The Rise of Greg

by Chris Rylander

  I put my hand on the hilt of the sword—so it really was the powerful sword of Elven legend.

  “Thank you, Master, thank you!” Blob said, rolling to within a few feet of the old man, who, having not smelled Blob in eons, put a hand to his nose.

  “Please don’t call me Master, my friend,” the old man said. “And I am sorry it took so long for someone to unearth you. I had no way of knowing so much time would pass before magic returned to the outside realm.”

  I noticed then that everyone had lowered their weapons. Whatever tensions had fueled the battle before seemed to be gone now that Blob was reuniting with his old traveling companion. Also, I had the distinct feeling that the old man had just been toying with us anyway, that he could have killed us all quite easily within seconds had he really wanted to.

  As the silence settled, Tiki began making the rounds, casting spells to help heal our injuries.

  “So you are Sir Neel the Jackal, then?” I asked, stepping forward.

  “No,” the old man said. “Not anymore. Nobody has called me that in a long time.”

  “But you were him?”

  He nodded slowly. “Once upon a time, yes.”

  “So Humans can perform magic?” I said, leaning my head back as Tiki cast a spell to help mend the broken cartilage in my nose.

  “Well, of course they can!” the old man formerly known as Sir Neel the Jackal said. “Some of them, anyway. Did you really think that only fantastical creatures such as Elves, Dwarves, and the like were special? Humans originally came from Separate Earth, too, you know.”

  I shrugged.

  The old man seemed to find my ignorance rather amusing.

  “Of course there are Human Wizards and Witches,” he said. “But alas, I was not one back then. Wizards are not allowed to become knights. I could not perform magic when I was Sir Neel the Jackal.”

  “So only once you became the, uh, Nobleman Rainaldus, then?” I asked, clearly very confused.

  The old man laughed, shaking his head.

  “No, no, that was nothing more than a simple name change,” he said. “To hide my identity! I was the same person. Either way, both of those men, those names, died a long, long time ago. I am something else entirely different now. Which is why I can perform magic, as you call it.”

  “So what are you now, then?” Edwin asked.

  “Well, officially, my new given name is Ranellewellenar Lightmaster,” the old man said. “But I sort of prefer to go by Kreych. Though of course that’s a rather amusing sentiment in itself, since you’re the first living creatures I’ve spoken to in many thousands of years.”

  I grunted as a sharp elbow hit me in the ribs. It was Ari, and her eyes were wide with excitement.

  “Greg, that’s him!” she whispered. “Just like the Fairy legend! Ranellewellenar Lightmaster is the name of the guardian of the Faranlegt Amulet of Sahar!”

  CHAPTER 35

  The True Tale of Ranellewellenar Lightmaster: Guardian of the Faranlegt Amulet of Sahar

  So you’re really him?” I blurted out. “The Ranellewellenar Lightmaster?”

  “Kreych, please,” he said. “Call me Kreych. I never liked that name . . . Ranellewellenar Lightmaster. Yeecchh!”

  “But you are the guardian of the Faranlegt Amulet of Sahar?”

  Kreych laughed and then shrugged.

  “No,” he said. “The reality is I am so much more than that now.”

  “What does that mean?” Glam asked. “I’m tired of all these riddles!”

  “It’s no riddle, child!” Kreych said. “A long story, yes, but surely tis no riddle. Come, then, let me tell you my tale, so you will fully understand and can stop all your fussing.”

  We gathered around the old man as he lifted a stool upright to sit on.

  Up close, I realized just how old he really looked. His skin was so saggy and wrinkled and pocked with warts and moles and spots that he almost looked inhuman. Like a skull covered in a soggy dishcloth and a cheap white wig.

  Blob rolled up to Kreych’s side, and the old man placed a hand affectionately on the smelly mound of ooze.

  “Now then, where to start?” he said. “Oh, yes! Why not with meeting the Fairies in a small village called Thornpond in the northernmost reaches of the Troyon Province in the Rozen Kingdom. The Fairies had summoned me there for a job. Why me? To this day, I still do not fully know, but I do know I am forever cursed because they chose me! Regardless, the Fairies offered a pretty considerable sum of gold just for the meeting itself, so of course I agreed. But I had no intention of accepting whatever silly mission they were going to offer.

  “Anyway, we met in a dingy tavern called the Nimble Salt on the edge of town. Just the Fairy Mother, whose name was Tangy Neverbees, and me. Blob and her Fairy Warrior escorts waited outside and kept watch. It is quite odd for a Fairy and a Human to be seen together, especially in a region like Troyon. And so certain precautions had to be taken, such as her assuming the form of a Human. And we also met late, well past the rise of the moon, nearly to its fall, in order to avoid drawing unwanted attention. Even when disguised in ‘Human’ form, Fairies still emit a faint ethereal glow that would be easily noticeable to a keen observer.”

  And then the old man told his tale.

  * * *

  “Nobleman Rainaldus the Honest,” Fairy Mother Neverbees began. “Or should I say: Sir Neel the Jackal, disgraced knight, thief, confidence man, most-wanted outlaw in the Amalgamated Kingdoms, and all around scalawag?”

  I hesitated before answering, she having so fully and accurately called me out.

  “Perhaps,” I said.

  “There’s no need to pretend around me,” Mother Neverbees scoffed. “Fairies are clairvoyant. Were you not aware?”

  I nodded—I had heard that, but of course as with most things, hearing that something is true does not make it true.

  But she knew who I really was. If anyone else around there were privy to such information, they’d be clamoring to behead me so they could take my ugly mug to the Elf Lord and collect the substantial bounty he’d placed on me for having stolen his prized sword. Then again, if the Fairy Mother wanted to collect a bounty on me, I would already be dead or incapacitated. Even a wily, conniving Human such as I was no match for the Fairy Mother. It was often said she was the most powerful single living creature in this world. Besides, Fairies had long been known for their spritely benevolence. And not for violence, greed, or lawful righteousness.

  “Okay, so you know me,” I finally said. “What now?”

  “Now,” Mother Neverbees said with a patient smile, “you will listen to me.”

  I nodded.

  “This planet is going to change,” she began, using a word which at that time I was not yet familiar with. Back then, I still had no idea our Earth was just one of a gazillion others like it, spread throughout this universe. “Not the planet itself, but the nature of its civilizations, the governing rules behind the way energies interact. Many species will go extinct, or rather, will virtually disappear, becoming as dormant as the magical energies that breathe life into them at present.”

  I still didn’t have any real clue what was going on, but I essentially got the meaning of what she was telling me.

  “How do you know all of this?” I asked in a low voice. “Fairies are clairvoyant, sure, but even you cannot see the future. Nobody can.”

  “You are right,” Mother Neverbees confirmed. “I am not seeing the future. But I know these things will happen, because we, the Fairies, are the ones who are going to instigate the change.”

  “What? Why would you want to do that?”

  “We must, in order to save the world from certain destruction.”

  “Well, see, now you’ve really lost me,” I said, shaking my head and downing the rest of my tankard of ale.

  Mother Neverbees contin
ued to smile patiently, the subtle glow around her face making my eyes water.

  “You’re aware that the Elven and Dwarven kingdoms, and their allies, are at war, yes?” she asked.

  “Yeah, of course,” I said. “But the fighting is happening halfway around the world in Thiess, in the Elven Realm of Efferion and the Dwarven Kingdom of Voldor, mostly. That’s partially why I fled that region and came over here. So what’s that got to do with me now?”

  “Their petty squabble is growing,” she explained softly. “Their number of allies is growing. Their armies are growing. They are learning new ways to harness the powers of magic and are using it in unspeakable ways. It won’t be long before our whole planet, our very existence, becomes a casualty of this war.”

  “Okay,” I said uneasily.

  That certainly seemed plausible to me. But I had never feared death. When I died, I would simply be dead and gone. I probably wouldn’t even know it had happened. My own death was of no concern to me—it would happen eventually and could not be stopped. It would be what it would be. No more and no less.

  “So what?” I finally added after a long pause. “If that happens, it happens. How could you even stop their war anyway?”

  “We are going to purge this world of magic,” Mother Neverbees said, her tone dark and ominous (for a Fairy). “Banish it to the depths of the Earth. We believe this will diffuse their battles. Or, at the very least, keep them from destroying the rest of us while they attempt to destroy each other.”

  I knew the power of Fairies, but still didn’t believe they were capable of something like that.

  “I suppose how you plan to do this isn’t something you can share, right?” I asked.

  Mother Neverbees nodded.

  “That is indeed none of your concern,” she confirmed. “But we do need your help with an ancillary matter. One of the utmost importance.”

  “I’m listening . . .”

  “We need you to travel to the Dedmouth Forest,” Mother Neverbees said. “There you will take up residence inside a cave at the base of Dryatos Peak and the Empty Mountain. You will become the Immortal Prophet Ranellewellenar Lightmaster, Keeper of All Time and Existence, Recorder of Life, Guardian of the Earthly Vaults, Warden of the—”

  “Whoa, whoa, wait just a second,” I interrupted. “What in the name of Goodricke’s Beard are you talking about? You want me to become some sort of immortal prophet?”

  Fairy Mother Neverbees nodded.

  “I mean, that’s . . .” I started, but then I stopped since I didn’t really know where to go from there. I took a breath, collected my spinning thoughts, and tried again. “Even beyond the insanity of what you’re saying, why me?”

  “I cannot explain it in a way you could fully comprehend,” she said. “But your spirit is pure, and your heart is noble, and—”

  “What!?” I interrupted again. “You said yourself I was a thief, a liar, a confidence man, and an all-around scalawag. And you weren’t wrong! I’m a mercenary. I do unlawful, sometimes terrible and cruel things for money. That sounds like the opposite of a pure spirit and noble heart to me!”

  Mother Neverbees laughed.

  “You Humans have always viewed everything so . . . superficially,” she said. “The true nature of who we really are goes so much deeper than a mere collection of actions. A person’s deeds are sometimes accurate. Other times, they are wholly deceptive.”

  “Okay, whatever, maybe I’m not so bad deep down,” I said, waving my hands around like I was telling a tall tale. “Even still, there have got be purer souls around than me, right?”

  “They have other purposes in this realm, and the next.”

  I was a bit miffed. This lady was basically telling me I had no other purpose than to help them somehow banish magic by moving into a cave and becoming some sort of immortal prophet or some such nonsense. But I must admit now, even back then I knew she was right. I wasn’t happy with my life. Never had been. I was always chasing a coin, or a woman, or a drink. Searching for a sort of fulfillment I’d never find. Lying to myself that being a vagabond, that not having a care or purpose in this world, was true freedom and what I always wanted.

  “Okay,” I said slowly, carefully, so as not to make it sound like I was accepting her job just yet. “So, what does being this prophet entail?”

  “You will first cease to exist as you do now,” Mother Neverbees said. “You will no longer be Human, but rather a Laresombie: an undead entity trapped between the spirit world and the physical world. You will be immortally tied to this Earth, until either you find a replacement, or the very planet itself is destroyed. You will know everything that has ever happened on this world. Though nobody can see the future, you will become a keeper and knower of the past and present, of our very existence. You will monitor the planet, become a record of all that happens, so others that come later may learn from our mistakes. And in time, should the Fairies find a way to come back to this realm, we will need a record. We will need a keeper of things, a warden of history, natural and civil, and—”

  “Hold on,” I interrupted again. “What do you mean if you find a way to come back? Where are the Fairies going?”

  “As I said,” she explained softly, ever kind and patient, “certain beings will cease to exist once we do what we must.”

  “You’re going to destroy yourselves to save the world?”

  “Some sacrifices are worthy,” Mother Neverbees said. “So be content in knowing you will not be the only one making a sacrifice for the greater good.”

  I nodded then, not needing to hear anything more.

  I already knew what I must do.

  * * *

  “And so,” Kreych said, finishing his story, “the next day Blob and I set off on our journey toward the Dedmouth Forest.”

  “So that’s it?” Ari said. “You accepted her offer just like that? You gave up your own life on a whim?”

  “Hardly!” Kreych said, standing up suddenly and leaning back. His spine cracked loudly several times as he groaned in relief. “I took the rest of that night to think it over while downing a dozen more tankards of ale. Then I did the same all over again for nearly a fortnight while on our journey. But, in the end, the Fairy Mother knew me better than I knew myself. She had offered me a purpose. Finally. It is sort of ironic how a guy with a death wish, who truly didn’t care about the value of his own life, somehow then became immortal. Hah. But such are the stories of life. Believe me, I know them all now. More crazy things, including many that were never recorded or written down, have happened in this world than any of you can possibly imagine.”

  “Why couldn’t Blob come with you?” I asked. “If all you’re doing down here is, like, ruminating on the stuff happening in the world?”

  Kreych actually smirked slyly at me, as if laughing along at my own cynical breakdown of his new job.

  “Being the Prophet, the Keeper of Existence, is meant to be a solitary duty,” he said. “It’s why the Fairies needed someone who had formed very few personal connections with others. Someone like me. Back then, Blob was truly my only friend, and even then it was because he simply wouldn’t go away.”

  “I would not!” Blob confirmed, and then laughed. “I was like feces stuck to your boot, as you so often told me!”

  Kreych smiled fondly at this memory and nodded.

  “Indeed I did,” he said, patting Blob like a pet.

  “So if you’re like a keeper of knowledge or whatever,” Wrecking Ball, who I knew was a neat freak, asked, “then what’s with all this stuff in here? Aside from the books, this is just stuff. Chairs? Goblets? I mean, is that a pile of spoons over there? I would hardly call all of this a real record of life and existence.”

  Kreych laughed, surprising us all.

  “It is indeed mostly junk!” he said. “Fairies may be benevolent, noble, altruistic, kind, playful, et
cetera, et cetera, but they are also super vain. I mean, I’ll be frank: Fairies really like pretty things.” Kreych motioned around him at the piles of stuff. “And they find beauty in everything.”

  Some of our group chuckled.

  But I was anxious to get back on track. I was more sure than ever that the amulet was here in this very room. And I wanted to get my hands on it before Edwin did.

  “You must know then how the Fairies banished magic,” I said. “Since you’re now the Keeper of the World or whatever. The guardian of the amulet.”

  “I already told you, I’m not the guardian of the amulet,” Kreych said. “I have many titles, but that is not among them.”

  “Okay, so guardian may not be one of your many titles,” Edwin pressed, likely thinking the same as me: that he wanted to get to the amulet first. “But surely the amulet must be down here. The Fairy legend has long said as much.”

  “No, I’m not the guardian of the amulet because it simply doesn’t exist,” Kreych said. “The Faranlegt Amulet of Sahar is nothing but a myth. A simple story made up by the Fairies and nothing more. It is not real.”

  CHAPTER 36

  I Find Out That Failing Brilliantly Is Not a Dwarven Thing at All, but Rather Something Purely Unique to Greggdroule Stormbelly

  The silence in the cavern said it all.

  We had come all this way, battled through so much, to find the amulet. An amulet that didn’t exist and never had. Just like Bigfoot John had said. Just like the old Elf in Chumikan had said. Just like nearly half the Dwarven Council had said.

  We’d been warned so many times that the story was hogwash, and we’d dismissed them all.

  “But . . . but that’s impossible,” Edwin finally said weakly, clearly as shocked and discouraged as I was. “How else did the Fairies manage to suppress magic for so long?”