“Welcome to your senses, my host.” A tall, barrel chested human looked down at Mordred. Long, dark-red hair spilled over his shoulders pointing down at the young Denoan. A smile pierced the man’s beard and he nodded sideways. Mordred was almost blinded from the glint of sunlight from his helmet and armored breastplate.
“Warren…” Mordred grunting, getting up to his feet with his help.
“At your service, my lad.” he said with a gloved hand covering Mordred’s bare one, helping the Denoran up to his feet.
“What just happened? I remember you, but barely. You…”
Warren held up a metallic gloved hand in his direction. “Let’s just say that you were here when I needed you, lad.” He laughed, clapped Mordred on the back. He bade them to walk around the now-still arena. No people, no horses, no tension from an almost heavenly war re-starting for the first time in millenia. Just a Knight of old and a young Denoan merchant assistant and sometime arena prize fighter.
“Why me? I’m your…great, great, great…something but why me and now?”
“Why not you?”
“And I thought that Eldren was rude.”
“Truly spoken. He is that. But I just knew that you were the right one.”
“I’m no Knight. I’m no great warrior. I get lucky in my paid matches because of my bear-strength, and taking skill from the obsidian sword here..” He paused, feeling for the scabbard. Gone.
“Relax, it’s safe. You don’t need it here. We’re between realms of flesh and spirit. To go further, I knew there was great good in you. You’ve been discovering your own talents in the arena. Plus…he will never admit it, but Eldren relies on you to keep count of the money he makes for you. You’re not as lost and hopeless as you think that you are.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve seen a lot of the world and met many peoples over the Land. Fought some great warriors and beasts as well. Many of the skills you use are NOT from my old friend that is usually at your hip.”
“You’re not going to tell me that I’m all grown up, are you? I don’t need any more awkward moments. Getting possessed by an armored Knight was plenty.”
“Ah. Yes. I can see how that would be….awkward…as you say.”
“You mentioned seeing good in me. There’s good in everyone, to be fair..”
“Yes, that habit you have, Mordred, my host. Seeing good in everyone. Seeing what is right, just and fair in this harsh landscape of cruel rulers, greedy merchant goblins and wizards only seeing titles, secrets, knowledge of things that are none of their business.” He shook his head once more. His dark red locks wavering like his thoughts probably were. He spent enough time in Mordred’s head so guessing what was going on was easy. Some facts weren’t.
“Well, isn’t there good and evil in everyone?”
Warren burst out laughing, the sound echoing from his large torso. “This. Coming from a young Denoan Tribesman that almost got sold into slavery by rival landowners. This. Coming from someone who has made a nasty-tempered goblin a lot of money. This. Coming from someone who has risked his neck more than a few times in the arena using a weapon and an ability he is barely familiar with.”
“Are you saying I’m one of the good guys in this play? The hero?”
“I’m saying that you have every right to use that gift, that weapon to get revenge on everyone that wronged you. But you chose an honorable and compassionate way.”
“Noble like a Knight? Is that what you were going to say?”
“Your words. Not mine, dear boy.”
A few more paces in the empty arena with the awkward silence except in Mordred’s head followed. The shuffling noise of Warren’s boots and Mordreds’ heavy feet echoed.
“Now what? Am I a Knight now? Am I going to be a great hero of the arena? Or just a traveling merchant like Eldren?”
Warren laughed. “Oh dear, I do hope you don’t consider emulating your goblin friend. Or even becoming a….sell sword. Dear me. No. No. The time of Knights and heroes is at an end, my host.” He looked down and around this misty small area that he and Mordred found themselves in, the sights of the surrounding arena in a vague background, the sun having come out. Something about Warren’s being felt sad, heavy and dark. He missed something. He knew that he no longer belonged here. “What I need you to do, is to use these gifts, to make yourself better. You already know what you need to do, dear host. But understand this….you are not a great hero, a legend in the making, or a talented merchant destined to be wealthy. No. You won’t be a king, a powerful wizard or even a remarkable tactician and soldier either. Just a traveler in this Land. You’ve had some wild and strange adventures and survived with the help of that detestable goblin and the Empress that needs to learn the same lessons as you and there will be more. Trust me, there will be much more, but there will likely be no bards’ tales sung about you, stories told to children through puppetry or at their bedtimes. No. You’re just a young Denoan surviving.”
“That’s it.”
“That’s it.”
A long pause.
“Are there any questions so far in this lesson?”
“No. Not yet.” Mordred looked around at the hazy view of the arena, taking a deep breath. “So what now? What about you? What happens to you now? Do you die again?” He paused. “Are you leaving us again? Or are you going to be a ghost or something like that?”
“I suppose that counts as a ‘yet’. I’ll just simply….go away….but not like you understand death. You have my weapons, my armor, my ability…yes, my host, the ability to absorb knowledge of a weapons’ former owner. That was me. And the changing into an animal magic, that was something from your great-great-great….you know the rest..grandfathers’ time before the fall of the Heavenly Gates. The rest, your decisions, your bravery. That is on you.” The misty border of this bubble they were encased in began to dissipate. “This looks like my stop.”
Mordred cocked his head to one side and raised one eyebrow.
“It’s a phrase that your ancestors will overuse. Interpreted, it means that I will now take my leave of you.” His armored hands moved to bring out a scroll from a bag at his side and handed it to his ancestor as they began to grow transparent. “Farewell. May the sun be at your back and your….” the image thinned and vanished before he could finish. Mordred got the gist of it.
He didn’t know that he had been floating a few feet above the ground until his armored booted feet hit the ground. He bent his legs enough to take the shock without falling over.
“You sorry sack of camel flop!! Where have you been?!” a familiar voice shouted over the crowd’s confusion. Eldren looked up at him, just as confused. His arms moved outward, but back at his sides again. He kept opening and closing his mouth forming invisible words. Mordred gave him a grin, bent down and shook hands.
“Was Warren a sorcerer as well as a Knight?” The Empress asked, standing behind him. There was a blackened spray on the ground behind Her. All that remained of the past-time visitors and the spirits that seemed prepared to re-start the war on Heaven’s Gate. “Oh, yes. It’s a pleasure to see you again, Mordred. Or…..Sir…Mordred?” She looked at him with questions on her fair face, hiding them with the Royal Demeanor Her Office usually demanded. She hid other thoughts, feelings as well. Such was a Royal Talent.
Mordred reached out one of his large, armored hands to Her and grinned broadly. “No. I’m not cursed with one of those titles. My Lady.” He squeezed, careful of his strength and armor. He nodded to the blackened ground, mouth opening to ask a question.
“They just went….poof….” Eldren motioned an explosion with his clawed hands.
“Like a war started and ended in mere minutes.” Empress Marlina added, looking at the bare spot. She spoke softly, but she was heard even with the confused and grumbling crowd that slowly exited the stands with no immediate amusements to keep them. “Where were you? Were you and Warren….”
“Yes, we talked. He told me a lot about what was going on, why I can do things, and some advice from older kin.” Mordred didn’t return the widened eyes and slacked jaws of his goblin friend and his Empress.
“He’s your….your….”
“Something way, way, way back, I guess.”
“I hope that this will not make things overly complicated now that you’re the heir to my..”
Mordred waved a large armored hand in Her direction. “No. Even if it can be proven by whatever means or he came back and told you himself, I don’t want that.” He nodded to the thin strip of gold with the sunburst at Her Forehead. “It’s too heavy for me.”
Empress Marlina stepped back, crossing Her Arms. “Impressive.” She said with a slight smile on her face. “Very well. No court gossip, no backstabbing politics. Just business as usual. I like it, I have to admit.”
“That’s something that Warren told me, more or less. Business as usual.”
Both Eldren and the Empress shrugged off whatever meaning Mordred tried to convey with that last remark.
“Could somebody help me get this suit off? The sun is out now and I’m starting to feel like a wrapped, roasted pheasant of some kind.”
Eldren began undoing the ties and clasps on his boots, and leggings since they were close to his height, while the Great Ruling Empress Marlina the First un-tied straps and snapped off clasps to his gloves, gauntlets, and chest plates. The two of them made quick work of the job as Mordred breathed deep of the dry air in the arena, absorbing the sunlight basting them all. He felt free. Most of Warrens’ memories remained, but many were leaving him know without his flaming sword at his side and his large body covered in metal plates from long ago, now stacked neatly to one side.
Mordred continued to stare at the silver-trimmed steel plates molded for a human warrior. Modes of protection laying dormant now useless without an owner.
“You’re his descendant. You have every right to..”
“No. Sorry to interrupt, your Majesty, but no. I’m not him.” Mordred continued to stare at the shining plates and mail, secretly hoping it would resurrect as his ancestor that shared his mind and body to tell him what to do now. “No such luck. Taking responsibility for my own life is enough of a Knightly duty to me.”
“Oh, quit talking in riddles. You’re a merchant and my helper.”
“No. No, I’m not that either, Eldren.” Mordred stood straight up, looking down at him. Not with disdain or hatred, but acknowledging his presence in his life for the past 10 years. No hero-worship, no fear in his speech.
The goblin stepped back, purple-irised eyes widened. “Yes. You’re right.” He nodded, looking Mordred up and down. “You’re not the kid that I rescued, made and lost gold on and with. You don’t need to depend on me anymore. I knew that this day would come but I hoped it wouldn’t.”
Both Mordred and the Empress exchanged shocked looks at Eldren’s expression of humility. The smart-mouthed greedy goblin just told his oldest and likely his only friend that he doesn’t need his company anymore.
“Eldren, how will you make your way….”
“Same way I have for the past century that I’ve been alive before I saved your big ass from those slavers. Exploiting somebody for profit and free help on the road.” With his usual smarmy grin, he held up the obsidian sword that had been at Mordred’s hip for many years since his freedom. “Since you won’t have me to save you from ghosts and beast horses, you may as well have a weapon to sort of defend yourself.”
Mordred took his familiar side arm slowly, gripping it tightly in Eldren’s clawed hand. The only thing from his past that meant anything to him now.
“Take that fancy pig poker, go back to your people, or go find the golden godling statue on Mount Hawksbill that’s supposed to grant wishes, or become a sell-sword. I’ve heard there’s good money in that.” He winked. “But sometime or another, go to some tavern and have a few ales, get into a brawl and win the attention of the barmaid. So on and so on. Name one of your brats after me.” He grinned and laughed loudly. “Or just go find some other poor, lowly, but honest merchant like me to exploit for free lodging and food. Just go do something, you big ox! But, please, please, PLEASE do not take some royal or noble title, settle down and get fat…ter…sitting on a throne, telling servants what to do and pretending you’ve actually earned a little strip of gold on your head! Go make your life something fun to remember as you turn ash gray and die.”
As Mordred gripped his weapon, he grasped Eldren’s hand that held it to him for a few moments, staring him down with no words in reply.
“Well? Get outta here, you useless big ox. I got customers to swindle.” He turned and left. Many things went through Mordred’s mind, phrases to shout, items to throw at him to say goodbye. He knew Eldren better than that.
After a long pause, Empress Marlina touched his shoulder to get the Denoan’s attention.“Will you take this armor with you? I do not know your destiny and from the sound of it, neither do you. Perhaps having some protection will be helpful?”
Mordred pulled his attention away from his departing friend, waving a hand at his Empress, the Ruler of this kingdom of The Land. “No, I can’t accept that. I’m no Knight of any kind. But set it up to display in your royal halls with something next to it that tells Warren’s story. I can fill you in all of the details before I leave.” He paused, cocking his head at an angle. “No, wait. If it’s alright with you. I’d like to keep the gauntlets. Something to remind me of….somebody.” He slipped on the steel and brass green and golden gloves and forearm plates, tying them on precisely. Memories came to him easily again. He slipped on the clip onto the belt around him, returning the obsidian sword to his side. He nodded and smiled broadly at his Ruler and they both started walking back to the Palace. The arena was needed for future bouts after all.
Time left the not-so-young Denoan and the no-longer-naive Empress experienced and more sure about their roles they fell into in This Land. Mordred accepted a post from the Empress to manage the public arena battles, even participating in them now and again to keep in practice. Royalty and the public both benefited from the gold and silver the bouts brought in. Mordred explored his abilities more and even taught others willing to learn from his “borrowed” knowledge. Changing into bear-form and hunting in the woods for his food took up the rest of his time. A way to stay in touch with his wilder side, his tribe.
Empress Marlina the First became widely known throughout the far reaches of the Land as an advocate of peace and advancement of the technology of the lost arts of magic. She dispatched soldiers and others to seek out artifacts, scrolls and even weapons that used or had once been used in great magical operations across the Land and more. She was mostly successful, but there was too much lost to rebuild the magical glory that was the Land’s heritage. However, the effort helped build up relations between the many kingdoms and empires through the areas, forming bonds and alliances, trade unions the likes of which have never been seen before.
Mordred, sun-baked even through his heavy leather armor, took three more swings at the great-horned ox as it swung his head around to gore him on the horns that were longer than he was tall. The bellowing from the wounded beast gave the gathered crowd one reason to cheer and shout for its demise. Other reasons was the barbaric spectacle, soon to be followed by its massive form roasting over a great fire in the town square. A feast to follow, feeding the hungry first, then the victorious slayer, then the citizens, then royalty. So sayeth the decree of Her Charitable Majesty, with Her watching from Her Private Booth, with the overhang keeping Her Pale Head out of the sun.
The beast was not only extremely powerful, but fast and not as stupid as most believed beasts of his size to be. He eluded even Mordred’s flaming obsidian sword and his bear-form for the most part. Gouges and wounds showed in its sides and head, but not enough to bring it down. Mordred hadn’t worked this hard in years. Panting, on one knee, armored glove on the ground, eyes fixed on his snorting adversary, he smiled with his split lip, bruised face and his own wounds. Yes, he was enjoying himself. Paperwork and decision making….Is. So. Boring. At last, the oxen saw an opening, thinking he was tiring out his human opponent and he charged, ready to impale the sometime human/sometime bear against the arena wall. Mordred braced himself, using the round white oak shield at his back. A gift from a noble family in the Roranian region, one of the more recent alliances because of Empress Marlina’s quest for magical items and knowledge. They were reputed to be indestructible. The scratches and gouges taken from it after impacts from those huge horns said otherwise. He held up that well-used shield one more time.
“That’s the only shield that you can think of to use?? You really are going to get yourself killed by stupidity, boy!!” came a familiar shout from the crowd. On impact from the great ox’s thick head against his shield, arms and braced stance, Mordred afforded himself a glance at a predictable blur of purple that disappeared into the crowd. He grinned and shifted his booted feet to get a sturdier position. He added his other gloved hand to the ox’s snout, pushing back in a two pronged attack.
The gathered and, by now, sated and full citizens and Empress danced to music from the Royal Ensemble slowly until digestion could complete. Her Highness stood by, watching the subjects shout and turn slowly, so there would be no embarrassing messes to clean up. Mordred patted his full lower torso and walked to his friend that he knew behind her disguise.
“Enjoyed the show?”
“I have to admit, I was getting concerned about you before you changed strategy. You seemed like you had some kind of…..outside guidance.”
“Guidance can be harsh, but well-meaning, Your Highness.”
“Yes. Yes, I know what you mean.” She nodded, the thin circlet barely showing under her maroon red hood.
“Couldn’t you just hide that somewhere while you’re trying to act all mysterious and fitting in?”
“Oh, stop griping. I’m actually starting to like it. The job as well as relying on myself for guidance to make decisions.” Her Eyes scanned the partying crowd, talking, slapping backs, walking with arms around shoulders, and some in corners and balconies stealing tokens of affection and some….more. “Have you considered my newest offer? It’s been months now. I had hoped to make it official by the Festival of Oeridia.”
Mordred’s head bowed. Not just from the fatigue of the battle and the full plate of oxen and roasted vegetables with the full mug of ale, but how to break this to Her. “I……I cannot accept, Your Majesty. I have considered this for some time now. I want to go on a journey. To find my fortune however and wherever it may end up being. To take Warrens’....and our mutual friends’ advice as well. I’m happy managing and fighting in the arena, but I know I need to leave for more. That might sound immature and silly, but..”
“Stop. Stop right there. Don’t do that. Just consider this your going-away celebration.”
She wrapped Her Slender Arms around his wide frame and he hugged Her back. She clung to him a little longer than expected, but he had suspicions. Ever since Warren left, she wondered what life would have been like married to a Knight and he knew She had been watching him when he had fought beasts and challengers in the arena. Closely. He stopped, pulled Her back. “Thank you, your Majesty.” He bowed deeply, to one knee. Not the normal greeting of Her Majesty. A custom that hadn’t been practiced in many, many generations. One, that very few living mortals were aware of.
“My most Royal Gratitude and Respect go to you……Sir Mordred of the Tribe of Denoan!” Before he knew his obsidian sword was pulled out from his scabbard, She touched the stone blade to one side of his broad shoulders and another. This all transpired in the alley where he saw her attempting to hide. There was enough noise from the crowd to muffle the sound of an impromptu Knighting. His and Her first. “How did I do?”
“That was great. His wide grin was showing his reddening cheeks as he once again, took his long-time companion from a trusted friend.
She took a breath to start to say something else, but thought better of it.
“So what do I do as a Knight? Slay dragons?”
“Good luck finding one. No, just do noble things when you can remember. If you decide to come back, there’s land and an office here at the Palace for you.”
“Thank you. I might consider that when I’m too old to get into any more heaven-shaking adventures.”
They both heard a woman screaming in the crowd just then. Another show of the revelry going on outside of this little bubble they were in.
Empress Marlina turned to look up at Mordred to finish a thought and found an empty space, bricks laid out perfectly and in line. A product of a proud dwarf’s smallish hands. She looked around, head turning around sharply, even looking for boot prints, the sound of steps running. Nothing. Not a sight nor a sound.
It’s for the best, She thought as She passed by a table with leftover oxen meats and took two hunks of bread and made Her usual sandwich to eat on Her way back to the Palace. “It’s for the best, She said between greasy bites.