I know, I skipped a week, it was honestly on accident due to my work schedule shifting around last week. By the time I realized it, I decided rather than rushing to dump this out a day late, I’d just hold off a week.
If I’m being honest, an extra week didn’t help. I’ll explain more after the story. Enjoy! PLEASE!!!
There are no words in the tongues of human, goblin, lizardman, or fey creature to adequately recount the events that transpired. To hear Traudl’s account, the battle lasted a week, but surely it couldn’t have been that long. They fought across the length and width of the castle, backing up, then pushing forward. They made their final stand on the roof, harried by the elements, they slew the seven headed beast.
When Traudl removed her sword, steam began to rise from the body of the dragon and a mist enveloped the heroes, blinding them. When the mist cleared, there lay the body of the six soldiers and Mozebarr himself.
Traudl stood back as Mozebarr rose to his feet. He began to speak, the menace in his voice gone, now replaced with sorrow. “All these years I have been here fending off warriors. Each and every one of them succumbed to my traps or were victims of their own greed. Even if they lasted long enough to fight me, all fell to my spell of binding, but you did not. I thought maybe your elf blood had some bearing, but really it must be something in that head of yours, or maybe your heart.”
Mozebarr seemed no worse for the wear. Traudl suspected the crown gave him the power to heal himself, or change into yet another giant monster form to crush her, but he didn’t. He looked to Traudl. “Well, you’ve won. Go ahead and take the crown.”
“No.” She said, defiantly. “I don’t want the crown.”
“You don’t?” He asked, a slight hint of a relief creeped into his tone.
“I want this awful curse to end. I want my thoughts back, so I can remember what I came here for. If taking the crown from you is the only way to make that happen, then I will do that, but I would like it better if you just gave it up willingly.”
“There it is.” He said with a grin followed by a bright flash.
When Traudl’s vision returned, the grand evil castle was gone, replaced by a crumbling ruin. The driving, but ultimately harmless, rain and storms were gone. The sky was cloudy, and the air was slightly cool and bit damp. The unnatural silence that had permeated the land slowly began to shatter. First the sound of a cricket, then two, then the buzzing of a mosquito as it flew inside Traudl’s helmet. On any other day, in any other part of the world, one might call the experience mundane, or even miserable. But this return to the banal signaled the end of the deception.
All around Traudl were men clad in armor, but now they each looked unique again, except for the fact they all had the same befuddled expression.
In the place of the vile fiend Mozebarr, a child now sat. He was young, maybe twelve years in age, physically looking no older than Traudl. He opened his eyes and smiled at the muddled sky. At his feet was the magical crown, broken in two.
“Please, do not let my appearance fool you, Traudl.” He began, his voice humble, and lacking any threat. “For over a century I have held this land in bondage. Do not have mercy on me. I have done nothing to deserve it.”
“Who are you?” Traudl asked.
“I am Prince Mose Barra, of Ailehan.” His voice far wearier than his immature body would suggest.
Traudl knelt down and picked up the broken pieces of the crown, its splendor gone. “Why did you create such an evil curse?”
“My father was in possession of this ancient relic, forged by some wicked sorcerer a millennia ago. The crown was rumored to be evil and perilous to use. It was said some in the past tried to destroy it, but they were unable, or maybe unwilling. It acted on any who came near it, making them envious of it and wanting to possess it. And so, my father had it locked away, secretly desiring it, but always keeping it just far enough away that he wouldn’t go near it.”
“Things began to go poorly for my father. There was a long drought, crops failed. The people were starving and upset. When he thought he was alone, he would curse fate and mutter about whether he should use the crown. But he never did. His will was so great he would sacrifice his own kingdom to keep the evil at bay. I had no such willpower. I didn’t want to see my father in such distress. I sneaked in and I took the crown and used its magic to end the drought, and save my father’s kingdom.”
“My father was distraught. He demanded I undo what I had done and give back the crown, but I wouldn’t. I couldn’t at that point. It had already taken hold of me. And it had started to enact its evil. My greed became amplified, like a beacon, that flashed across the land.
“Sure, the rains were steady, the crops were abundant, but everyone stopped helping one another. They began fighting amongst themselves. So, I used the crown again to put an enchantment on the land that would rob them of their free will, so they would just carry on with simple lives. But when someone new wandered into the land, the crown’s evil desire focused on them, bent on getting itself into the hands of a new, more ruthless keeper that would spread its wickedness afar.”
“I devised a scheme, a game almost. If newcomers were overcome with desire, then I would give them things to desire, focusing their mind on attaining those things, such as gold and power. I would send them on a crazy journey back and forth with greater challenges along the way, forcing them to keep wanting more. By the time they came for the crown they were blinded by their greed and would succumb to my binding spells.”
“Binding them to the crown, like you.” Traudl said. “But isn’t that what the crown wanted? More people to bring under its evil spell.”
Mose laughed. “Maybe so. I would like to think maybe I’m not such a terrible person, and it was the crown that made me do it all, but surely it was just amplifying what I wanted. The greedy desires of a scared little boy.”
Traudl gave Mose a sympathetic smile. “It’s unfair to expect a child to understand those things. The crown is proof that there’s evil in this world that preys on fear, and it found just the right person in you. But why did the crown break? Why didn’t it force you to make an even bigger monster to stop us?”
Mose smiled. “Simple. It encountered someone who didn’t want it. You didn’t want to use its power; you didn’t even want to take it from me to stop me from using it. You wanted me to give it up willingly. It was nothing more to you than a promise you made to help someone. It couldn’t penetrate a selfless heart. The spell was broken. The crown was broken, its evil vanishing into the ether, I hope.”
Traudl tried to rise back to her feet, but tumbled over. With the spell fading, her usual strength returned. Her armor was too heavy for her to move in it.
“The spell is already wearing off. Soon, you’ll just be Traudl again, not the epic hero.” Mose said.
Mose assisted Traudl in removing the armor, allowing her to finally spring back to her feet “Well, I think I like this version of me better.”
Just then a drop of water fell. Then a few drops more. Soon enough a soft rain came.
Mose looked up to the sky and beamed. “Rain! Real rain. I’ve forgotten what it feels like. It was rain that started all this wickedness”
Traudl laughed. “I think the novelty will wear off the longer we stand in it. Shall we go home?”
“Home?” Mose question, “Where are you taking me?”
“Back to your father of course.” Traudl said.
“I understand. I must pay for what I have done.”
“Maybe your father will be mad.” Traudl began, “But maybe he’ll just be happy to have his son back.”
Thankfully, some of the other former thralls of Mozebarr were sailors and knew how to handle the ship. Now that the seas were no longer under the crown’s magic spell, things weren’t so effortless.
In Thalengarde they were greeted by the town’s people. Each and every one of them looked different now, but they all shared one thing in common, they were smiling and happy. They offered to treat Traudl to a feast fit for the king himself, and Traudl was happy to oblige only if Mose and the others would be fed as well.
After a night of feasting, and several hours of good rest, the party continued south to Ailehan. No monsters attacked the group, for which Traudl was pleased, since she no longer had any weapons or armor.
The land was similar to what Traudl had on her map, but it was now more varied and less perfect. The grasslands, mountains, hills, and river were all where they should be, but now the land was uneven and at points hard to travel. There were small patches of dead grass and other areas where the grass was taller. The sun moved through the sky from east to west, breaking with a brilliant pink at the dawn and setting into a fiery blaze of orange as evening came. The night sky was black and dotted with stars and the land around was covered in shadows cast by the light of the moon. Animals wandered from place to place, and the voices of the wild returned to the land. It seemed that everything was back to the way it should have been.
After three days of travel, they came to Ailehan castle, which was now splendid to behold. Its massive white towers and gold tiled roofs shone brightly in the morning sun. They were spotted from a distance, and horns began to trumpet their arrival.
A large party of people cheered and welcomed the returning heroes at the gate. The king made his way through the crowd to greet them.
“I know you, and yet I don’t know you.” The king mused. “But I am both grateful for what you have done and uneasy for what it means.”
“How so?” Traudl asked.
“The holder of the crown would not give it up willingly, this much is certain. So, for you to have undone its curse means that you must have killed the one who wore it. For a century, beneath the spell-woven artifice, my mind was free to ruminate on this loss I might one day face, but I still cannot say I am prepared for it. Nor am I prepared to have such an evil relic back in my hands.”
Traudl produced the broken pieces of the crown. “You don’t need to be afraid anymore, King. The crown is broken, it can’t create any more mischief. And the one who had it—” She turned around, expecting Mose to be right behind her, but instead he was cowering at the back of the pack. She weaved her way through everyone and then pushed him forward, grudgingly. “—is here!” she finally continued.
The king stepped forward, fighting hard to maintain his regal demeanor, but finally broke down sobbing. “Mose! My boy is alive!”
The two embraced, but there would be much healing to do. Though no real harm had come to the people of the land, they had still lost much in the century that passed them by. But Traudl would have no part in that tale.
Most of the spell’s effects had faded, but neither Ziphar or Traudl had regained their memory of why they had come to the land in the first place. But both knew it was time to head home and put the adventure behind them. They traveled together with the other former thralls of Mozebarra until they headed off in their own directions for home. Ziphar and Traudl continued together, neither quite sure when the other might break off and head elsewhere.
Finally they arrived at Enas’ni.
“Do you live here?” Ziphar asked.
“Yes… well, no.” Traudl responded. “Only temporarily. I’ve been living with a friend. She was why I went to the north, but I can’t remember why.”
Ziphar chuckled. “I went to the north for my wife, and now I don’t remember why. I hope she won’t be mad.”
The two stood awkwardly for a moment, then Traudl leaned over to hug Ziphar. “Thank you for helping me.”
Ziphar held her firmly. “And thank you for not giving up on me.”
“I suppose we will see each other around town.” Traudl said nervously.
“Indeed.” Ziphar said with a smile before both began walking again, in the same direction, to the same house.
The two stared at each other confused when the door opened, and Sylva shouted with joy. “You did it! You brought him back!”
Traudl looked to Ziphar, and then back to Sylva with a shrug. “Yep! I sure did.” She said with a laugh.
Sylva rushed to embrace Ziphar. “And you! You fool! Tell me after all that time gone you at least sold the wares you brought.”
“Uhm, about that.” Ziphar stammered.
Traudl then produced a small jangling bag. “Yep!”
“You kept your gold?” Ziphar whispered.
“Not on purpose.” Traudl whispered back. “I just forgot I had it. And now Sylva can have it. I think I’m done seeking riches for a while.”
This was, for all intents and purposes, a first draft of a complete re-write of an old story. The bones of the story were kept. Quirky character arrives in a place that operates like an old school JRPG (Japanese Role Playing Game). Hilarity ensues. However, it was almost entirely re-written, including why she was traveling to this land in the first place. Because I, foolishly, didn’t re-write the whole thing at once, and instead did a week to week job, like I was doing (and will keep doing) with the ancient magic story, I failed to properly set up some elements that I decided would be important later. I got to the final two chapters and suddenly decided to pay off some ideas that were never established.
Worse, I stupidly undercut the joke I wanted to end it with, that Ziphar was Sylva’s husband and Traudl kind of accidentally saved him and brought him home. Though, it would be implied that, deep down, she knew what she was doing, she just was confused and unable to express it.
Lesson learned… or was it? I bet I make the same mistakes with the ancient magic story. 🫣
But, the purpose of this blog isn’t to release professional writing ready to go to print. It’s just to bang out ideas, week by week. Keep my creative juices flowing. Create. Create. Create. Even if there are flaws, it’s still good practice. If I really like something I write here, I will take it, re-compile it into a single volume, and fix all the flaws… well, most of the flaws. The ones I can see. The rest stay in.
Armchair Screenwriter 