* Stories of the Day *
by Merle Zimmermann
March 25th, 2004
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Please email any comments you might have to (my first name) @ wam.umd.edu, but if it’s after 2009 you may have to hunt for me on your own! I'll try not to be too hard to find, though.
Of course, permission to distribute and post this story on sites/newsgroups/mailinglists/books/etc. you have access to is granted so long as it is not altered in a serious way (checking spelling or converting the file formats and fonts is perfectly fine). If you do have to alter it, please keep a copy of the original with the changed copy if you can't get in contact with me first. Thanks!
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I don’t know why, but always, just before I fall asleep, it’s as if the horizon, which spreads out in a great 4mi circle around all of us, slowly shrinks to the point where I can see the stories of all those who live at it’s edge. Like yesterday, for example. I was lying in bed, listening to remixes of Sonic CD’s title track, Megaman 3’s intro, and Dragon Warrior 3 themes with my eyes closed and suddenly, the horizon washed over me and I saw a knight, sacrificing his life to save the ones he loved, an apartment complex, where two childhood friends were reunited, and an orbital space platform, where a dying astronaut was forced to make a terrible decision. And I sighed, knowing that all of these tales would be for naught, as I wouldn’t be able to remember them when I waked. But I guess last night was different, because when I woke up, the stories were still there, bleached and faded by the morning sun, but legible. Here I give to you, the three tales of Wednesday, March 24th, 2004 (next to midnight).

The Tale of The Knight’s Errand - (Remembered to DW3 music - Revised Edition (Bridget helped me with some of the spelling and grammar over ice cream later in the day))

The Knight stood, gasping for breath, at the peak of a hill. Before him lay a great valley filled with the soldiers of the evil wizard Gloomdrake, beasts twisted in form and terrible to behold. He sighed and clutched his sword closer to himself. If Gloomdrake would have only left his kingdom in peace, none of this death and mayhem would have been necessary.

As he stood, beholding the enemy, they also looked up and examined him. “Gragoralrick.. gragoluul....” whispered one private to another. “What shall we do? He has fought so many and yet is only one...” The other whispered back, trying to look like he was still standing in formation, “I don’t know, but The Commander, she is smart, she will think of something.” Circles of whispering spread like ripples in a pool full of ice as the lone knight was sillouhetted against the sunset sky.

The tent of The Commander rustles softly in the faint wind. She lifted a goblet of water and stared into the murky depths. A commander’s responsibility is for her units, and her loyalty likes with her King. She sighed and took a sip of the water, then set the glass down with a clink on one of the mats in her tent. The only thing I can do for them... I know that the knight, he has learned our ways of magic... she shook her head. If one can not defeat him, none shall. I know I am the strongest, so .. what am I waiting for? He won’t leave on his own... She finally made her decision and, lifting her sabre in a clawed talon, turned and, taking a deep breath, she stood up straight and saluted her reflection within a jeweled frame. For honor..!

She stepped out of the tent into the light of the setting sun. The knight, upon a great hill to the west, cast a shadow that she followed with her eyes over the rank and file, all the way to a pebble at her feet. The whispers of her subordinates grew into a tide that washed away all doubt. She reached down to pick up the pebble and found, to her surprise, that it was not a stone, but a seed, an acorn lost ages ago by one of the trees that used to line the valley before her King ordered it to be cleared. She wiped away a tear and raised her hand in a salute. The entire army cheered in confidence and triumph, and the sun set behind the mountains in the west.

The knight watched as the army beneath him raised their voices in a vile cacophony of hissing and growling. Suddenly, it grew dark all around him as the sun, tired and exhausted from a long day, finally fell over the edge of the world, leaving its sole beacon of light the moon, who looked down over the field with mild disinterest, having seen this sort of thing many times before. The knight closed his eyes and whispered the words to himself .. "May the confidence and surety of my heart turn into a light that will illuminate the world with its piercing brilliance." ... He heard the hisses and growls turn into yelps of surprise, and opened his eyes to see thousands of red and blue and yellow eyes hanging in the darkness like holiday baubles celebrating the new year.

The Commander stared with slight disbelief at the angelic halo of light which scatters its brilliance around the knight’s forlorn figure. She glanced over her ranks, and was pleasantly surprised to see that her army had taken the surprise better than she expected, only about five from fifty were staring slackjawed at the vision on the hill, while the rest were clutching their weapons close and looking to her for direction. She gestured to her army to stay its course, and the forty five breathed a collective sigh of relief. “Our Commander, will once again fight on her own against the enemy!” the privates whispered to each other in adolation. “We must cheer for her!” someone suggested. A ragged series of cries rose into the night, and quickly grew into a strong show of support for The Commander. She smiled broadly at her ranks, and gestured for her flagbearers to accompany her. They rushed up to her side as she walked through the ranks towards the knight, who stood tensed on the westward knoll.

The Knight frowned, and lifted his sword, preparing himself to charge into the enemy force. But as he gazed over the scattered ranks, he saw a group of seven of the soldiers approaching him, five carrying pennants, one bearing a large box or crate of some sort, and one who, although not standing any larger than the rest, appeared to be much more confident in its bearing, walking with a purpose directly towards him.
The pennant-bearers spread to the side as they approached, and the one bearning the box walked in front of the leader, and came almost within ten meters of him, then stopped nervously. The confident one lifted a clawed hand and set it on the shoulder of its subordinate, who slowly approached and set the box in front of the Knight. As it entered the circle of light, the Knight looked down upon a weird half-monster creature with the face and ears of a leonid monstrosity. It opened the box and removed a tablet of wax and two sharpened pieces of bone and carefully closed the box, setting the tablet on top and one stylus on each side.

The Commander stepped up to the box and knelt on her side, picking up a stylus. She looked up at the knight, who projected an air of bemused confusion through his suit of armor. She looked closer at the suit, and saw that although it bore many dents and scrapes from the many battles the knight had fought, it was of an ancient cut and was inscribed with marks that bore the names of the seventeen who dared to stand alone against the will of the mad god Movaras, who attempted to crush the world in his hand a thousand centuries ago. She nodded at the Knight respectfully, and gestured for him to pick up the stylus from the table. The Knight seemed to think for a while, then sat down on his side of the box. But instead of picking up the stylus, he reached up to the edge of his helmet and removed one of the visor’s locking pins instead. Then he traced out a ‘?’ on his side of the tablet and seemed to settle back to wait.

The Knight’s journey was long. He hadn’t slept for days, since he landed on the isle of Gloomdrake, and he hadn’t gotten to speak with anyone for months. Things had been good for a while, after he rescued King Tiraton’s daughter from one of Gloomdrakes’ lieutenants, but he knew that the peace was not to last unless he took the war to the foot of the evil wizard’s lair. But he hadn’t known how much it would cost him; during his journeys, he had discovered the potential of the magic that the enemy used, and attempted to turn it back against them. The magic was a forbidden art, however, and somehow the King had found out, and the Knight was quickly banished. He still knew what he had to do, though.

He watched the enemy commander write on its side of the board with its bone stylus while he tried to project an air of disinterest, although his main mood was curiousity. From what he could see of the writing, it was of the same nature as some of the scripts which he had seen while delving through the underground mazes that the legendary hero Karakas had left to guide the warrior who he knew would come after he was gone. The Knight paused, and whispered more to himself than to anyone else "From the intellect which I cutivated within my mind spring a bud of understanding and insight, a bud which will blossom into the understanding of this lost and ancient speech."

The Commander slowly and laboriously wrote on the board, trying to make the characters as clear as possible.

WHAT BRINGS THEE HERE, KNIGHT BEARING THE CREST OF ANTIQUITY?

She turned the tablet around so that the Knight could read it more easily. The Knight looked, then rubbed out the writing with his gauntleted hand.

I seek audience with thy master, warrior. He hast wronged my people, and I made a vow to protect them at all costs.

I KNOW OF YOUR SUFFERING, KNIGHT. BUT I MAY NOT LET YOU PASS HERE IF YOU INTEND TO HARM MY KING.

That I know. And I intend to fight my way past your army, so that I can end this all, tonight.

BUT IF YOUR INTENTIONS WERE STRONG, WHY WOULD YOU STOP AND ACCEPT A PARLEY?

The Knight sighed, and wrote:

It has been too long since I have had a chance to talk to anyone. Even if I will not survive this night, at least I have a last chance to exchange words with a soldier before I die.

YOU SEEM CERTAIN OF YOUR FATE. WHY?

The Knight radiated an air of agony.

My people, they have banished me. Once I complete my mission, I have nothing to live for. I can not return, and there is nowhere for me to go.

The Commander frowned, showing a lot of teeth. The knight reached for his sword, but she closed her mouth quickly and started writing with the stylus again. The knight didn’t relax, but he didn’t reach any farther, which was good.

WHY WOULD A HERO SUCH AS YOU BE BANISHED FOR DEEDS OF VALOR? IT DOESN’T MAKE SENSE.

The King, the people, ever since the war, where Movaras’ corruption nearly destroyed the world, our way has been to forsake all use of the foul powers which he used to lay waste to the land. But I found myself not strong enough on my own to survive my quest, and...

The Knight stopped writing and lowered his head to his gauntleted fists.

The Commander strugged hard and read what the knight had written upside down on his side of the tablet. Seeing his predicament, she felt a great sympathy for this strange Knight, who had taken up a forbidden arm in order to defend that which he held dear. Her 'decision' was barely that, since it was practically forced upon her by her memories of her own long journey.

The Knight felt something warm on his shoulder, but it didn’t occur to him what it could be until he forced his gaze away from his own misery and looked up to behold the saurian warrior’s arm extended and its claw resting on his shoulder. He was confused. “Why..?” he thought to himself, then collapsed in sobs.

The whispering in the ranks of the beastman army rose to a torrent of excitement. "Our Commander, has defeated the enemy without a blow being struck! Yea! Her strength is great indeed, that she can win a war with either sword or stylus!" But the Advance Guard looked sternly out over the crowd, and they fell back into silence again.

The Commander let go of the Knight's shoulder and nodded towards the tablet. While he was mourning his fate, she had written something with her stylus on her side of the tablet. He read it hesitantly, hoping for some revelation that could solve his problems.

I WILL TAKE YOU TO SEE OUR KING.

The Knight let himself be picked up and carried to the foot of the castle. Surrounded by the forces of the enemy army, he watched the beast who bore him perform a series of arcane gestures at the door and beheld it slowly creep open. They entered to find a series of faerie lights which traced a path through the maze of traps and guards that filled the halls. He was set down next to an ornately carved door and the monster that carried him there tapped once on the door then entered, closing it behind itself. The Knight waited for his fate.

The Commander entered the door purposefully, and bowed her head towards the shrines on the left and right of the entryway, then walked to the middle of the room, which was decorated by a series of murals. Von Gloomdrake was standing before a table which was covered with small tiles, each marked with a symbol denoting towns, castles, mazes, and people. Gloomdrake looked up from his pondering and nodded to The Commander, who bowed briefly, then approached.

"Good evening, Commander. I trust that you have taken care of the latest Knight that King Tiraton dispatched to vanquish our plans?"

"No, Irle. I have not done this, for the situation seems worse than either of us dared to believe. He is no longer a Knight of the crown, but has been banished from his land by Tiraton himself."

Gloomdrake stared into space thoughtfully. "That is truely unfortunate. What has this errant knight done to bring down the wrath of his own general?"

"By his own word, Irle, he has told me through writing that he was forced to embrace the ways of our magic to win his way this far. Although he never had access to a proper training environment, I have seen with my own eyes that he is one who is strong in the art, perhaps beyond measure."

Gloomdrake smiled wanly. "And I, of course, have no talent whatsoever to hold him back. To be born without magic is a terrible thing... but not without its advantages." Gloomdrake shruged, and picked up a scepter that was sitting under the table collecting dust. "Those who must depend on magical sight may well be mislead by the lights that gimmer brightest within their dreams. These dull orbs of mine have beheld much, but I do know that all they have seen has been true in its own way."

"Would you speak with him, Irle?" the Commander asked her leader.

Gloomdrake nodded sadly. "Someone must undertake the task of letting this misled fool know the true state of affairs in Refilice. I will see this Knight."

The Commander bowed and went to the door of the room. She opened it, and gestured for the Knight to enter.

The Knight rose from his seat outside the door and walked into the room. At long last, he stood in the throne room before the Wizard-King Gloomdrake. But to his surprise, the evil King seemed less than the horrific prince of darkness than the Knight had envisioned him as. In fact, he looked more like an old and tired man, who had seen way too much strife and disaster in his life.
The Commander shuffled the Knight up to the end of the room and sat him down in a chair across a table full of blocks bearing arcane marks from Gloomdrake.

"Knight," the wizard began. "I know that you have your own reasons for attacking me, and-"

The Knight slammed his gauntlet down into the table angrily, causing the blocks to tremble in their places. "Wizard-King Gloomdrake, self-appointed ruler of the monster kingdom, master of all which is tainted by the darkness..." The King stopped speaking and let the knight finish his tirade. "...why did you attack us, Why did you kidnap Princess Isilon, WHY won't you leave our kingdom alone!?" he cried out at wizard-king, and stopped, out of breath.

"..if you will let me explain, I will gladly give you my side of the story."

The Knight stared at the Wizard-King dully through the slats in his visor. "Speak, and I will be the judge of whether your words are true or false." He closed his eyes and whispered, as if to himself. "May the purity and strength of my nature become a Guide which will turn all falsehoods to dust, and make truths shine with their inner light of metallic gold." He opened his eyes, which were now full of an auric wisdom and nodded to the Wizard-King to continue.

Von Gloomdrake was impressed. This young Knight, barely twenty years of age, had mastered an art of divination, and without any formal training as well! He had the potential to be a true hero, one who could reach out and hold the entire world in his hand. One with the power to either keep it in order for many years, or snuff out the flame of life and freedom forever.

"Knight," Gloomdrake was serious now. "I believe that you are the one who is mistaken in his evaluation of motives. Do you know why you have really been banished?"
The Knight shook his head, still enraged at the evil Wizard-King.

"When someone is controlling a whirlwind tamed only by lies, the power to see truth is something to be feared. Ever since you attained this Art, have you seen the King? I suspect that your last Audience occured before you even reached the gate to recover your Princess, who is not free of guilt either."

The Knight considered Gloomdrake's words. His Guide whispered in metallic tints in his ear, so he knew that Gloomdrake, at least, must believe the truth in what he was saying. "Continue?" The Knight ventured after a long pause.

"Do you remember the circumstances which surrounded her disappearence?" The Wizard-King asked the Knight, who nodded in reply.

"She was out exploring the fields and valleys to the east of our kingdom, when three dark ships appeared on the horizon. The ships came to our sands and took her, to one of YOUR castles! To rot in YOUR dungeon!" The Knight blurted out.

Gloomdrake nodded knowingly. "Your beloved Isilon, whom I can see you treasure perhaps above all things..." The Wizard-King sighed. "That day when my ships 'took' her.." Von Gloomdrake closed his eyes, revisiting the uncomfortable memories. "Do you know what she was doing, in those fields and valleys?" The Knight shook his head no.

"She was viciously hunting the denizens of the countryside. And not for anything as honorable as gathering food or protecting her settlers. She was engaging hopelessly outmatched monsters in combat for merely the love of mayhem and destruction. Knight, I might not be the most 'pure' of people. But I do try to be pure in my intentions. I was chosen by my subordinates based on only my virtue as a sage, one who has seen enough of the world to dare to understand it. It was easy to see that her ways only lead down the roads of doom. And I have been bound to guard those who have not the ability to protect themselves. That is why I had to order my forces to invade your kingdom, to move to stop your Princess' rampage." The Wizard-King nodded sadly.

The Knight's guide only chimed words of truth. Even if the vile Lord Gloomdrake had attacked on his own, it was for a reason that seemed sensible, even honorable. The Knight stared into his own heart for a long while, and both figures sat silently on both sides of the tiled table like ancient statuary contemplating the future.

Finally, the Knight nodded. "But what of my deeds, of the thousands that have fallen at my hand?"

"Those deaths, Knight, came during the striving of a Quest, for fulfillment of a Vow. Although your deeds were similar in nature, the motive was different, and even though many of my own were slain, I can not condemn the action. It is what I am."

Lord Gloomdrake paused for a moment, then continued.

The Wizard-King continued. "I know, and am deeply sorry, to hear that your people rejected you. And I also know that you took a vow that you would not rest until I have fallen-that I can see by your dwemenor of despair. But I have a possible way which, although it can not make things right, at least might make things bearable for you."

"How?" the Knight answered in wonder. "A vow, once made, even by a disgraced Knight,.." he shook his head. "It can not be broken, even by death. And I have not only fallen from the King's favour, I have-" and the Knight removed his helmet, to reveal a face which was a mixture of human and animal features. His face still bore the scars which he had won in his early battles, but now the form of it was more that of a fox than of a man.

"What could you do, which would free me from my Geas? And where could one such as myself ever live, without being feared and hated?"

The Wizard-King beheld the Knight with new wonder. "Young Knight, I see that you have suffered much in your travels. But I also see that you remain pure of heart and intention, which is no small feat considering the trials you have faced, ones that might easily twist any man's soul into a horrific mockery of decency and honor." Lord Gloomdrake rose from his seat and gestured for the Knight to follow him.

"Let me offer you this, as an answer to your woe, a doorway between happiness and sadness."

The Lord walked up to a panel on one wall and slid it open, revealing a smaller room beyond. He walked into the room and the Knight followed him in. A pair of thick drapes covered the eastern wall, decorated with an intricate embroidery which seemed to almost shimmer in the darkness. Gloomdrake pulled on one of the sashes that was hanging from the drapes, and they slid to the side, revealing a window that looked over the valley full of the demon army's soldiers. Faint cheers went up and the crowds stirred as the Wizard-King Gloomdrake stood at the threshold.

The Knight watched, confused, as Lord Gloomdrake sat down on the edge of the window and gestured for him to sit on the other side. He did so, and to his surprise, even louder cheers issued from the army below.

"There was a legend, within my people, that there was only one person who could lead the world of humans and monsters into an age of peace." Lord Gloomdrake pointed at the wide array of creatures spread beneath them to the edge of the valley. "The story tells of a hero with the mind of a man, the wits of a fox, the speed of a cheetah, and a heart of gold. I believe that you are the answer to our fate." The cheers drifted upwards towards them like brightly colored paper balloons released at a fair.

"But my Geas..." the Knight started, turning to the Wizard-King, who suddenly swung himself over the edge of the windowsill.

"If you are the one, I am no longer needed... Lead them to freedom, and happiness....!" Lord Gloomdrake threw himself off of the edge of the window at the sharp stones beneath.

The army watched in stunned silence as the Knight caught himself in mid blink, then grabbed the end of the sash in one hand and dived out the window after Lord Gloomdrake. Before the ruler had dropped half a story, he had gotten an iron grip around the end of the Wizard-King's scepter and started pulling him back up.

"What was that for!?" The Knight demanded of the apparently mad ruler. The Lord Gloomdrake answered him only with a roaring laugh.

"Ha ha ha! You have all the qualities I hoped!" Gloomdrake started laughing again as the Commander, who had rushed into the anteroom at the sound of the disaster pulled them both back to safety within the castle. "Only one as swift as the wind could have caught me during my dive, and now that I have 'fallen,' so to speak, you are free to act as you will."

The Knight stared at the Wizard-King in disbelief, then started laughing too.

"So you do have a sense of humor!" The Lord Gloomdrake smiled happily. "It's important not to be too serious when you are a ruler. I am glad that I will be leaving the kingdom in good hands."

"Irle?" the Commander turned to Lord Gloomdrake questioningly, then saw the visage of the Knight which she had carried to the castle. She stared in shocked surprise, then bowed deeply to both of them. "I will explain the state of matters to the troops." she said to Lord Gloomdrake. He nodded in return, then turned back to the Knight.

"So, will you take me up on it? Now that you have proven yourself in war, can you lead everyone to a new peace?"

The Knight closed his eyes and thought for a long while.

"I do not know, but I will try."