The Boy and His Curse

by Michael P Mordenga

  “Fragile won! He was right! The boy was supposed to humble him!”

  Fragile had met with Kashun to rub in the fact that his prophecy of doom was wrong. The Davik scrolls had proved Ethan would be victorious. But now Fragile was the new King of Faeria and nothing would stop him.

  “You failed!” Fragile announced as loud as he could. “You said I would be defeated, but now who holds the chalice of victory?”

  “It’s not over!” snapped Kashun, though he didn’t have confidence in that statement.

  “Ethan is still alive.”

  Fragile thought for a second. “We will be meeting soon. The Earth scum will meet a swift end.”

  “I will devote my existence to ruining this victory for you. Every fiber of my being will be devoted to removing you from power.”

  Fragile drew his golden sabre and laid the tip to Kashun’s neck.

  Kashun smiled.

  “Do it, brother! One blink of an eye and I will turn this whole forest into an ash heap. The dark god Avero will love this genocide in his name.”

  Fragile sheathed his sword. “You touch one hair on me and father will lose all love for you. That is a tragedy you cannot ignore.”

  Fragile roared loudly. The entire troll army lowered to a hush. He wiped the spittle and wine off his lips and raised his chalice.

  “We did it! We have slain the enemies of the trolls. Now nothing will stand in the way of our destruction.”

  The legion of faithful warriors cackled and shouted. The roar of troll shouts could be heard from the North.

  A smaller troll with a mane of hair tapped Fragile on the shoulder.

  “Sir, the poison was not injected into the ground. Our engineers were thwarted.”

  Fragile’s eyes heated up. “The ground is not poisoned?”

  “A warrior came and fought us off. The chief engineer was killed with poison.”

  “What of the poison?”

  “The remains of the Phaenix army are camped near there. I had only a moment to contain the poison and bring it with us.”

  Fragile had heard enough! He took his fist and decked the smaller troll in the face!

  “You will not sully my victory!”

  Fragile wrapped his talons around the jaw of the slave that was next to him. She was covered in chains, but her mind was far from escape. Her role was traitor. She had been pivotal in spying for the trolls, giving Fragile the information he needed. Though she was wrapped in restraints over her bony frame, she stared lovingly at her new master.

  Fragile yanked on her chain and she jerked forward. She fell to her knees. “Come wench! I have plans for Ethan.”

  *****

  Caitilin let the salty tears roll from her eyes. This was not a time to pray. This was a time to mourn.

  Ethan had left the battlefield. She knew it. It was as if the Daysun had whispered in her ear. It cringed in her gut until she was just moaning from the pain. Why would he do something so traitorous?

  “Caity,” Gibbs rushed to her side. She had been praying fervently on a prayer pillow in his mountain shelter.

  She peered up at her master with a twisted look. “He left, master!”

  Gibbs gazed down in agreement.

  “What will happen to Faeria?”

  Gibbs was spent. He had not a drop of energy to spend on this news. He found a space next to her on the ground and began patting her back.

  “I have no answer, Caity.”

  She whimpered, “You always have an answer. You speak to the Daysun.”

  “The only answer I have is the Daysun’s one requirement was not obeyed. That can only mean a sour outcome for Faeria.”

  “No!” Caitilin shrieked barely escaping her lips. “Talk to the Daysun! Tell him to make it right! Tell him to forget Ethan! We don’t need him!”

  Gibbs peered down in shame. In truth, Faeria did need him. He was a message to the motherland. He was a lesson Faeria needed to learn. Now the message was loud and clear. Faeria was not meant for saving.

  Gibbs felt an emptiness that was as black as the starless nights. He tried to think of something promising to tell his disciple, but the words failed him.

  “We need to listen closely. Perhaps there is a light of hope. Perhaps we will not all be destroyed by this.”

  Suddenly, Hinson arrived at the house. He dropped to his knees and stayed silent on the dirt floor.

  Caitilin scurried over to him and wrapped her arms around his body. “Tell me I am wrong. Tell me Ethan stayed in the battle.”

  He slowly lifted up. All the while his head was shaking. His face was tense as if he had personally seen Faeria fail in battle.

  “He’s gone. He left before the battle even touched him.”

  Caitilin shrank back. “How could he?”

  Hinson stared at the ground in shock. “He ran away. The eye witnesses say he darted into the East Forest.”

  “Where will he go?”

  “If his purpose here is done, he will be going back to Earth. If he failed the Daysun then he will be discarded,” Hinson said carelessly.

  “How could you say that? He was our friend!” Caitilin reprimanded.

  Hinson pushed that remark aside. “All is not hopeless. While Ethan has escaped his fate, the homeland was spared an immediate extinction.”

  Gibbs perked his head up. “What do you mean?”

  “The Kalhari had a poison that would render our land dead and rotting. It was poised to infiltrate our land. It was Mollet who vanquished the foes before they could plant it in the soil.”

  Caitilin gasped, “They could have killed us?”

  “Today they could have, but they didn’t. We were spared from annihilation.”

  At that moment, Gibbs began to laugh with a joyful guffaw.

  “Master?” Caitilin concerned herself.

  “What is the meaning of your laugh? Faeria has failed.”

  Gibbs wiped a tear and shook his head. “Don’t you see? Our time is not yet to be destroyed. We have been spared. The Daysun is always speaking to us. We need to look for the signs. This sign of hope will lead us to another day. Perhaps this story is not closing on us.”

  Caitilin and Hinson gave Gibbs a puzzled stare.

  He shook his head in comical disbelief. “This is not the end. This is far from the end.”

  Hinson interrupted, “The defeat of our army seems like the end to me.”

  Caitilin agreed, “This is darkness winning over us.”

  Gibbs smiled. He got up and began to pour himself a cup of lavender tea. He turned to the two mourners on the floor.

  “We look for the sign of hope. This is not the end.”

  “What do we do, master? This is a dark tunnel leading only to doom.”

  “We walk this dark tunnel to the very end. We walk by faith and we walk side by side. This is not our time to die. This is not Ethan’s time to give up. This is not the finale to our purpose in Faeria. The darkness has won, but the sign is clear. We were not made for extinction. We were made for walking through darkness and that is what we will do. Do you believe this?”

  Caitilin and Hinson turned their gaze on one another. At that moment they were not sure if they could trust their master.

  One Day Later

  Kioko was at Ethan’s door yet again. So many strange signs revealed to her that he was in trouble and he needed help. Though she wasn’t certain what a one hundred twenty pound Korean kid needed, she felt as if she needed to find him.

  She banged on his door and prepared herself for a reintroduction. Surely, Ethan would not remember their short conversation. It was bittersweet not to see him in school the next day.

  There were no sounds behind the door. He was not home. Was he ever home? She twisted the knob out of spite. The door opened.

  “Hello?” She said faintly.

  The hallway leading up to the kitchen was empty. No one was living in this house and it made perfect sense. The inside had a hazy smoke that burned the nostrils. The walls were c
aked in ash and the ceiling was black. Was it too late to save Ethan? Did he lose his life in this fire?

  Trudging forward she found the kitchen vacant and the adjoining living room empty. The couch was cold, the TV was still on. Part of the support beams were eaten through with fire. No one could have survived this fire.

  The toaster had blackened toast welded to the metal of the appliance. That is where all the smoke had come from.

  Maybe Ethan is clumsy.

  Then a violent rushing of water like the flushing of a hundred toilets erupted. Kioko, startled out of her designer boots, turned to see what had happened.

  On the couch, lying in a green tunic, barely conscious and soaked, was Ethan. His neck had gashes running from the collar bone to the back of the neck. His face was bruised, his skin tone pale like a ghost.

  He began to cough violently, clearing his lungs of water. He rolled over and began feeling the sofa around him. A few more coughs escaped him before he opened his eyes. He spit out water on the couch.

  Kioko stood at a distance. This was not the boy she met in school. “Hello?”

  Ethan startled away, dripping water all over the couch. He took the briefest moment to see his surroundings. The television, the family portrait, the ash covered walls, and his class mate.

  He began to laugh. The laugh detonated into shouts of joy. Finally he looked over at Kioko who was almost hugging the wall from fear. Ethan’s smile was warm and inviting.

  “So? What’s new with you?” he asked.

  *****

  The nights festivities calmed down for the Kalhari. Large kegs of rum were consumed liberally. Blood, sweat, and puke covered garments were put aside to be worn another day. The Kalhari warriors found their tents to sleep in or drunkenly passed out on the grass. This was their new home. The fires that illuminated the forest were dying down as each enemy of Faeria prepared for a new day of ravaging and killing.

  Kashun was meditating in his tent. In his left claw he held a dead necro rat that he sacrificed to Avero. Kashun’s eyes pierced the dark recesses of his mind. He focused on the images that the dark hand of fate, Avero, was showing him. Pitch black tendrils of death, decay, and chaos slithered through the dark. Like a winding tunnel, Kashun waited for the answer that would give him favor with his dark lord. But amid the deep concentration, the picture of his oaf brother would invade in his head. Like an unwelcome visitor, Kashun cursed at the thought of his own greatest rival, Prince Fragile, being king over the land. Kashun bit his lip and begged for any help from the forbidden valleys of the lord of destruction.

  This couldn’t be final fate of the world’s greatest artist and fervent follower of Avero. Surely Avero had a reward for his acolyte.

  “Avero, grant me a sign to bring Ethan back and end my brother,” he repeated.

  The dark winding tunnel of Kashun’s mind stopped.

  A vision crashed through him knocking him over. It became clear like waking from a dream how the end of Faeria would take place. Ethan’s task was far from over. There would be new roles for his pawns to play and new allegiances. Power would be shifted into new hands, while foolish trolls would be destroyed. This was not a war between troll and Phaenix, anymore, but between god and creation. A new game was being decided by powers of Magi, and Kashun found himself at the center of it.

  He bared his teeth. “I will see you on the battlefield, brother.”