Puercelor offered a grin, revealing his bright smile and pointy teeth. “I am sorry, Ockwell. I was just enjoying the Firestar. It is a wonderful day now that the clouds are gone,” he said.
Ockwell snorted, giving the smaller imp a hard nudge. Puercelor fought for balance but remained on his feet. “Stop acting strange, Puerc, or we’re gonna have to cook you for lunch,” he said. Puercelor couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.
Puercelor walked closely behind the others as they bantered amongst themselves. All of them had an itching for trouble, so much in fact that Puercelor could only shake his head. The little imp shared many traits with the others, from his dark skin to his clawed fingers and pointy ears. Yet in his heart, Puercelor could not lie, for he felt distant from others of his kind. In fact, deep down, he was content with such differences.
You see, imps were known through all Lunaria as troublemakers. Most were mischievous pranksters, yet many were downright cruel. And this troubled Puercelor greatly, for he had no wish for such things. He knew outsiders viewed him with wary eyes because he was an imp. Also, Puercelor knew his kin viewed him with wary eyes because he wanted to be good.
It was these things that brought the young imp to be on the road with some of his kin. He was still young for such adventures, but the other imps were anxious to see him behave like an imp. And so, they pushed young Puercelor to come along with them. Knowing he had little choice, Puercelor did as he was urged.
The imps walked for some time, laughing and teasing and poking fun at Puercelor. It was an endeavor made worse when the young imp began to whistle a happy tune. The group stopped to cast him dark glances. Puercelor ceased then, choosing to remain silent. Puercelor may have been young, but he was no fool.
After another span of walking, the leader of the pack halted in his tracks and held up his fist. Puercelor knew him well, for he was Midsyr, strongest of the bunch and the object of much of the little imp’s torment. “Hold tight, boys. I think we’ve found what we are looking for,” he said.
Puercelor’s ears perked up at Midsyr’s words. “Adventure?” he asked.
Midsyr hissed, waving the little imp away. “No, mischief, you little sprite,” he scolded.
“Oh. Right,” said Puercelor as his shoulders sagged.
“What do you see, Midsyr?” Ockwell asked as he scratched at his ear. The piercing on it glimmered in the light of the Firestar. Puercelor could see that Ockwell was trying to concentrate, an action that took the imp great effort. The faces he made in those moments always made Puercelor giggle.
Midsyr pointed to a stretch of rock as he offered a feral grin. “Right there,” he said. “That shall be the source of our fun on this day.”
“You wish us to play with rocks?” That was Cutley asking then. This was no surprise to Puercelor, for Cutley rarely could outsmart a rock.
Midsyr shook his head angrily. “Not the rocks, dragon-chow! There!” Midsyr pointed impatiently at his intent. “I mean that stone troll right there that is easy pickings.”
Puercelor focused on where Midsyr was pointing. It took him a moment, but the little imp could finally make out a figure within the rocks. Still staring, Puercelor saw the rigid features of what appeared to be a statue. The only thing that gave it away were the shimmering eyes of blue that the figure possessed. As recognition hit him, Puercelor shook his head.
“A stone troll? That is our entertainment, Midsyr?” Puercelor asked, clearly disappointed at the larger imp’s view on fun.
Midsyr pushed at the little imp angrily. “Of course, runt! Stone trolls are slow and stupid. They have secrets and treasures and we can claim both if we pester it enough!” The others in the group chuckled at his words.
Puercelor was not convinced. “That troll has done nothing to us. It wouldn’t be right to torment it,” he said.
Midsyr reached out and grabbed Puercelor by his neck, pulling him close enough that the two imps touched noses. As he growled, the other imps surrounded them. Puercelor grabbed at Midsyr’s wrists, but did not struggle as the larger imp squeezed more tightly. The group’s patience for the young imp was at an end.
“We’ve had it with you, Puerc,” said Midsyr through clenched teeth. “We brought you out here to give you one more chance to give us a reason not to eat you. This stone troll is your last shot at showing that you are one of us and not some bleeding heart in disguise!”
“I’ll get the fire started,” said Cutley as he rubbed his hands together.
“It’s just too bad that he will make such a small meal,” added Ockwell.
The lead imp bared his teeth in a more feral grin. “We shall make due, provided the little whelp can’t redeem himself in the next few moments,” snarled Midsyr.
“What do you want me to do?” Puercelor struggled with his words, yet was able to be understood with effort.
Midsyr offered him an unsettling chuckle. “Simple. You show us that you are an imp at heart and we let you live. So, the choice is yours. Is it going to be you or the stone troll over there? You go and strike the first blow against it and you are off the hook. You don’t, and I let Cutley start fetching the firewood,” he said.
Midsyr let go of Puercelor then. The little imp fell to his knees as he coughed. The other imps remained around him, preventing Puercelor from fleeing. He looked up at the rest of them, knowing by their eyes that they meant every word. Puercelor understood he must do as they demanded or prepare to be one with the Dream.
“All right,” said Puercelor as he stood again. “I will go to the stone troll. If it will get you to leave me be, I will do it.”
The other imps cheered as Midsyr squeezed Puercelor’s shoulder. “Glad to see you made the right choice. Now go show us that you can be an imp,” he said.
“What shall I do?” Puercelor asked.
Midsyr reached into the pouch tied to his belt and procured a small red ball. The ball swirled with energy in his hand as he examined it. “Take this enchantment and throw it upon the troll. If it can feel, then this will consume it with agony and make it ripe for torment.”
Puercelor looked at him with wide eyes. “The Torrent of Itch enchantment? That’s pretty cruel don’t you think?”
Midsyr shook his fist at Puercelor. “That is the point, you fool!” The imp then placed the soft mound in Puercelor’s hand. “Now get over there and be an imp for once in your life!” He then pushed Puercelor in the direction of the stone troll.
Puercelor began his slow walk toward his target, looking back once at the imps goading him on. The little imp shook his head, knowing there was nothing he could do or say to sway them. It was either going to be him or the stone troll now. The thought of it saddened his heart greatly. Looking at the throwable spell in his hand, Puerceolor sighed and continued his slow, regretful trek.
The trip to the stone troll felt like the longest walk in Puercelor’s life. As he neared the unmoving target, Puercelor noticed that its shimmering eyes were upon him, yet the troll remained like stone. Though veiled in a cloak, Puercelor easily noticed the troll’s features, for they looked very much like chiseled stone. From the large nose to wrinkles, nothing gave any indication that the troll was alive save for the vitality resting in its eyes.
As he neared, Puercelor could still hear his imp kin urging him on. Something in their voices drove him and he felt compelled to give in and pester the stone troll for all he was worth. He offered a smile as his basic instincts drove him further to mischief. This feeling inside him comforted and frightened the little imp.
It dawned on him then that if he did this there would be no going back.
Nearing the troll, Puercelor came to a stop. The little imp readied himself for the mischief that must follow. Raising his arm, he prepared to throw the enchantment. His breath quickened then, yet the troll before him remained still. Puercelor thought that the eyes shimmered brighter above the big nose, but nothing else indicated the troll would defend itself against him. The young imp held his breath as he pr
epared his throw. In a heated moment, his mind was made up.
Puercelor slowly lowered his raised hand.
Sighing, Puercelor approached the stone troll. No longer fearing the outcome, the little imp fearlessly placed his hand on the troll’s arm. It felt as if he were touching cool stone as he did, yet in his heart, Puercelor knew the troll was very much alive. Accepting his fate and course, the little imp prepared himself for what was next.
“Stone troll, I mean you no harm, though my companions wish me to torment you. For fear of my safety I agreed to their wishes, yet I cannot and will not bring myself to harm one who is not deserving of such pain. For my initial weakness, I am sorry and will trouble you no more. I’ll now return to my kin and accept my fate,” said Puercelor before he turned to make his way back to his companions.
As Puercelor walked, it did not take long for the other imps to realize his decision. He could already hear their angry words directed at him. Soon they rushed toward Puercelor, engulfing the little imp as they yelled at him. In moments, Midsyr had worked his way through the others as he grabbed Puercelor and lifted him off the ground.
“What were you thinking, runt?” Midsyr demanded answers as he shook Puercelor. “I offered you a chance to prove yourself and this is how you repay me? You are no imp!”
Again, Puercelor did not fight. “I will let my heart and actions define me, not you. This is wrong and nothing you say will change my mind about it,” he said, letting go of the enchantment in his hand, Puercelor let it fall to the ground.
As the others gasped, Midsyr shook Puercelor again. “You are soft, little whelp! There is no place for you among our kind!” The large imp tossed the Puercelor upon the ground. Midsyr then reached within his pouch again to procure another enchantment to throw. “First, I will show you how to be a real imp and then we all shall make you pay for not learning the lesson sooner,” he said before advancing upon the stone troll.
Puercelor tried to get back to his feet but hands on his shoulders kept him from rising. “Hold still! We will deal with you next,” said Ockwell.
Puercelor watched as Midsyr made his way toward the stone troll. The little imp did not need to see Midsyr’s face to know that he was smiling. In his hand the large imp casually tossed the enchantment up and down as he caught it again and again. Getting close to the stone troll, Midsyr stopped as he raised his arm, prepared to throw the Torrent of Itch upon his victim.
“Midsyr, no!” Percelor screamed. Yet he knew that Midsyr would not listen, so the young imp decided to act.
Squirming free from the hands upon his shoulders, Puercelor pushed his way through the imps’ legs as he sprinted toward Midsyr. The other imps cursed him as they pursued Puercelor, but he was ahead of them now. Not far away, Midsyr pulled back his arm as he aimed his throw. Puercelor could hear him laughing. The little imp loomed closer before jumping toward Midsyr.
At the very last possible moment, Puercelor succeeded in grabbing Midsyr’s wrist. Clinging to the large imp’s back, Puercelor concentrated on the enchantment in Midsyr’s hand. And while he was too young still to conjure a flame, the young imp still held the potential of magic within him. As Midsyr struggled against him, Puercelor continued to channel his will into Midsyr’s wrist.
To Puercelor’s joy, his intent achieved the desired result. The Torrent of Itch burst in Midsyr’s hand, covering the large imp with its magical contents. Immediately, Puercelor let go as Midsyr fell upon the ground, itching and roaring his displeasure. Righting himself, Puercelor turned to see that the other imps were almost upon him. Using the time he had left, the little imp turned and fled.
From the ground, Midsyr paused a moment from his scratching to point in Puercelor’s direction. “Get him! Get him,” he screamed. “Don’t stop until you have made him into a stew!”
Puercelor ran as fast as he could, pulling the other imps further away from the stone troll. But as fast as he was, Puercelor knew that his small legs would not hold him in front of the others for long. And so the little imp ran, hoping to keep the focus on him and off of the stone troll. He could hear the others behind him, gathering closer and closer by the second.
And then they were upon him.
Leaping forward, Ockwell reached out and tackled Puercelor to the ground. A breath later the other imps swarmed him as they easily subdued Puercelor. Ockwell watched as the others held the little imp’s limbs down. Catching his breath, Ockwell shook his head at Puercelor as he decided how best to deal with the little imp.
“I knew you were trouble,” said Ockwell as he caught his breath. “I knew you couldn’t be trusted to stand as one of us. And now everyone will know when we bring back your bones.”
The little imp looked at his tormenter in earnest. “It doesn’t have to be like this,” said Puercelor. “What is so bad about doing the right thing? Midsyr is wrong! That stone troll deserved no such torment. We can be better than this!”
Ockwell was not moved by the little imp’s words. “We gave you a chance, runt. And where you lacked being a good imp you can make up for by being a good supper,” said Ockwell.
Puercelor struggled against his brethren but it was no use. His kin laughed as they decided his fate, but the little imp tried not to hear them. In the distance, Midsyr struggled still as he scratched furiously, but Puercelor took comfort in knowing that the stone troll was safe, at least for the moment. He looked to her now, thinking she was a lot closer than he remembered her being.
“Any last words?” Ockwell asked.
The small imp shook his head defiantly. “None that I would waste on you,” said Puercelor. “I go to the Dream knowing I did what was right.”
Ockwell laughed at this. “Fat little good that did you! When we’re finished with you and Midsyr is all cleaned up, we are going to end what we started with that crummy stone troll.” Ockwell then motioned to where the stone troll stood. “In fact, I am looking forward to getting back to...back to…” Ockwell had turned his head and was now deathly quiet. Soon the other imps turned to see what he was looking at.
The stone troll was now right behind them.
The imps jumped in fright at this, releasing Puercelor as they did so. All eyes fixed on the troll, who stood as motionless as before. Yet this time there was one difference, for while the stone troll was set in place, its hand was outstretched. The imps focused on that hand as their eyes widened further. Within it was the enchantment that Puercelor had dropped before.
Before any of the imps could react, everything was blurred by a flash of red.
Puercelor closed his eyes in the rush of things, unable to process what was happening. He was pulled up from the ground in a blink and gasped at the feeling. Puercelor could hear his fellow imps screaming in pain, yet he could not bring himself to open his eyes. Suddenly, the rushing feeling stopped as quickly as it had started and all that was left was the sounds if his tormented kin in the distance.
And so Puercelor reluctantly opened his eyes, and as he did he gasped. Puercelor found himself safely away from the other imps and in the arms of the stone troll. Behind the stone troll the imps were writhing in a cloud of red brought by the Torrent of Itch enchantment. Nestled warmly in the troll’s arms, Puercelor looked up to see the troll looking softly down at him. Puercelor did not know why, but in that moment, he felt safe.
The surprise did not stop there, for then the stone troll spoke. “You are not like the others of your kind,” said the troll with a soft grin. “It would have been a shame to see them make you into stew.”
For a moment, Puercelor could only stare at the stone troll. Finally recovering himself, the young imp spoke. “Thank you for saving me. I’m truly sorry that we troubled you as we did,” he said.
The stone troll shook her head. Puercelor noticed that every move was very slight and deliberate. “No, it is I who would like to thank you. You see, very few in this world understand stone trolls at all, so often we are the targets of fear and torment, especially from imps. It is a ra
rity that we receive kindness from others,” she said.
Puercelor looked past the troll to see his fellow imps still rolling upon the ground and scratching feverishly. The enchantment was working quite well. “But how did you do that?” The little imp asked.
Puercelor could feel the troll chuckle. “My kind blend well with the rocks, little imp. We can be like stone if we so choose, but that does not mean that we cannot move if we wish to. It takes some effort, but we have a few surprises up our sleeves,” she said. “Do you wish me to let you down now?”
Puercelor shook his head. “I’d very much like to stay here a bit longer. It’s not often that I feel as safe as I do now,” he said. “Can I ask your name?”
“It is Marin,” replied the stone troll. “And it is a pleasure to meet an imp such as yourself, though I think that is not a pleasure your brethren have ever shared with me.”
Puercelor nodded slowly. “It is true. I don’t think I have ever been much liked among my kind,” he said.
The troll nodded at this. “I assume that is something that shall only worsen if you return with the others,” said Marin.
“That is putting it lightly,” said Puercelor with a sigh. “I think it is safe to say that I no longer have a home to return to.”
The stone troll’s eyes looked pained at these words. “Then perhaps I can offer you a safer alternative, young Puercelor.”
“Well to be honest, I am not a fan of becoming a stew,” replied the imp with a chuckle.
Puercelor could feel her chuckle again as she spoke. “No, let us avert that fate if possible,” said Marin. “It would appear that my past and your present have given us common ground. We are both alone. I have long been without my family, for my loved ones were lost in the War of Shadows long, long ago. For as long as I can remember I have made my peace with being alone, yet seeing you and the heart you possess has changed something within me. I propose that you come with me, young imp. Together we shall be the family that the other has sorely lacked for far too long.”
Crescent Moon Page 4
