~-*Chapter II: The Story Finally Told*-~
“Ouch! Take it easy on me, tha’ hurts!”
“You’ll only get in more pain if you keep fussing, now hold still!”
“Aargh, feels like a hunderd mini critters chewin’ on my neck.”
That’s because there are.”
Master Tristain was nursing Kael’Thas’s neck wound inside the bowels of Fort Argon, while the children were busy taking a bath to prepare for their parents’ visit. The two were inside the main centre, which was a high, exposed room with several openings leading to other areas of the fort. A gargantuan wooden table, complete with simple chairs and a clothed throne to head them all, occupied the middle, taking up a large amount of space. The walls radiated in a mixture of pulsing sepia from the array of charred torches lining up the corners, creating a rather comforting ambience throughout the fort. An impressive glass chandelier hung unused on the ceiling, glimmering from the torchlight. A roughly-hewn stone staircase covered by a garnished red carpet scaled up the wall and branched off in a T shape that then led to the rooms on the second floor. A collection of steam peeked out two of these rooms in which the children occupied. Above the pathway were glorious paintings of what looked to be important figures; one of a silver-haired bard in blue-steel armor and holding a priceless wooden instrument; the middle painting portrayed a graying man in burdening heavy armor, either painted or plated in gold, wearing a modest smile and bearing an important artifact: a celebratory shield bearing four symbols on each quadrant; the third member on the right was of a plump king bestowed with a jeweled silver circlet, a diamond breastplate, and a violet mantle. On either side, a deep crimson-and-silver flag to which Fort Argon pledges allegiance was draped over the wall. The flag’s emblem of a sword piercing the clouds shown out amongst the pulsing glow of the nearby torches.
Kael’Thas was lying on the table, stomach-side down and facing away from Master Tristain and displaying some discomfort with grunts and squirming. He was generously applying an odd-textured, grainy-red liquid that, when viewed very closely, revealed hundreds of tailed, legless creatures fixated on the wound which were nearly undetectable by an eye alone. Master Tristain put a rubber cork inside his vial in which Kael’Thas promptly sat up and rubbed his neck. The deep, toothy gas that was once there was now replaced with reddening that could easily be mistaken for a rash.
“Good thing tha’s over,” Kael’Thas declared, relieved. “Never liked those things, feelin’ yer neck bein’ nibbled on by a bunch o’ critters.”
“Just be glad your gash is healed,” assured Master Tristain. “Bandages would have been a much slower alternative.” He turned his head to the rooms where the children were still inside, then back to his patient. “By the way,” he wondered. “You rushed up to ask me something, then the children followed you and we had that little accident. What did you come to me for again?”
“Oh, righ’,” Kael’Thas remembered, scratching his beard, “th’ little ones wanned ya t’ tell em another story.”
“Really? We had a small adventure just for this? And I already gave them one before I left.”
“They thought th’ firs’ one was too short, they’re pretty stingy lads.”
“Well, alright. Might as well spend the time waiting for them to get cleaned thinking of a better story for them.” the old man began pacing across the large gathering table while Kael’Thas groped his rashy wound, grimacing. The steam outlining the two adjacent rooms stopped collecting, meaning the children were finished with their bath. He began pacing faster.
“Mmm, what about the one where I tell them how the undead came to be?” He turned to face the irritated dwarf, who was reaching for his left side be recoiled at the last second.
“Oh, err I think yeh already told em’ tha‘ b’fore yeh left.”
“Oh, right, right...do you think they will enjoy The Keeper of Above?”
“Too complicated, don’t think they’ll understannit.”
“When the world Was One?”
“His’ry lessons are boring.”
“The Convergent Arachnid?”
“Woah, too gory.”
The storyteller was finally stumped. “Oh dear, could I have run out of legends and lore to tell the young ones? They are capable of being patient, but there is no telling when their parents are going to arrive.”
Kael’Thas, who was still rummaging around for something, opened up buttoned pockets attached to his tasset. “Why don’t yeh make summin up fer ‘em?”
He responded by turning aghast. “I can’t just make up a story on the spot like that! And besides, I’d rather get them engrossed in the fascinating sides of reality so they will learn to appreciate it later. This may be the first time I’d have to create one, however. What should I create?”
“Oh, I dunno, do summin like uh--oh, here it is, finally I can get a drink. Commere, yeh beauty.” The dwarf ended his search; he pulled his hand out and revealed a sparkling, diamond-studded flask with the indents of a group of armored dwarves in a struggle all holding the cork. He opened his mouth wide after removing the cork, but before a single brass-colored drop hit his tongue, the flask vanished from his grasp. He issued a “wha’ the...” before focusing on Master Tristain, who was grasping the flask’s leather strap with a resentful glare.
“Drinking when you are supposed to be on duty watching the children? You can be detained for that! And what will the children say when their main hero is punished for disorderly conduct?” he twirled the leather strap before tossing the flask back to its owner, who bent his head in gloom. “You can drink later when we are traveling back to Whisperwind, but right now, you need to focus. Remember, we are still in a war; anything and everything can happen in infinitesimal moments.”
“Tha’s right!” Kael’Thas realized. “We’ve been in our own little spot fer so long tha’ I fergot we’re in the las’ moments.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Master Tristain retorted, “We still have a lot of work to do. But yes, you are correct, we just have to push a little more and we can all worry about something other than our families.” He had a reserved expression on his face and obtained a chair. “To think I was a young man when the war was still in progression. Nearly all the masterminds have passed on and we are still fighting out of spite and bias.”
“Yeh must’ve a lotta mem’ries from tha’, doncheh?” Kael’Thas added in reminiscence. I wouldn’t know meself since I jus’ started a couple years ago, bu’ it feels like th’ war has been my life. I was born innit.”
“Fourty-nine long, torn years,” Master Tristain breathed. “Maybe I will live to see its end.”
The dreadful melancholy was drowned out by spirit and anxiety. The two bathroom doors burst open, revealing the five children who were under the protection of the sage and dwarf. Steam poured out the crevices while collective breathing echoed throughout the hall. First arriving were Daniel and Danielle, who entered from the left and right rooms. His hair was now in a raised-front style while his sister lost her pigtails and instead brushed her hair to a length that covered her neck. Instead of taking the time to walk down the staircase, the twins climbed down the balcony, which made Kael’Thas and Master Tristain alert.
“Hey!” Shouted Kael’Thas, “Yeh can’t just jump offa there, yeh might hurt yerself!”
“Aww, relax Frank, we’re fine!” assured Daniel with a wide grin. “See? Look! No bruises!”
“Yeah, we’re not hurt!” accompanied Danielle, despite nearly stumbling over trying to mimic her brother.
Kashan, Elane, and Kahna were last to leave their rooms. His hair was unkempt and collected in a frizz, but did not seem to worry about his appearance. Elane made sure to keep her hair shiny; she ran down the staircase with her hair flowing around her body. Kahna wobbled to the edge of the balcony, looking down to see if her brother was already in the party, but turned around to face him when his hand touched her shoulder. “Thanks for taking care of Kahna for me, Elane and Danielle!” Called Kashan, who was answered back with waves from the two. They then walked together to meet with the group downstairs.
“Alright gramps, spill it!” declared Daniel.
“S-Spill what?” He asked bewildered.
“We know you’ve been cooking up a nice story for us, so here we are waiting!”
“But if you’re tired or don’t have a story ready, that’s okay, we can wait until later,” Kashan added politely.
Master Tristain peered at Kashan in resentment of his use of the word ‘tired’, but collected his senses and addressed the group. “No, no, that’s alright children.” He reassured them, looking down at his feet. “I think I came up with a pretty good one...” He took a glance around the array of torches before continuing “Let us have a seat!”
Master Tristain motioned for the head chair in the table--the clothed throne--while the chidlren clambered to the nearest seat. Kashan and Kahna took the left side’s two tables, while Daniel and Danielle took the right. Elane sat between Kahna and Kael’Thas, who was forced to crouch down on his knees from his size.
“Before telling a story,” the old storyteller began, “I find it best to create the right atmosphere.” He threw his arms high and began to close his eyes and breathe. The inhabitants felt the air thicken and tingle with energy as the arms slowly creeped lower. When this happened, the light pulsating from the torches dimmed. The arms moved ever lower as the main room of Fort Argon slipped into darkness. The children became ecstatic from the tension and suspense, barely able to contain their excitement. This was especially true for Kahna, who began to fuss over the wonders of Master Tristain, which behooved Kashan to tell his little sister to stop making noise. Kael’Thas scoffed in the back of the audience, muttering “Pfft, tha’s not so special...”
The torches were all extinguished, projecting not so much as a puff of smoke. Master Tristain resumed his normal position, looking around his audience. “Now for some light of my own”. He barely finished speaking before emitting an echoing clap from his hands, flinching the children and causing Kael’Thas to make a sudden ‘yip!’ from surprise. Master Tristain’s body flickered for but an instant, while his arms produced sparks. Out from within his hands expelled a glowing, gold orb of light, sparkling with whizzing thin streams of particles encircling the sphere. The children all gasped and yelled “Woah!” in amazement at the sight of producing light from onesself, but Kael’Thas remained transfixed. He didn’t utter a single word, but his shocked expression removed all means of talking. “B-but mine took twenny seconds t’ make summin so crude, “the jealous dwarf thought, “but he did it like it was nuthin’! An’ it looks so much nicer too...”
Master Tristain set his ball of light next to him to allow it to illuminate the table while the rest of Fort Argon remained pitch black. He then addressed his audience with his face partially lit “How about this time I spin a tale about Blademistress Rhia?” The children’s breathing was now steady and ready to take in imagination.
“Blademistress Rhia, eh?” Kael’Thas continued to think, “I see what yer tryin’ t’ do, Master Tristain.”
The storyteller began. “Her tale starts a little over a hundred years ago. Rhia started off just as hopeful, inexperienced, arrogant, and spirited as the rest of any young one in what is now Pårelos Academy. If you young fellows still wish it, you could enter there too. She was trained in classes, she completed her apprenticeship, and she finally graduated and ready to be placed among other graduates. This would be the story for any average student, but Rhia was different. She was placed two years ahead of her peers and graduated at the top of her class. She had a certain flair for her skills. While she trained alongside her classmates, she excelled over all others, defeating them with little effort at all. This undoubtedly brought the attention of the instructors and commanders of Pårelos Academy. They reviewed her specializations and concluded she was exceptionally gifted. There was nothing wrong with her, she wasn’t being controlled by a formidable enemy, she didn’t have any neural mutation that heightened her senses; she was just...exceptional. Rhia was thus taken into the care of the most elite of soldiers handpicked by the Impånväkt to further enhance her training. After extensive sparring and months upon months of growing, Rhia finally bested her masters and was then offered a place by their side as equals.”
“Wow, she must have been amazing!” exclaimed Elane. “What was she?”
“She signed up as the most basic classes of swordswomen,” replied Master Tristain, “but progressed quickly into the elite classes, which is why they call her Blademistress Rhia.”
“I definitely want to be like her when I get there!” Elane wished.
“Having a dream is good, but you don’t want to progress so hastily like her. You’ll need all the time experience you can get.”
But then his face turned to disappointment. “However, there came a time when Blademistress Rhia grew even more arrogant. Her constant growth of ability made her fearless and was irrational when it came to danger. It was all too predictable, then, when a particular assignment came for her, she abandoned her team to claim the rewards for herself instead of having her team to support her.”
“Whaat!?” Exclaimed Daniel, “what a jekr! I wouldn’t just take the reward for myself, how can she think like this?”
“That was only her mindset,” answered Master Tristain. “She was so confident in her abilities that she believed she could handle it on her own. Perhaps she only wanted to spare her team injury and death.” Seeing Elane nod in understanding, he continued, his voice with a hint of dread, “But she should have brought more than her team that night. The assignment they took was the execution of a fearsome...thing...whose real name holds little value today.”
“Y-you don’t know what the monster is?” asked Kashan, spooked from the lack of detail about the ‘fearsome thing’.
“That’s the problem isn’t it?” Master Tristain surmised. “It’s been so long that no one knows. Of course this means each story confers a different image of this ‘monster’.”
“So if we don’t know what it looks like,” Kael’Thas questioned, “then what do yeh know ‘bout th’ monster?” He was answered almost immediately. “This monster is both a magician and a master of psychology; it feeds upon the fears and misconceptions of those who face it and creates illusions to further mask its identity.”
“Disconte...mistondep...”
“Where you think something about a person or thing but it’s not really true, Daniel. Anyway, it would have served Blademistress Rhia well if she knew what she was up against. Maybe then she would have allowed her team to be with her.”
“What happened to her?” Elane asked reluctantly.
“In the end, she did face the monster, but she never returned. Not a trace of her appeared after the encounter, nor was she heard from again.”
“But that’s crazy!” Daniel blurted, “no one else saw her, not even once?”
“Such is the power of this terrible beast,” Master Tristain said in conclusion, “Its power so immense, it wipes all intruders clean. It’s why little to no one else dares to confront it; it would be like asking for your life to be over. Most believe this monster is a devious witch who transformed Blademistress Rhia into a shade of herself, in order to force her to overcome her arrogance. It explains why the only times the monster attacks are when trespassers invade its territory.”
Master Tristain threw his hands together into a great clap, relighting the torches and thrusting Kashan and the others from their dream-like state of imagination. Smirking, he concluded “But then again, it’s only a story, and a good one at that!”
The children groaned in disappointment. “Aww come on Master Tristain,” whined Kashan, “isn’t there more to it than that?”
“Yeah, and there wasn’t much to the storytelling part either!” added Daniel.
“Not much storytelling!?” shouted Master Tristain in shock, “that was the best improvised story I’ve ever made!”
“What about the part where she actually fights the monster?” inquires Elane.
“I can’t believe her own friends wouldn’t help her in her time of need!” frowned Danielle.
“I found tha’ th’ endin’ wunt much of...an endin’!” chimed in Kael’Thas.
“More story!” squealed Kahna.
“You youngin’s are all critics!” huffed the old man in disgust, folding his arms and sulking.
The heated commotion and upheaval was interrupted by a gradual clip-clopping of hooves and raised chattering. Outside the fort, something heavy grinding the earth came to a halt while the cries of mighty hooved animals, hästar, squeezed through the closed gate. A ruckus outside prompted a “easy, easy! Control the wagon!” request from rough, tired-sounding man. Sounds of footsteps inched closer.
“I bet I already know who it is, bu’ lemme check jus’ in case,” spoke Kael’Thas. He rose from his seat and left the hall, grinding an iron crank in the atrium to release the gate. The children looked at each other in curiosity, then to Master Tristain who had a blank expression on his face.
“Is that my daddy?” Asked Kashan, leaving his chair.
“We’ll let Frank go and see, let’s stay put for a bit”, forbade Master Tristain.
“It’s awright guys, th’ wagon is here!” called Kael’Thas, motioning from within a bare crevice of the gate.
“Wagon?” Kashan asked again.
“Yes, the wagon,” answered the sage. “Looks like your daddy is here, and on time it seems!”
“Alright!” he rushed down the hall, calling for his missed father.
“Daddy!” Yelled Kahna in excitement. She tried to run after her brother, but was picked up by Master Tristain. “It’ll be faster if I carry you, let’s go!”
The land around Fort Argon reached a honey, golden tint as the sun was beginning to set over the horizon; rescuing Elane and being immersed in a story took time away from the group as hours passed by. Outside were two wagons manned by several mighty-looking hästar, furry, hooved quadrupedals with large snouts and magnificent manes trailing down the head to the spine. Their large, beady eyes focused on the small strangers, but did not wish to attempt to come closer and rather welcomed the short break from traveling. The bowl-shaped roofs of cloth that covered the wagons were disturbed when several armored men clambered out the openings, ready to make the group’s acquaintance.
