there was nothing sad about the way he reminded him. Delores grinned.

“Well,” she said, “to answer your question? It wasn’t easy. It wasn’t as hard as you might think, but he was hung up on his vows. He figured out what HE wanted too.”

“Good.” Sean said. “I can’t tell you how often I felt like he was going to just stay out there alone. Thanks.”

“Have you. . .” Sean began and let the question hang.

Delores felt her face heat but gave him a devilish look.

“Yes.” Was all she said.

The surprised look on Sean’s face was very satisfying.

Just then, Ernest opened the screen door and stuck his head out.

“Aight. Dinner’s ready. Wrap up yer jawin’.”

Delores looked back at Terry.

“You hear that, hero?”

He looked up.

“Huh? Yeah! Sorry. Got distracted.” He scratched the back of his head.

With that, they all headed inside.

It was after dinner and everyone was sitting in the living room. Terry was trying very hard to not bury his face in his hands as everyone in his life sat there and told Elton stories about him, none of which were flattering. Delores sat beside him, holding his hand and grinning at him as tale after tale came out. He’d tried distracting them with a story about George or Sean, but nothing worked. Even David’s hero worship seemed to be tempered by it, so at least there was that. After some of the laughter died down, Elton spoke up.

“Ok. I have a serious question.” Terry and everyone else looked to him. “When did Terry get his dad’s sword? We haven’t covered that.”

Sean perked up. He took his arm from around George and leaned forward. George did as well, the memory of the story bringing him strangely to the present.

“Oh,” Sean began, “we were both there for that, Elton.”

“Yeah. It was the summer he killed that dragon.” George added.

Terry remembered. From the looks on their faces, so did Ernest and Dottie.

“That was the first time for a lot of things.” Terry said. “First time with the sword. First time I passed out using this thing I do. First time anyone outside the family had seen it happen.”

He looked around the room and realized something.

“Actually, this is the first time everyone I trust has ever been in a room together. And the first time we’ve been able to talk about it openly.”

Terry saw Ernest look at Dottie. She reached from her seat on the couch and put a hand on Ernest’s where he sat in his recliner.

“Terry,” Dottie said, “why don’t you tell him. You always had a wonderful way with words.”

That made him blush. Dottie always said that, but he knew he was a bumpkin. He smiled though and began the tale.

“George and Sean here were going to spend the summer with me. I think we were twelve or so?”

“Something like that.” Sean agreed.

“11.5.” George said. Terry nodded. He knew better than to doubt George on this.

“Well, they’d just gotten here and I’d already gotten grounded for jumping on the truck hood.”

“Again.” Ernest added.

“Yes.” Said Terry. “Thank you. Anyway, we got the call that there was a red dragon and I overheard Ernest and Dottie talking. It wasn’t big, but any red dragon is trouble. They were going to let this guy out in Bovina handle it. I didn’t think he was qualified.”

“I believe,” said George suddenly, “you said “That guy can’t handle a goblin with a spatula.” Before we talked you into going out there.” Delores laughed.

“Terry! That’s almost catty!” She said.

“Wait, you boys talked him into it?” Dottie asked, giving Sean and George the evil eye.

“We might have, Mrs. Dottie.” Sean said. “That was a long time ago.”

“No. We did. He was going to stay in his room and be grounded because those were the rules. Sean talked him into it.”

Sean rolled his eyes and Terry smirked. That was one thing he loved about George. He didn’t lie either. He also forgot what might or might not be appropriate.

“So any way.” Terry picked back up. “I knew we could reach the dragon before the guy in Bovina could even get his car started so we ran out to the storage trailer to find my original squire’s uniform and equipment.”

“I found the sword.” Sean said smiling. “It was one of the coolest things I’d ever seen!”

Delores nodded.

“I think it has that effect on people. There’s just something about it beyond normal enchantments.” She said.

“I kept telling Sean to put it down because it was dad’s. I just didn’t feel right having someone else use it. So I grabbed it. And it changed. It shifted to the perfect size, weight, and balance for a twelve year old.” Terry said, remembering his shock as it glowed and then shrank for him. It would continue to grow as he did.

“I remember saying you might be He-Man.” George said. He gave them a rare smile as he remembered. Terry nodded in agreement.

“How do you know what He-Man is, Terry?” Elton asked.

“That would be my fault.” Sean chimed in. “My step-dad had a bunch of old cartoons on his computer from when he was younger. Terry never seemed to like the shows we tried to get him to watch and George suggested we try old stuff.”

“Yeah.” George said. “If the main character had a sword and gave a moral at the end, Terry loved it.”

Terry knew he was turning red again. It sounded goofy when they said it. He caught Delores smiling at him and she leaned into him. He put an arm around her and it made him feel better.

“So I got suited up, put the sword in my scabbard, picked up my little shield, and we all three ran through the pastures till we found the dragon.” Terry said. “Ernest and Dottie were hunkered down on a hill watching it and waiting for the guy from Bovina. He never did show up.” He felt satisfaction at that. He’d made the right decision that day.

“That’s true.” Ernest said. “The dumb sumbitch never showed his face again. Lawless would have taken two hours or more to arrive. But it wasn’t just that Terry was grounded. I watched my brother die to a dragon. I knew Terry had to face one some time. I just didn’t want it to be that young. I was terrified he was gonna get burnt up.”

“I appreciate that now.” Terry said. “You hadn’t told me the truth of it back then so I just assumed it was punishment. Anyway, I ran out there, the thing turned, I jumped in the air yelling “I HAVE THE POWER!” with my sword held up.”

“Then lightning struck it.” George said. “Just like in the show.”

Delores looked up at him sharply.

“That’s what you did in Dans la Bouche!” she said.

“Is it?” Terry asked. His memory of that was fuzzy still. His memory of what happened with the dragon was also fuzzy.

“Terry looked like he was glowing as he came down.” Sean said. “He swung the sword and cut the dragon completely in half. Like, right down the middle.”

Elton stared.

“At twelve?!” The bard asked. Everyone nodded.

“We ran up and there was our boy, fast asleep between two halves of a dragon surrounded by burnt grass.” Dottie said. Her gaze was distant. “He barely woke up on the drive home. We bundled George and Sean into the spare bedroom while he recovered.”

“I was too scared to call the doctor. I just knew someone would call the Order and they’d take ‘em to the clerics and that’d be the last we’d see of him.” Ernest said.

“How long were you out?” Elton asked.

“I think I woke up that night thirsty. I had no idea what had happened.” Terry said.

“Ya had a smile on your face the whole time ya slept, boy. Did we ever tell ya that?” Ernest asked. Terry blinked in surprise.

“No. No you didn’t.”

Ernest looked sad as he spoke.
“Well, ya did. I remember I just stood there, lookin’ down at ya. You just smilin’ away. Ya looked like Glen. It was the same smile he had every time he helped somebody. I knew there wasn’t no stoppin’ ya after that. I’d just have to guide ya if I could. ‘Specially after ya found that sword.”

“Terry?” It was Dottie. “Did we do something wrong? Did we do something that made you leave?”

Terry stared at both of them. He realized the room had gone still. Delores squeezed his hand. He looked at her and something in her face told him to say it, whatever it was.

“No.” Terry said, still looking in her eyes. How in the heck had he survived without her? “You didn’t do anything on purpose.” He said as he looked back to Dottie.

“What do ya mean?” Ernest said. Terry swallowed. He’d never told anyone this. Not even Delores. “After I started really training and we knew what I could do, you guys warned me about the clerics. It was the only direct talk we had about it. Then, every time I was in public I saw the fear in your eyes. The both of you. I know what it is NOW, of course. But back then?”

He looked around the room. Sean and George were both still. Sean had George’s hand in a death grip and George was looking at the ground. Elton just sat. He didn’t have his phone out. He wasn’t taking notes. He just watched Terry. As a friend. He turned back to his Aunt and Uncle.

“I was a kid. I was just starting to hit puberty. Seeing that fear? I just assumed there was something wrong with me and the last thing I wanted to do was talk to you about it. Not after that cleric stuff. Not and have my fears confirmed. I thought you were scared OF me. Not FOR me.”

He wiped his eyes with a free hand and Delores squeezed the other again. Her weight against his arm was reassuring.
“By the time I realized the truth of the whole thing I was nineteen or twenty. I was set on this path I’d chosen. I didn’t think there was anything to be done. What was the point? I was here now. I was who I was.”

Dottie tried to hide her eyes so he wouldn’t see the tears. Ernest looked pole-axed. THIS was what he’d been hating about himself this entire time he realized. Even getting it out like this, the wounds wouldn’t heal. Not yet. Not for a long time.

“So this isn’t on you two. Not completely. I was a dumb kid. I assumed I was a problem to be dealt with so I just removed myself. I figured if I wasn’t there, the problem would go away. I just hate that these walls didn’t come down until the day before I left. I’ve done all three of us wrong. I’m sorry.”

No one said anything for a long time. The only real sound was Dottie’s sharp intakes of breath followed by muffled whimpers. Delores walked over and sat beside Dottie, putting an arm around her and whispering softly. Ernest looked up, his eyes moist, but he wouldn’t let himself cry again. Not with this many people around.

“From now on, we talk about this stuff, boy. I’m tired of losin’ family because we’re too damned stubborn to talk. Ok?” he said to Terry.

Terry smiled. He was reminded again of every mistake he’d made in the last fifteen years. He didn’t think a week home would fix all of this, but he thought he’d like to try.

“Well,” Terry said, “I figure a week should be a good bit of time for talking. I love you guys. I always have. I want to try and make all this up to you.”

Dottie looked up finally.

“Stop it, Terry. Stop taking this all on you. We could have said something. We could have asked. This took neglect from both sides. And we love you too. You know that, don’t you?” She asked.

“Yeah. I know you do. I don’t think I ever doubted that.”

Shortly after that, George and Sean excused themselves and promised to try and get back out before he left. George said something about catapults that got Terry excited for the visit. After that, Terry hugged his aunt and uncle and promised that he’d try and do better. Ernest told him to stop being a knight about it.

So a while later, Terry found himself helping Delores find a place for their belongings in his room. He’d dragged a chest of drawers in from the walk-through closet to help hold everything. He’d even dug out his old mirror.

“I’m sorry,” Delores was saying as she folded things, “I’m just not living out of a suitcase for a week.”

“I don’t blame you, honestly.” He said, hanging his duster in the wardrobe. He’d found a place to hang his sword on one inside wall of the wardrobe. The Mercy he left in its pocket. He didn’t care for it nearly as much. Delores stopped and looked at him.

“Do you know how proud I am of you right now?” She said.

“No. What for?”

She walked over and hugged him tightly. She spoke softly next to his ear.

“I have never seen a family be so honest and promise to work on their problems. I keep telling you, you are much better with people than you think you are.”

He just shrugged before pulling back to look at her.

“I dunno. I just try to do what’s right, D. You know me. That’s the only thing I know how to do.” He said.

She tilted her head and studied him.

“Terry, if you did leave the Order, what would you do?”

He stared blankly at her. Where was this coming from? She’d said she wouldn’t ask him to leave.

“I don’t know. I honestly hadn’t considered it an option before this week. The idea still frightens me.” He said.

“Well,” Delores said, “I’m kinda thinking on it. I don’t have anything yet, but would you listen if I had something?”

“Of course I would.” He said. “As long as it keeps me with you.”

She put her forehead against his.

“I’ve no intention of leaving you.”

They quietly finished putting away their things before bed.

Next Chapter

Previous Chapter

Learning to Live

Terry stood there on the tractor feeling absolutely amazing. Elton was right, it was just a tractor, but he wasn’t even tired afterward. He didn’t think he’d used a fraction of what he was feeling inside. He felt like he could do anything. Like he needed to do everything. He looked at his three companions across the pasture back in the farmyard.

“I’LL MEET YOU BACK AT THE HOUSE!” He yelled to them. Elton waved and they turned to leave.

Terry launched himself again. For once he reveled in the feeling as he reached the apex of his trajectory and looked at the expanse of rural Hinds County. He looked down as he passed over Elton and his family. He was laughing. He felt giddy. He landed with a loud thump about ten feet from the back porch. The back door opened and Delores was standing there staring at him. He saw Dottie peak around her and roll her eyes before going back inside.

“What did you do?” She asked quietly, a look of worry on her face.

Terry was confused but he didn’t let it shake his smile.

“I can do it now! I can do this without feeling tired!” He checked himself. “Well, AS tired. I feel great!”

Delores hopped down from the porch, walked up, and grabbed his arms.

“Good. I’m glad. I need you to bleed the mana though. Please.”

Terry was going to object but he realized she knew better than him. He did so. He felt all of Creation recede from him. He felt more alone inside himself. Everything was more dull, but he did it. At least, down to how he normally felt.

“Thank you.” She said.

“What’s wrong?” Terry asked. He was suddenly fully aware of the worry on her face.

Delores looked past him and spoke quickly.

“Mana needs to be used. It ignites a purpose in you. It gives you the need it feels to be used. It makes you giddy and susceptible to its urges. It’s why mana flux can be dangerous. It’s why bleeding is so important. It’s why we learn self control so early.”

Terry swallowed. He understood. He’d felt like he was going to burst and needed to do something with it. Delores continued.

“Terry, I’m sorry. I should have told you about this earlier today but there’s just so much that you don’t know and so much has been going on. It’s something most of us learn quickly. You’ve always used everything all at once so you haven’t felt it. It’s just another thing to be careful of.”

Terry looked over his shoulder and he saw Ernest approaching, enraged. He reached them, shoved Terry out of the way, and threw a finger up in Delores’s face.

“What’d ya do to my boy?!” He shouted. “What did ya turn him into?!”

Delores stepped back, shocked. Terry reigned in his sudden burst of anger enough to speak. He strode up to Ernest, grabbed him by the shoulders, and forced him away from Delores.

“STOP IT!” he shouted at his uncle. That brought Ernest up short. Terry never yelled at him.

“She change ya, boy!” Ernest yelled back.

“I am EXACTLY what I’ve always been! I’m the same thing we’ve all refused to talk about.” He said, moderating his tone. For some reason that made people stop and pay more attention. It worked. Ernest stepped back.

“My entire life I’ve been doing this and never knew what I was doing. Well, I’ve been killing myself bit by bit every time. Then three days ago I DID nearly die wiping out a town of monsters.” He glance back at Delores. “She’s why I’m still here to yell at you about it. She’s taught me enough control over it that I won’t gutter out like a candle every time I have to fight something that threatens the world.” Why had he said it like that?

This time Ernest looked at Delores. He suddenly looked like he had doubts about what he’d been thinking.

“There’s still things I don’t know, Ernest. Things I should have known since I was a kid but none of us wanted to face it. There was no one to teach me and we wouldn’t even talk about it.”

He held his arms out.

“Well now we have to. Because I nearly died and I felt like a cancer patient sitting in that bed being told I needed to do exercises to keep myself safe and alive.”

His arms dropped.

“Died?” Ernest said, at a near whisper.

“Yeah. The worst part is, I might have welcomed it a few days ago. It’s in me. Whatever it was that dad had? This depression? The other thing we never talked about? It’s in me too. It’s like it turns all the lights out and leaves me by myself.”
Ernest looked like he’d been struck.

“And that woman?” Terry said, pointing behind him to Delores, “She did the smartest thing anyone could do with me. Delores knows how important my vows are. She made me give her one. She made me vow to survive, Uncle Ernest! To come back, every time!”

He realized he was yelling again, and he couldn’t help it. The flood gates were open.

“So now, when that light turns off and all the other amazing reasons I have for living seem to disappear? I’ve got that vow. That one thing to keep me here in the most desperate times I can imagine. I’ll come back to her.”

Ernest looked miserable. Terry had the bit in his teeth though. He continued.

“So I’m going to ask you, Uncle Ernest, to please watch what you say to her. What you say about her. She’s why I’m still standing here. She had the courage to talk to me about all this. SHE kept me alive.”

His uncle walked up slowly with the saddest expression Terry had ever seen on his face, and he embraced Terry.”

“I’m sorry.” Ernest said against his shoulder. “Yer all I’ve got left, boy. I just wanted to protect ya. I’m sorry. We just didn’t know what else to do.”

Terry held his uncle. He knew all this. Ernest didn’t need to tell him any of it. But he knew Ernest needed to say it.

“I forgive you, but there’s nothing to really forgive. There’s no other way you could have raised me safely. I’m just learning to live, finally.” He thought about it. “I WOULD appreciate you apologizing to Delores for coming at her so hostile though.” He smiled as he said it, hoping to take the sting out of his words.

Ernest looked up and nodded at him. He let go of Terry and walked up to Delores.

“Ms. Cody, I’m terribly sorry about that.” He looked back at Terry, then turned back to face her. “I need ya to understand, he’s the only thing I have left. He’s all I have left of my brother. He’s the only son I’ll ever have. Thank ya for keepin’ him safe. I’m sorry. I shoulda asked before this.”

She hugged the old man.

“It’s ok.” She said. She smiled. “That’s what I like about you Lingals. You admit when you’re wrong.”

He nodded.

“About the only thing we do right, some days.” Ernest said.

She patted his back.

“I know it’s hard to see him change, even in good ways. Just know I’m doing this from a place of. . .” She looked at Terry and closed her eyes. She continued very quietly. “From a place of love.”

She let him go.

Ernest pulled a handkerchief out of his back pocket and blew his nose loudly before shoving it back where he’d gotten it.

“David.” He said, turning to the boy who had barely stopped looking at them both. “Go change outta yer armor. I want ya in the kitchen helpin’ Dottie. You’re spending dinner with the family.”

The boy nodded with a grin and ran off to the trailer. Terry watched.

“I’m afraid that demonstration might not have worked the way I intended.” He said. The boy was looking at him like something from a myth.

“I dunno.” Ernest said. “It mighta. He’ll see there’s no way he can do what ya do. Can’t say stories about it ain’t gonna spread worse than Elton’s flowery writin’ once the squires get here, though.”

The old man turned back to Terry and smiled.

“And you, boy, need to head in the front door. Get changed. Yer off duty as long as yer here. I want ya to rest. YOU’VE been workin’ too hard for too long. Let us take care of ya. Let us be parents.”

Terry grinned and saluted.

“Yessir.” he said. “Seriously though, Uncle Ernest, I know you and Dottie did everything you could. I just want to know it all now, ok? We’ve got a policy of no secrets in this party.”

“That’s fine.” Ernest said. “It’s past time anyway. Let’s just not fill up the first day.”

Terry nodded. He grabbed Delores by the hand and started walking around the house.

“Ok,” Delores said quietly as they walked, “That back there? That was your fight. And you handled it wonderfully, by the way. You knew exactly what you needed to say.”

Terry winced.

“I didn’t want to hurt him. He’s been through enough. I see what you mean about standing up to your folks though. That was harder than I thought.”

She squeezed his hand.

“None the less,” She said, “you got it out in the open now. It can’t go back in the box. Are you ok?”

They’d reached the porch and Terry held the door open for her. She smiled at him as she went inside and he remembered the dream he’d had early on with the Voice.

“Sort of? All this just drives home the fact that I ran away from them. I know why I did it though.”

“Do you?” She asked as she led the way to his bedroom.

“Yeah. We can talk about it later though. There’s been enough of that for now.”

When they entered the room, Terry walked to the wardrobe and opened the door. He blinked. He’d used the room so little as a child he’d never realized there were pegs and hooks for his armor plates in the back. He’d just meant to chuck the armor in the bottom. He looked at Delores as she looked in over his shoulder. A smile on her face.

“You didn’t even know that was there, did you?”

“No.” He said, trying not to sound miserable about it.

“Well, that’s ok. It just means I don’t have to take up floor space.” She grinned wickedly. “Now, let’s get all of that off of you.”

Elton watched Terry and Delores go and realized he had just been left alone with Ernest. He didn’t think the old man actually liked him despite his praise on first arriving. The man was hard to read though. Elton let the awkwardness come though. Better that than Business Elton taking over. Ernest looked at him.

“Want a beer?” the man asked him. Elton smiled politely.

“Love one. Thank you.”

The old man nodded and, instead of going inside, walked up to a 1950’s fridge on the back porch. The kind with the latching handle. He opened it and the thing was still working. He pulled two long necks out and handed one to Elton.

“I’m impressed. How do you keep that thing running? It’s got to be seventy years old by now.” Elton said, as he sat on the concrete steps. Ernest sat next to him. He pulled out a bottle opener and opened both the bottles.

“Terry, actually.”

Elton blinked in surprise.

“Seriously?”

“Yep.” The old man said with a sly grin. “He don’t look like it, but he’s good with machines. Him and George tinkered around a lot. He’s not as good as George, mind. He couldn’t build ya a lawn mower or nothin’, but he can fix damned near anything he can get his hands on. George would build ‘em. Terry would fix ‘em.”

Elton thought about that.

“You know, when Thunder broke down two months ago and Terry worked on him, I assumed it was something minor.” Elton looked up and could just make out Thunder doing donuts in the pasture chasing something.

“Mighta been.” Ernest said. “Might notta. If anything goes south with this knight thing he’s got somethin’ he could fall back on. Always wished he’d focused on that when he was a kid.”

Elton took a swing from his beer.

“That couldn’t have been easy after everything Terry’s told me. Watching him run off like that?”

Ernest took a long drink.

“It wasn’t. Only so many times ya can watch someone ya love run out into danger like that. But, and this is a big but,” Elton snorted at the unintended childish joke. Ernest did as well. “If I had put my foot down and kept him from doin’ this? Well, Dottie was right. As usual. I woulda lost him fer sure. He woulda resented me and run off and done it anyway. At least this way I could keep an eye on him.”

“How’d you figure out he was different?” Elton asked. Maybe he was pushing, but the old man seemed agreeable to talking. Ernest gave him a crooked smile.

“He was so excited at something for his birthday, when I came rollin’ up in the truck he jumped offa the porch and landed on the hood. Smashed the whole front end into the ground.”

Elton stared at him.

“That was the old truck. Had to buy the Ford after that.” Ernest added.

“So that tractor. . .” Elton began to ask.

“Yep. That was about par the course. Bit stronger than I was used to, but still Terry. Used to call him Jack Rabbit when he was little.”

Elton sat there for a moment soaking up all the info. He decided to share a bit.

“You’re boy saved my life, Ernest.”

“He does that.” The old man said.

“Yeah. He does. I was stuck with a knight named Lawless. He-”

“ROBERT Lawless?!” The man said suddenly.

Elton turned and looked at him, shock plain on his face.

“Yes. You know him?”

Ernest’s face soured.

“I do. One of Glen’s old buddies before he met Marie. He’s from near Pickens. Glen was the Knight Protector of a chunk of the state. When he died and I couldn’t cut it, I got Lawless to take over. I shoulda tracked him down and kicked his ass after all I’ve heard outta the man. He probably woulda killed me if I’d even showed up. I’m sorry you had to meet him.”

Elton swallowed. These knights were a small community in Mississippi. He knew Lawless had a problem with Lingals. He didn’t know Ernest was the reason the man had risen to power.

“Well,” Elton said, “you’ll be happy to hear Terry completely broke the man and no one has seen him for months.”

Ernest’s smile had nothing malicious in it. Just pride.

“Well, that is one thing his daddy never could bring himself to do.” He looked at Elton. “Look. I know who ya are Elton. I know about what yer daddy did. I’m not one of those “Sins of the Father” types. From everything I’ve seen and heard about ya, yer a good man. Ya help people. Ya help Terry. That’s good enough fer me. If I say yer doin’ good out there, I mean it.”

Elton sat there for a minute, looking at Ernest.

“Does your whole family do this?” he finally asked.

“Do what?” Ernest said.

“Show a bizarre amount of understanding for being from the sticks?”

Ernest laughed.

“Be glad ya didn’t know me thirty years ago, boy. Or Dottie for that matter.”

“Yeah?”

“Glen was the sensible one and he ran around killin’ shit with a sword.”

This time the both of them laughed.

It was a few hours later and Terry was getting dressed after a quick shower. The entire process of getting his armor off had become a “thing” and they’d both needed to clean up. Terry loved Delores, but he was wondering what had her so. . .enthusiastic. She had showered before him and bundled him off with a small stack of clothing she’d chosen for him. Black slacks and a black dress shirt. He thought it made him look like a European mercenary. She said he was going to look handsome. She had won.

As he stood there brushing his hair, it suddenly hit him. Why she was acting like this. He’d been saying it to Ernest earlier. He’d almost died. They had finally gotten together and the first thing he did was get kidnapped, nearly die, and spend two days unconscious. And then they’d yelled at each other. Put yourself in her shoes, Terry, he thought. What would you do? How would you react to her nearly dying? He’d be glued to her. He’d want to spend every minute with her. Not that he didn’t already want that, but. . .

He finished grooming and looked at himself in the mirror. It wasn’t a bad look. He hadn’t remembered having this outfit since he’d been in his armor so much. He smiled. Maybe he’d do that pose thing with the nail polish again and see what she did now that the restraints were off. He laughed.

He walked up to his door and tried the old iron door knob. It was locked. He knocked.

“D? You ok in there?” He called. He heard her shuffle up to the door.

“Yeah. I, uh, I’m getting dressed. It’s a surprise. Give me a minute.”

Terry should have realized she’d had an idea when she’d picked him out clothes. He smiled. She’d probably be dressed like a secret agent to match him. Maybe she’d have a beret, though he honestly couldn’t imagine her wearing a hat. Maybe a hood. Finally, he heard the ancient door latch release. He still waited.

“You can come in now.” She said. He opened the door and walked in, closing it behind him.

Delores wore a dress. It was a lovely, loose, green affair with vines printed on it. It came down just past her knees and reminded him of something from the 60’s. Over it she wore a matte leather vest that hung below her waist that had been dyed “mage purple”. She wore tights underneath and sandals. She’d somehow found time to do her eye make-up. He just stared at her.

“Well?” She asked, giving the dress a little twirl.

“How are you more beautiful every time I see you?” was all he could think to say at first. “You look gorgeous.”

She walked up and hugged him.

“Thank you.” She said.

He felt special right then, getting to see her like this. He knew how she felt about this kind of thing. When she stepped back, he held an arm out to her.

“Delores, would you accompany me to the living room?”

She rolled her eyes, but laughed.

“You take me to the best places.”

When they left the room, Terry stopped at the door to the dinning room.

“Hang on. Let me just check that Aunt Dottie is ok. Make sure she doesn’t need anything.”

Delores nodded.

He stuck his head in the dining room door so he could yell into the kitchen.

“Aunt Dottie? Do you need any help?”

The woman came to the kitchen door and opened her mouth to say something, but she stopped. She took in their clothes and put her hands over her mouth.

“Shoo!” She said, motioning them out. “SHOO! You are not cooking or cleaning in those outfits. Go sit down. Let me and David worry about the meal.”

With that they walked into the living room.

The living room had always struck Terry as a sad place. A distant memory of happier times. It had two couches and multiple chairs. It was set up for gatherings. It was a hold over from when the family was bigger. When there WAS a family. When there were still Lingals. Now, tonight at least, there would be people here again. Family. Friends. He wouldn’t hide from it this time. He wanted this.

He shook himself and escorted Delores to the couch by the front windows and let her take a seat. He sat next to her. She tucked her feet under her, and leaned against him, looking at him and smiling. He realized he was still thinking of how affectionate she’d been the past day. He blushed.

“You’re just doing things to make me blush because you’re around my family, aren’t you?” he said quietly. She kissed him on the cheek and that just made him turn more red. He found it ridiculous that he should still turn red over something so simple, but she laughed.

“I’m doing it because you’re so cute when you blush. If you stopped blushing, I might stop doing it.”

He arched an eyebrow.

“Don’t you dare stop blushing.” She said threateningly, and this time Terry laughed.

“You know you didn’t have to dress up for my family. They already like you. I can tell. And yes, that includes Ernest.” He said.

“I didn’t dress up for them.” She said softly. “I dressed up for you.” She punctuated it with a very slow kiss that left him breathless. He sighed.

“I’m sure you’re going to get tired of hearing this eventually, but I love you.”

She shook her head.

“You don’t have a clue how this works, do you?”

He smiled.

“Never have.”

Elton came in from the hallway just then and they both looked up.

“Man. Your uncle’s awesome, Terry.”

“Been hanging out with Ernest?” Delores asked.

“Yeah. He’s been sharing beer, and telling me about the family, and-”

He noticed what they were wearing.

“You two look great. Should I change?”

Terry studied his bard. He’d didn’t seem drunk, which was good. New Orleans was still on his mind.

“No, no. This was just a me and Terry thing.” Delores said to Elton.

He nodded and walked over to the couch on the opposite wall and just looked at them smiling.

“You ok?” Terry asked.

“I. . .I’m just happy to see you two happy. You’re my best friends. The most painful part of the last few months has been watching you two fall for each other and pretend it wasn’t happening.” He smiled sadly. “I don’t get to see enough happy endings in my life.”

Terry looked at Delores.

“I certainly hope this isn’t an ending. There’s a lot more people that need us.” Terry said. “There’s more I want to do.”

That made him think. What was the plan now? They’d all have to discuss that at some point.

Suddenly, the front door opened violently and a tall young man with long brown hair and round rimmed glasses dressed all in black stood just inside the door.

“WHERE IS THAT BIG, DUMB SON OF A BITCH?!” He said in a deep voice.

“SEAN!” Terry shouted, and Delores moved to let him stand.

Next Chapter

Previous Chapter

Hero Worship

Delores felt nervous as she entered the kitchen. Like the rest of the house, the kitchen looked like it had been built by the people that lived in it. Cozy and a bit archaic. Dottie was already prepping something and she turned at the sound of Delores’s feet on the vinyl.

“Just you, hun?” Dottie asked.

“Uh, yes ma’am. Elton does our cooking usually and decided to bail. I can’t blame him for that.” She tried smiling.

Dottie grabbed a small knife and had a boiler in her other hand.

“Do you know how to cut potatoes?” She asked Delores.

“Sure.” She said. “Well, I mean, I know the idea. You peel them then make them smaller. It’s not hard.”

“Perfect! I’m making homemade french fries. If you can cut the potatoes it would be a big help.”

She set the boiler and knife down and Delores saw it was full of potatoes. Dottie brought her another boiler for the pealed spuds. Delores picked up the knife and set to work. She wanted to get to know this woman, but she had no idea how to start the conversation. Dottie solved that problem as she returned to her work.

“I’m glad you were the one to come with me, Delores. Elton seems nice enough, but he’s not the one I really wanted to talk to.” Delores tried not to get more anxious at that.

“Well, I don’t really cook, but I wanted to get to know you. Terry has a lot of fond memories of you two. You in particular.”

Dottie smiled.

“I’m glad to hear that. Growing up, it was hard to tell how he felt about us. But I know all about my boy. Tell me about yourself.”

“Not much to tell, really. Just a girl from the coast.” Delores knew how lame that sounded as soon as she said it. She knew her entire aesthetic was weird as hell out here. She was concerned with how Dottie was going to take most of her past.

The older woman turned from the counter and walked over to the center table where Delores sat. She put her hands on the table and leaned forward.

“Delores, I know you’re nervous. That’s fine. I know we must seem like backwards yokels but I promise that there’s very little you can say that’s going to offend me.” Dottie said with a smile.

“You sure about that, Mrs. Lingal?” Delores asked.

“Call me Dottie. Mrs. Dottie if it makes you more comfortable.” She said before pulling up a chair across from Delores and sitting. “When I was younger, I was at a bar out on highway 80 five out of seven nights a week. I wasn’t there for boys. Not the way most girls were. I was a brawler.”

Delores knew her eyes had gone wide and Dottie laughed at her expression.

“Didn’t Terry tell you I taught him to fight?” She rolled her sleeve back and flexed her bicep. Delores ogled. The woman was built like a horse! She quickly went back to cutting her potatoes.

“He’d mentioned it but I assumed. . .well, forget what I thought. Wow.” She said. Dottie leaned back in her chair with a fond smile on her face.

“I would go out looking for fights. I was an unruly drunk. Haven’t had anything in probably 30 years now.”

“Congratulations.” Delores said. It sounded impressive. And difficult.

“Thank ya, dear.” Dottie said. “I had a partner in crime back then. The bartender at the place. Ironically, her name was Marie Boozer of all things.”

Delores stopped cutting and looked up.

“Nooooo. Seriously? THAT Marie?” Delores knew exactly which Marie she meant. Dottie had a knowing smile.

“She was a wizard with alcohol, if you catch my meaning.”

Delores just nodded. Dottie continued.

“I still have no idea how the woman kept her job, as many fights as she got me into. And out of. Come to think of it, I don’t know how I didn’t get banned from the place.”

“I don’t mean to interrupt,” Delores interrupted, “but Marie must have been extremely strong. WITH DRINKS.” God, all the tip-toeing. “Why the hell was she tending a dive bar?” She realized she’d swore in front of Terry’s aunt but Dottie just kept grinning.

“Because she didn’t care. She used her skills when she needed to. Or wanted to. It didn’t really matter to her though. That wasn’t all she was. She worked at a dive bar because she enjoyed it. She met people. She met me. We met some Lingal boys. It made her happy.”

Dottie thought for a moment.

“Hell, we shared a jail cell more than once. She even enjoyed that. She just loved living.”

Delores smirked at that.

“Anyway. Delores, I’m telling you this so you’ll understand that, unless you sacrificed kids to some dark god, there’s nothing you can say to shock me.”

Delores nodded. Ok, she thought, I legitimately like this woman.
“Let’s start with an easier question.” Dottie said as she stood and returned to her cooking. Delores started back on her peeling. “What got you into magic?”

Delores thought about that for a moment before answering. She hadn’t considered that question in quite some time.

“Well, I got talked into it fully by a boy. What got me interested?” She gestured broadly, trying to take in the whole world. “Everything! There are dragons out there! And fairies! And my folks just went along trying to pretend none of it was there. I remember seeing a flight of green dragons going by when I was little and my dad told me I hadn’t seen it.” She grew angry. “Ducks. He said I’d seen ducks!”

‘Well that’s stupid.” Dottie said over her shoulder.

“I know! So one day I realized I felt. . .connected. I don’t know how else to explain the feeling. The first time you know you’ve drawn in mana it’s like you’ve expanded just enough that you can’t fit back into your own brain any more. Even with as little capacity as I had back then, it was like the world changed. Or I did. I could see more.”

Dottie nodded. She’d heard this, Delores realized.

“So that, combined with my dad’s weird gaslighting, got me to start looking into magic. I met some girls in a, well, they called it a coven, but it was more of a cell. None of us knew any better. We started going out into the graveyard across from my house and we’d do “witchy” things.”

She smiled at the memory. It had been like slumber party games, but with results.

“We all collectively had enough ability between us to light a candle and scare ourselves at midnight by a gravestone. For a long time that was enough. But I needed more. I got ideals.”

“Oooow.” Dottie said. “Those are dangerous. I’ve seen them.”

“I bet you have.” Delores said knowingly. “So I met this boy one night. Goth kid. He picked me out of the crowd and asked me if I wanted to learn real magic.”

“And you did.” Dottie said.

“And I did.” Delores agreed. “Anyway, after he moved on from me I started independent study. I started learning counter spells in an attempt to fix. . .” Delores trailed off. She’d forgotten why she’d dove into the subject so hard. She wanted to fix the biggest mistake she’d made. There was no fixing it though, she’d discovered. She’d already specialized, but not in anything the Circle considered reputable. And it would be considered a terrible reason to do so.

Dottie looked over her shoulder at Delores when she’d paused.

“There is nothing about you that needs fixing, dear. Let no one tell you different.”

Delores just stared at the woman’s back for a long moment. How many times had she wished her mom had said something even close to that? She swallowed.

“Anyway, I ended up being what they call a “counter-spell kid”. Counter-spells are some of the easiest since they use little mana and are all about redirecting intent. It seems more impressive than it is.”

“Well,” Dottie said, “from my point of view it IS impressive. Having been hit with some things by Marie, I can tell you I would have LOVED to be able to do something about it.”

Delores smiled. This whole conversation could have been awkward and painful. This woman had completely disarmed her and drawn her out.

“So how did your family take all this?”

Delores became very quiet. She hadn’t had time to process the previous day with her and Terry’s fight and the drive up here.

“That’s over now.” Was all she could really get out. Dottie turned around and watched her.

“Hun, I don’t know what happened to you with your family. I care, but I don’t care if you understand me. I welcomed you to this family earlier. I mean it doubly now.”

She walked around the table and knelt by Delores, who looked at her as if she were a unicorn.

“I’m a good judge of character. Even if you hadn’t driven up on that scooter with my boy and just showed up looking for help or a place to stay, you’d be welcome here.”

Delores bit the inside of her lip because she’d be damned if she cried again. She’d been doing so entirely too much the last week.

“Thank you, Mrs. Dottie.” She finally said. “I appreciate that.”

Dottie stood back up and patted Delores’s shoulder before walking back over to the counter.

“Thank you for the help, dear. And the company. You don’t have to stay if you’d rather run off with the boys.” She said. She seems so happy right now, Delores thought. Delores never got to be around people’s parental figures when they were happy.

“No ma’am, I think I’ll stick around here with you if that’s all right. I’ve seen enough of Terry swinging his sword the last few months.”

“I just bet you have.” Dottie said without turning around, but her implications were clear. Delores’s eyes went wide.

“MRS. DOTTIE!”

The older woman cackled.

Elton was starting to worry about Terry as they rounded the house. He was losing his innocence rapidly, along with any respect for the Order he’d sworn himself to. He hoped this didn’t lead to him changing as a person. Terry had wanted to help people above all else when they’d met. He hoped that would remain when whatever transformation he was going through was over.
As they reached the back of the house, Terry stopped, bringing them all up short. There were half a dozen trailers in the pasture beyond the house that they couldn’t see from the road due to trees. Elton could only assume this was a new development.

“The heck?” The Errant asked his uncle.

“Well,” Ernest began, “remember when ya left I said I had my choice of kids wantin’ to train with me?”

“Yeah.” Terry said. From the look on his face, Elton could tell Terry had just done the math.

“Well I figured, why choose?” The old man said with a grin.

“Good Lord, Uncle Ernest. It’s going to look like you’re building an army out here.” Terry said, a smile spreading on his face.

“Well, I also figured if I could get more kids thinkin’ like you, then maybe the world would be better off.”

Elton was surprised. Terry had said a lot about his uncle, but idealism hadn’t been one of the traits mentioned. He saw Terry put an arm around his uncle and squeeze.

“I certainly hope it works out for you, Mr. Lingal.” Elton said.

“Ernest.” The old man said back. “Too many Lingals runnin’ around the farm right now to start with mister.”

Elton just nodded. He finally noticed a lone figure with a sword, moving from stance to stance beyond one trailer that was older than the others. Every now and again the figure would try some silly leap or pose. He was young. Probably fifteen. He had sandy brown hair and was wearing a squire’s blue and yellow tabard over standard plate. Terry had noticed as well and he was frowning.

“Your cousin, I take it?” Elton asked.

Terry sighed.

“Yeah. Uncle Ernest, does he do that silly stuff every time?”

“Any time I’m not watchin’.” Ernest replied. “ He’s tryin’ to do that isolation thing ya did, too and I don’t think he’s built for it.”

“I wasn’t built for it.” Terry said with sadness in his voice.

“Think ya can talk some sense into him?”

Elton watched Terry smirk.

“I’ll do you one better. I’ll help you train him while I’m here. Maybe that’ll get his feet back on the ground.”

They started their approach again and after a moment, the young man noticed them and stopped dead, staring at Terry.

“Hi, David!” Terry said as they reached him.

“Uh, hi!” The young man said. He couldn’t stop staring. Elton had seen this with celebrities before. He knew he was trying to make Terry more popular but the fact that his work was doing this filled him with a dual sense of wonder and dread. This was Terry’s family after all.

“Uncle Ernest says you’re working too hard.” Terry said with a smile.

The squire seemed to finally shake himself and remember Terry was, in fact, a human.

“Oh. Yeah. He says that. I just want to get as good as I can as fast as I can.”

Terry walked around him like he was inspecting the boy. Elton thought this was for show. He wasn’t sure though. Maybe there was something he was looking for. David looked nervous suddenly. He stood at a sloppy attention. As Terry came around to face him again, he had his hands clasped behind his back and a serious expression on his face. What was he trying here?

“David, you have all the makings of a fine knight one day.” The boy’s face split in a smile. “But you’re going to end up getting yourself killed if you’re not careful.”

Elton kept his face in check at that. Terry was the last person to go telling someone to be careful.

“What?” David said, his expression becoming worried.

“Look,” Terry said, relaxing, “I started when I was half your age. TOO young. I had nearly ten years on you for training. On top of that, I should have been spending time with people.”

“But, look at all the things you’ve done! Look at what you can do! It must have been worth it, right?” David asked.

“I’m back here right now because I don’t know that it was.” Terry said with feeling. “But I AM here now, and I’ve offered to help teach you a few things while I’m here, if you’d like.”

David’s eyes went wide.

“That would be AWESOME! Maybe I can show off for the other squires when-”

“NO.” Terry said, stopping David. “This isn’t for glory or bragging rights. I don’t care what the pulps or blogs say. Why did you want to come out here, anyway?”

David looked sheepish.

“Well, I’d been reading the pulps.”

“That’s fine,” Terry said, “because that’s usually what gets you started.” David smiled.

“But then I started hearing about you out here in Raymond. Everyone had nothing but good things to say about you and. . .” David paused. He looked stricken. “And I just wanted to feel better about myself.”

Elton watched Terry. His expression changed. He’d gone from being ready to give a lecture to sympathy just like that.

“David,” Terry began, “There’s nothing wrong with that. Being a knight? A real knight? That involves helping people. I realized half of what I do is just humanitarian work with peaceful Fantastics. It shows you the value of a life. It can help show you your own value.”

David looked doubtful.

“I’ve got those thoughts too, David.” Terry said. “Runs in my family. As much as being in the Order has helped me, having friends has helped just as much. Don’t close yourself off to that. Ok?”

David looked abashed.

“I’ll try.” He said.

“That’s all I ask. Now. I saw you jumping around a minute ago. You get that from me?” Terry asked.

“Yeah.” David said like he’d been caught smoking.

Terry let out a deep sigh and turned to look at Elton.

“Dude, you did it. Don’t look at me. I’m just recording it.” He said to Terry. Terry sighed again.

“Yeah,” the Errant said to David, “I guess that was kinda my fault. David, I’m not a normal Errant. I’m. . .unique.”

“I’ll say!” David said excitedly. Terry frowned.

“I’m about to tell you something. It’s been a secret for a long, long time. I’m going to trust you not to tell anyone else outside of the people on this farm, ok? Can you keep a secret?”

“Sure.” The boy said.

“Good. I’m a wizard. I ignored it for years, but the things I do are because of that. It comes to me when I need it mostly. It’s not something you can emulate.”

Elton thought the squire’s eyes were just going to fall out of the sockets.

“I thought,” David said, “that you had to be a cleric if you could use magic and wanted to be a knight.”

“Normally, yeah.” Ernest answered. “Clerics are mind controlled slaves. They take a chunk of yer soul out and ya stop bein’ you. That’s why we never told anyone what Terry was.”

Ernest looked at Terry.

“And he USED to be careful about it.”

Elton snorted. Terry looked at his uncle, a very serious look on his face.

“I’d like to talk to you about that later.” He turned back to David. “I’m going to do something. I think seeing it for yourself might help to temper your expectations on what you can expect to accomplish. Is that ok?”

“Sure!” David said. He looked excited. Elton was sort of excited. Terry didn’t show off. Ever. He wondered what Terry was about to do.

The Errant looked around trying to find something and when he did he turned back to his uncle.

“Uncle Ernest, did you ever give up on repairing that big tractor out there?”

Elton looked and in the pasture was a broken down industrial tractor. It had an enclosed driver’s seat and everything. Ernest sighed.

“Yeah. Never could get it runnin’ and it’s rusted worse since the weather changed. Since I’m makin’ the switch to full time trainer I don’t guess I’ll need it. Couple a people said they’d take it off for scrap if it weren’t so big.”

Terry grinned.

“I think I might be able to help with that.”

Elton whipped his phone out and started recording. Terry pulled his sword out and David’s eyes lit up. They especially seemed to glow once the blade began to shine. Terry took something resembling a runners stance and held the sword out behind him. They all backed up.

“David,” he said from his crouch, “I want you to watch this carefully because I’m not prone to demonstrations.” The boy nodded.

Terry leaped. Elton had never seen him jump so high. Ernest fell down onto his butt as he scrambled backward from where Terry had launched himself, and Elton worried David’s face was going to get stuck in that shocked expression.

At the height of his jump, Terry did a giant over head slash. Elton cried out wordlessly. A wave of burning white energy came from the blade in an arc and cut the tractor messily in half, front separated from back. Terry then landed with one foot on each half and they flattened to half their height.

Elton stared. Terry had turned around and was waving like a nut. Ernest walked up next to Elton having regained his feet.

“I never. . .” Ernest swallowed. “I assumed Delores had been helpin’ him in them videos of yers.”

“Nope.” Elton said. “I never even considered it. It’s been him all along.”

David was staring. He looked like he suddenly realized he needed to temper his expectations on a lot of things.

Elton yelled out to Terry.

“DON’T ACT LIKE I SHOULD BE IMPRESSED WITH THAT! IT WAS JUST A TRACTOR!”

Terry cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted across the pasture.

“I’VE NEVER DONE THIS ON PURPOSE! NOT AND KNOWN WHAT I WAS DOING! AND I DON’T EVEN FEEL TIRED!”

“Good lord.” Ernest said. “That mage has turned him into a damned mythical hero.” He didn’t sound happy about it at all.

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