The Adventures of Theophilus Thistle

by David Partelow

  The two rode again in silence, both enjoying the ride for their own reasons. Calla felt safe and free while Theophilus felt renewed and relieved. Calla was on her way back to the safety of Alethia. And while this revelation gave the little weed comfort, it also made him wonder as to when he would see her again. Until the culprits for her abduction were caught, she would always be in danger of being stolen away once more. Theophilus realized there was more to his quest than he previously realized.

  As they traveled, these distracted thoughts were vanquished by motion in the trees and brush up ahead. “Look alive, Calla,” said Theophilus urgently. “We are not in the clear just yet.”

  Calla lifted her head. “What is it, Patch?” she asked.

  As he noticed a pair of yellow eyes emerge from behind a bush, the little weed growled. “The Dark Claw imps. They’ve found us,” he said. He could feel Calla shiver behind him as he altered the fox’s direction. “This way, Renard!”

  With their trap discovered, the imps preparing to block the road rushed toward the escaping plants. Renard growled but did as he was urged. More imps rose from their hiding spots to give chase. Theophilus kept as much distance from the vengeful imps as he could, letting Renard also make full use of his speed. Behind him, the little weed could hear the angered curses of the imps.

  With a full slew of the imps in pursuit, Theophilus guided Renard through the trees and brush, making it even more difficult for the imps to use their speed or ploys. Some of the imps began to throw rocks at the fleeing plants, but none found purchase. Theophilus nodded to himself for things were going well. The imps were growing more frustrated by the moment and soon they would be out of range of their curses and rocks.

  Unfortunately, Theophilus saw the rope hanging from the approaching tree a moment too late.

  “Turn, Renard!” The weed called out.

  Renard tried to do as he was urged, but it was no use. The fox’s paw brushed a switch and the rope shot upward. As it did, a net ensnared the fox and his riders. Renard yipped as Calla cried out by the sudden pull. With their quarry caught soundly in a large net, the pursuing imps gave forth great and taunting cheers.

  “Son of a thorn bush!” Theophilus spat, angrier at himself than anything. He procured a dagger to try to cut at the net, but it would take more time than they had to free them. The little weed looked about warily, counting the imps and trying to conjure a way to escape.

  As the imps swarmed, a familiar, jubilant voice filled the little weed’s ears. “Ah, yes. We have you at last, little weed. I hope that the soup we put you into tastes as delicious as this moment,” it said.

  Theophilus looked down at the speaking imp, offering a defiant smile. “Midsyr, old chap! I wasn’t expecting to run back into you so soon. Did you really miss me that much?”

  Midsyr laughed as he was joined by his brethren. “Laugh while you can, whelp. Your time remaining is short. I just wanted to look in your eyes and let you know who sent you into the Dream,” said the imp.

  Theophilus shuddered. It was not the imp’s words but his breath that caused such a reaction. “If it spares me smelling any more of whatever your mouth is offering, I may yet be game,” he countered.

  “You shouldn’t provoke him,” whispered Calla.

  Theophilus looked over his shoulder at her. The flower was pushed uncomfortably against him and Renard. “If you were enduring the smell as I were right now, you would know my words are justified,” he said.

  “But still.”

  “Eh, we’ll see,” replied Theophilus before turning back to Midsyr. “Are you really that desperate for revenge that you would risk yourself like this?”

  Midsyr barked laughter. “Oh, we were paid to do this. The revenge part is just an added bonus. You’ve angered a certain cat who is paying handsomely for plants and a bonus if it is you!”

  Theophilus growled as his features hardened. “Norrex,” he said.

  “Indeed,” laughed Midsyr. Right now, others of my clan are returning to him with more plants to use for his dark designs. Your death may just be for pleasure now,” he said.

  “You lie,” said Theophilus.

  Midsyr reached into a pouch on his belt. The fanged smile on the imp’s face only deepened. He opened his hand, revealing weapons of guardsmen of Bunda-Bas. Theophilus clenched at the net containing him, for while he had no desire to be in his old home, he held even less desire to see any plants meet such a fate.

  “As you can see, weed, I tell the truth. I have been requested to bring you back alive if possible, but we can always say you put up too much of a struggle. Norrex will be happy with a corpse, so long as your precious flower friend returns to his hands unharmed,” touted the imp.

  Theophilus shook his head. “That is not going to happen,” he added before turning his head to whisper to Calla. “Hand me my stick, would you please?”

  “Of course,” said Calla as she set to work.

  Midsyr laughed as he playfully punched the imps to his left and right. Did you hear that, boys? The little weed thinks he is going to stop us,” he chortled.

  “I am indeed,” offered Theophilus.

  Midsyr inched in closer. “You and what army?” He challenged.

  Theophilus shrugged at him. “Just me and my stick, shall suffice,” he replied.

  Midsyr laughed again. “This ought to be a hoot,” he said.

  “For me maybe,” replied Theophilus as he held his hands over his head. Calla handed him Digus. “Thank you, my dear,” he said before pointing the wand at Midsyr. “Shall we begin?”

  The smile on Midsyr’s face evaporated quickly as the tip of the little weed’s wand began to glow. He lunged forward, hoping to snatch it from the hands of his quarry but was too late. The net lurched away from his grasp as Theophilus shot a burst of pure energy at the imp. It hit Midsyr squarely in the chest, sending the imp hurtling into the air before he crashed into a tree and fell limp. With the net now dancing about back and forth, Theophilus continued firing in all directions as the imps ran and dove for cover.

  Theophilus pressed his assault, shooting wildly now. The little weed and his friends were getting dizzy with the net’s swaying, but the blind attack was serving its purpose. The imps were fleeing and their voices were growing fainter by the moment. Satisfied, Theophilus ceased his assault, allowing the net to calm and slow. He kept Digus at the ready just in case the imps held any more treachery up their sleeves.

  “Well that was fun,” said Theophilus absently, his head slowly clearing from the dizzying daze. “Shall we be free of this net now?”

  “Please,” mumbled Calla as she held her hands over her eyes.

  “Very well,” said the little weed as he aimed the wand at the net and fired.

  The blast broke open their prison with ease. Renard offered a surprised yip as he fell first. Theophilus landed on his feet next to the fox. Turning, he watched as Calla used her petals to slow her fall, landing gracefully upon the ground. The little weed leaned against the magic wand in his hand as he enjoyed the sight.

  If only you held half the regard for my greatness as you do for her. Not even thanks for my power saving you just now, said Digus in his mind.

  “Oh, hush, you overgrown toothpick,” said Theophilus.

  Calla turned to him. “Did you say something, Theophilus?”

  Theophilus shook his head and grinned, still leaning on Digus. “Nothing of importance. Just happy you are well, and we are safe,” he said before bowing to his friend. “Shall we continue to Alethia now?”

  Calla shook her head as she eyed him gravely. “No,” she replied.

  Theophilus was taken aback, for he had not expected such a response. “And why not?” he asked.

  Calla looked at him deeply as she responded to his question. “You know why, Patch. We have to try to help those plants and stop Norrex if we can,” she said.

  Before he replied, Theophilus walked closer to Calla, wishing her to see fully the graveness on his features. “L
isten to me, Calla. We barely made it out of there the first time and that was before he was prepared for me or had the imps at his side. If we go back there and face him now, we will surely lose.”

  “We won’t know if we don’t try,” she countered.

  Theophilus turned sharply, frustrated. He dropped Digus angrily as he placed his hands on his hips. The wand made a snide remark about proper care that the weed chose to ignore. Finally, he turned back around to face Calla again. “Calla, I made a promise to return you to Alethia safely and that is what I mean to do. Perhaps if we tell Nibiru what is going on he can gather the proper help to handle Norrex and his minions,” he said before lowering his head. “I could not bear it if my actions helped in losing you again.”

  Calla shook her head before she approached and took the little weed’s hands. “There is not enough time for that and you know it, Patch. We must act now. If we don’t, then what other carnage will this sorcerer bring upon innocent lives? How will we be able to look on each other if we do nothing?”

  Theophilus shook his head ever so gently. “Calla, I would follow you to the ends of Lunaria and beyond. But we cannot win this fight,” he said.

  “Maybe not without help,” she countered with a smirk.

  He raised an eyebrow. “The Grand Market?” he asked.

  She nodded “The Grand Market.”

  Theophilus softened then, running a hand over the purple flora that made up his hair. “Even if we get help, Calla, even if someone is brave enough or crazy enough to follow us, there is still a great chance that the Dream is in our future,” he said.

  Calla smiled, placing a hand on the face of Theophilus. His eyes closed at the sensation before he opened them once more to look at her. “Then I will go to the Dream knowing that we did the right thing and that I will be with you,” she said.

  Theophilus could take it no longer. He reached out and pulled Calla close to him, hugging her fiercely. Her arms soon wrapped around him too and the little weed was lost upon her warmth and fragrance. If it were to be their last embrace, he wished it to be an unforgettable one. “Very well, Calla. We will do what we can. We will try,” he said.

  Calla nodded, her head still against his little chest. “That is all I want, Theophilus Thistle,” she said.

  “That name sounds even better from your lips,” he breathed.

  “Such things you say,” whispered Calla.

  For several more moments, the embrace remained, with neither in a hurry to let go from the other, like it was the last time they would ever hold one another again.

  Chapter Eight

  Back to the Market

  “I’m telling you, Calla, this is a lost cause. No one is going to help two people of our stature on such a quest, especially when a bulk of them want us in a potion or possibly even a salad of some sort,” said Theophilus, frustration mounting in his voice.

  The two friends had made it back to the market swiftly with the help of Renard. Without Elor and Marin, Theophilus was hesitant to return inside the market, especially with Calla in tow. He didn’t think the combination of weed and flower would be easily resisted by unsavory patrons itching to make some extra coin. Instead they remained on the outskirts of the market, keeping their eyes peeled in the hopes of gaining some sliver of luck.

  So far, their efforts had been fruitless.

  Calla appeared restless as she stood next to Renard, petting the fox absently. "Perhaps we should risk it and go into the market," she mused.

  Theophilus turned to look at her swiftly, barking a laugh. "I think not, milady. I agreed with you that we needed to try and help the weeds, not place ourselves in peril as well in doing so," he replied.

  "But we are running out of time," she said, still searching about.

  Theophilus nodded. "Agreed. But we help no one if we end up needing saved ourselves," he said. Just then, he looked to the road, nodding to a grim looking gnome who was walking hastily. "Hello again, Harlim," said the little weed with lukewarm cheer.

  "Gah!" Harlim's eyes almost popped out of his head as he set them upon Theophilus. The gnome dropped the bag he was carrying as he rushed away from the little weed. Remembering his possessions, Harlim stopped, ran back, and grabbed his bag before continuing his escape into the market. Watching him, Theophilus merely shook his head, amused.

  "What was that all about?" Calla asked.

  "It's complicated," replied the little weed. "Suffice to say, that gnome and I are acquainted."

  "Apparently," said Calla ruefully.

  The two plants continued their quest, seeking out warriors among the patrons arriving and departing the market. Much to their dismay, many paid them little or no mind as they asked about. Those that did hear their words declined with various amounts of courtesy. Others eyed them like prized valuables. Theophilus had to remind more than one that he was not a weed to be trifled with.

  At last, Calla sagged her shoulders, defeated. "It appears we may have to go on by ourselves," she said.

  Theophilus nodded. "It would appear so unfortunately."

  Just then, a cloaked figure approached them. "Excuse me, travelers. I could not help but overhear of your situation. Am I correct in understanding that you require aid against the threat of a sorcerer?" asked the man.

  Theophilus nodded but rested his hands loosely on his belt and near his blades. "That is in fact correct, sir," replied the weed warily. "A dark sorcerer, accompanied by Dark Claw imps, seeks to use a handful of our kind to enact a dangerous spell for dark purposes. We fear we are not enough to stop that amount of evil alone."

  "And allies have proved difficult in gathering," added Calla.

  The cloaked figure knelt to address the plants more easily. "I am certain. Most of the people here are farmers and peddlers making a living. I think, however, that I may be able to assist you, as your cause is just and I am not one to let good people be left alone in their hours of need," he said.

  Theophilus regarded the figure more intently. "You will have to forgive me, stranger. I've not had good luck with cloaked figures here as of late, especially in this market," he said.

  At this, the cloaked man nodded, taking off his hood, revealing the angular and beautiful features of an elf. The man held the face of a handsome aristocrat, yet also the gritty edge of a hardened warrior. His sandy hair sided with that of the warrior image, cut short and precise. He now looked on Theophilus and Calla with a piercing, yet earnest gaze as he offered a smile and hand to the little weed. "Young traveler, I am Aradon, former commander of the Second Legion and appointed leader of the town of Quint. From one defender of the light to another, I offer you my hand and aid," he said, his voice rich and sincere.

  At his introduction, Theophilus shook one of the elf's fingers deeply before he knelt, offering his respect. "Sir, your name carries fame and reverence on the winds, even to the reaches Alethia and Bunda-Bas. It is truly an honor," he said.

  Aradon motioned with his hands, urging the little weed to stand. "Please, there is no need for such things, though I am humbled by your gesture," he said as he looked between the two flowers. "What can you tell me of this sorcerer, young Theophilus?"

  Theophilus did as he was asked, standing once more before continuing. "His name is Norrex and he is evil for certain, Aradon. I have felt that all too clearly. And barely did I survive our last encounter attempting to rescue my friend Calla. It was my hope that he had been undone by his own magics, but an encounter with the Dark Claw imps has revealed otherwise. Now he plans to use more of my kind to bolster his strength and agenda," said the weed.

  Aradon nodded sagely, thinking on the weed's words. "The name Norrex is known to me, and his reputation is one laden with wicked deeds," he said before standing himself. "Can you show me where he may be, Theophilus?"

  The little weed nodded. "I certainly can," he said.

  "Good," said Aradon as he looked about. "Now we must marshal some allies," he added before catching sight of another cloaked figure waiting in th
e distance. "Isiago! Go and bring the Ranger captain!"

  The eyes of the little weed lit up when he heard those words. "There are Rangers here?"

  "Yes," answered Aradon, pleased with the weed's enthusiasm. "They are passing through, but the captain of this group is an old friend. We fought side by side for a time before fate called him to the ranks of the Rangers."

  "He must be a skilled warrior," breathed Calla.

  Aradon laughed. "That he is somehow, the rogue! The only thing that keeps him from getting cast out for his insubordination is his great skill," he said.

  "Let us hope that he is willing to help," said Theophilus.

  "If it means doing good and defying his superiors, I would say the chances are quite great," said Aradon.

  The three of them waited as the elf called Isiago returned. By contrast to Aradon, Isiago was a short and rather grim fellow. His stern features were uninviting, and his wary eyes showed mistrust and bitterness. A thick goatee covered his chin, dusted with hints of white. With his hood down, a main of long hair danced freely in the wind. Holding to an icy looking staff, Isiago stopped by Aradon as he nodded to Quint's leader.

  "He is on his way," said Isiago.

  "Splendid," said Aradon before he motioned to the little plants. "Isiago, I would like you to meet Theophilis Thistle of Bunda-Bas and Calla of Alethia. These two brave souls have brought to us a matter of importance, for which we shall offer our assistance."

  Isiago eyed the two plants as if they held little consequence before regarding Aradon. "We should be back to Quint at once. I do not like knowing the town's defenses are diminished with our absence," he said.

  Aradon slapped the robed elf's shoulder. "Nonsense. We needed the supplies. And Quint helps those in need. We always have, and we always will. When did you become so cold, Isiago?"

  Isiago grunted as he looked absently back at the market. "The times change us, Aradon. I simply wish to be prepared always for the worst," said the elf.